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Thread: Chapter 1:Haunting Of Harrowstone

  1. #1

    Default Chapter 1:Haunting Of Harrowstone


    Each of you have received word of Professor Lorrimor's death. The letter which brought the sad news was from his daughter, Kendra, requesting you to attend his burial which is to be on the 16th of Lamashan in a town called Ravengro.

    You know that the professor kept a house there for some fifteen years, which he would retire to from time to time when he wished to study without the distractions of the city. He used to say that it was close enough to the University that he could have books sent to him without too much difficulty but isolated enough that no one from the University would seek him out. You are aware that he left Lepidstadt for Ravengro about three months ago but any communication since then has been mostly one-sided.

    During his long career, Petros Lorrimor was many things to many people; a famed scholar, tutor, traveler, researcher, author, wizard and -according to his detractors- an incorrigible meddler. To you he was either an inspiration, employer, hero, colleague, mentor or father-figure, but to all of you he was a dear friend. So, it is with heavy hearts that you settle your affairs in order to go pay your respects.

    16th Lamashan 4707AR(mid-late autumn)

    The day dawns grey and still, and the chill nip of winter's first teeth pinches your skin as you hurry to complete the last leg of your journey.

    To those coming from the east: Ruthis, Matthias and Leda

    Your road takes you through the rolling hills east of the town, whose elevations afford you a good view of the layout of the area.

    The town of Ravengro is built around the Redwool River. The central part is a cluster of buildings on the east bank, while spreading over the plains to the east, north and west, scattered homesteads lie dotted among small fields of orange barley and bare brown plots awaiting the planting of the winter rye. About a mile to the south, on a hill looming over the town there is a partially-ruined stone compound. You estimate the town consists of about sixty households. From your vantage point you easily find the cemetery on the north side of the town and resume your descent down the hill.

    As you near the town, you begin to notice the signs of a town in the early stages of prosperity. The main street is paved, with drainage channels dug on both sides. Many of the buildings have slate tiles instead of wooden shingles. You also see some well built stone houses and across the river where a few two-story houses have even been put up, the spire of a particularly large stone chapel decorates the skyline.

    You follow the instructions in your invitation and turn your steps in the direction of the cemetery.

    To those coming from the north: Qui, Ken, and Mikial

    Your journey takes you along the banks of the Redwool River for some miles. The miserable cart track that you follow, strays from time to time, close enough to the bank for you to observe the phenomenon that is the Redwool River. In the shallows along the river grows the redwool flax from which the river takes both its name and colour. The red fibres from decayed stalks are swept up by the current into wet tangled clumps that vaguely resemble clots of bloodsoaked wool. The colour leeches into the water, staining the banks a murky red before it dilutes into the rushing current.

    About midday, you get your first sight of the town on the horizon. Your first impression is that of a cosy collection of quaint buildings under the watchful protection of a grey stone church steeple rising over the town.

    As you approach the town, the wild plains give way to small fields of barley, shielded by the occasional stand of fruit trees scantily clothed in leaves of fading greens, yellows and pinks. Families are out in the fields, men mowing down the barley with great scythes and their women and children gathering after them. No hand is lifted in friendly greeting as you pass, no voice is raised to wish you well. All stop and stare at you openly and only resume their work when you are well past.

    Before you reach the central hub of the town, you come across the parcel of ground that has been walled off for a cemetery. You follow the mid-height wall around the cemetery till you find the main entrance on the near side of the town.

    The Restlands

    The Restlands is an area of about one and a half acres of land where the town buries their dead. It lies on the left-hand side of the north road and is surrounded by a medium height stone wall.

    You are standing in front of the main entrance, facing north. On the right side of the entrance are about half a dozen people dressed in somber clothing, huddled together discoursing in low tones. To the left of the entrance stands a low four-wheeled cart bearing a coffin.

    Standing alone in the entrance to the Restlands is a neat, modestly dressed woman in her mid-twenties fussing nervously with a book in her hands. Even if you had not seen the likeness of Kendra Lorrimor that the Professor always carried with him, you would know that this is her by her red dress which is customary for the nearest of kin at funerals in Canterwall. At your approach, she looks up expectantly and you see that her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed.

    Kendra Lorrimor

  2. #2


    "I can't-I... I sh-houldn't of come. I..." The wizard muttered into his chest his head down and eyes searching frantically about for some escape. Instinctively one foot stepped back to turn tail but some unseen force anchored it to the ground. He had managed to make it all the way here without noticing the gaze of others on him, his mind racked with mournful sorrow and little else. It wasn't until the shock of Kendra in his line of sight that he was even able to consider one steeped in even more grief than his own.

    Stupid, what was he doing? Yes of course professor Lorrimor was a great man, a true inspiration Ken looked up up to. He was also one of the first and few people to look beyond the scales and horns and treat the Tiefling as a fellow with respect and friendship and no doubt his daughter as well but the other's...

    Ken caught himself staring at the mourners gathered a little too long and quickly averted its gaze turning about face toward the way he came. He'd only cause them even more heartbreak with his presence. He couldn't do that to them, not now, a letter of condolences and a secret visit. This was ok. Once he unlocked the secrets of time he'd redo this right so he could run away now and next time repay the professors kindness and friendship...

    The shoulders on that small cloaked back slump low, the moment just before they seemed as if they were geared to take off but now? "I-" the meek voice trembled but at least it was audible this time, if only barely over the sniffling that had begun. "I'm... I'm so sorry!"

    One could be forgiven for being unnerved, the voice didn't help. Deep and otherworldly wailing from the short, rotund devil like creature whom rushed toward the daughter of the deceased with arms wide and eyes full of tears. But please forgive him, this was his first funeral, his first death of a close friend, his first time dealing with this type of grief outside the pages of some book.

  3. #3


    The expectation fading into disappointment, the the widening eyes, the involuntary step backwards and the strangled squeak -they are all reactions you have come to expect. But the reaction you did not expect was your own and you don't know how to handle it as you sob against her hip.

    Ten seconds pass.

    Twenty seconds.

    The awkwardness of the situation begins to dawn on you. The murmur of voices has gone silent. You just know everyone is staring at you. But how to extricate yourself from this situation, you don't know. Perhaps wait till she shoves you off and use that as an excuse to get away? Far away. Forever.

    A soft hand touches your upper arm. Her voice is surprised but unexpectedly sympathetic and you can tell from its nearness that she has stooped to address you.

    “You- you knew Father? How?”

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Oct 2017
    Montana, USA

    Default Chapter 1:Haunting Of Harrowstone

    Mikial exits the coach and makes his way toward the gathering of mourners. Having to stop momentarily as Ken freezes in front of him. He is obviously concerned about the others staring at him. The same thing happened when he first arrived at the University. But Mikial saw past that and befriended the tiefling despite what the others thought. The two of them constantly debated the Arcane and how it could be used. The Alchemist thought the mage made for thinking that he could eventually control time. Time is constant, time is finite, one can’t possibly control something as inevitable as time. But disputed all their differences their friendship grew close as brothers. Mikial never had a brother, only a younger sister. The two of them constantly egged each other on, but in the end always sat at the same table together at the end of the day.

    That is up until recently. Mikial’s research had kept him away from the needed company of his friends. He worried that they would believe him mad and have him expelled from the school. But now he is with them and he needed to make up for his lost time.

    “It’s alright. You’re not alone Ken.” A firm assuring hand gripped the tieflings shoulder to remind him that he’s not alone and encourage him to move forward.

    Mikial politely waits for his friend to mourn and offer his sympathies. Once he is recognized, he steps toward Kendra whom he nearly recognizes. She has grown up so much from that budding young teenage girl since the last time he visited the professor nearly a decade ago. She has grown into such beautiful woman. He is upset to have not have visited sooner, but he knows full well he could have put her in danger then. He had always admired her spirit, it was what initially attracted him to her in the first place, but she was just a girl then.

    Mikial gives a slow and somber bow and offers his condolences. “Kendra, my greatest of sympathies for the loss of your father. He was a brilliant man and a great mentor to me. I am so sorry that we had to meet again in these circumstances.” He extends a hand with a discreet small pouch filled with 5 gold coins. “Please accept this as a donation to assist with the affairs. And Kendra if there is anything that I can do to help please don’t hesitate to ask.”

    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
    Last edited by MTpaladin; 04-08-2019 at 12:35 PM.

  5. #5


    In preparing for the journey to the funeral of his dear friend, Ruthis took his usual precaution of covering his long elf-ears with a thick dark hood.Although not a fool-proof disguise, he's confident it combined with his broad-brimmed hat would ward off most disapproving eyes from the locals, after all, why disturb them from their business to stare at some stranger they'll see for a day or two and never again?

    In his visits to the professor, Ruthis had only seen his daughter once or twice and if it wasn't painfully obvious, he would've walked right past without even noticing her.As it was he did notice her, and coming closer, politely tipped hat.' A friend and student of your father's, Ruthis at your service.' He introduced himself,'Your father was a noble and good man and I will never forget him. If there's anything i can do, as a friend, please, just mention it.'

  6. Default

    Leda glances around soberly, noting there is more people here at the Professor's funeral then any other funeral she has been too.Jerking herself from her thoughts back to the present.Leda walks softly up to Kendra, embracing her in a sympathetic hug,whispering in a comforting voice "I'm sorry for your loss Kendra your father was a great man and loved by many, he will be very sorely missed."

  7. #7


    Ken's head lifted startled by not just the nearest of the voice but the the gentleness in it. Half expectant something... Less. He had no idea why, and immediately felt remiss for such disparaging thoughts. He looked down again, a mix of embarrassed and regretful, but not for long.

    Lorrimor may had been the first, but he wasn't the last, a resolute nod to his friend's encouragement. He had already made sure of that by giving Ken his chance. "He saved me."

    A beaming smile despite the teary eyes, said it may very well had been hyperbolic but you couldn't tell him any difference. As far as Ken was concerned the professor could had very well pulled him from a burning barn with just his one letter. "I'm sorry," he wiped a tear away as tried to compose himself.

  8. #8



    Kendra nods sincerely. “Father saved many people. But so few have come.” She squeezes your arm. “Thank you for remembering.”


    Kendra bends slightly at the knees in return to your greeting. “Welcome, Master Ruthis. Thank you.”


    Kendra bows deeply to match your own so as not to appear to presume a higher status. You see her discreetly looking you up and down as if searching for something familiar without wishing to offer offense by showing she doesn't recognise you. When her eye falls on your ring, her face lights up with pleasure. “Oh, Master Hydelberg! I My father loved you, he always spoke very highly of you. Welcome. Do you teach at the University too?”

    She seems surprised at the pouch you leave in her hands but seeing you didn't want to make a show about it, she tucks it into her sleeve mouthing a quiet 'thank you'.

  9. #9


    Qui stepped forward with her companions, with seemingly more automatic then conscious effort. While others moved to offer their varied condolences, she remained aloof, for with what words could one even begin to try and ease such an ache? and to someone they've never personally met?
    Fingers roved through the many pouches hanging off her belt as she listened absently to the murmured sympathy and gossip alike that floated to her ears before lighting on a certain hard object.
    'Yes, maybe a token, relic, something meaningful to him...' The scout slipped past Kendra's side, using the momentary distractions of conversation to secrete a small and knobbly but neatly wrapped object to the lady's side-pocket before slowly shuffling toward the nearby coffin, as if a last look on the face of one she had grown to appreciate as more then just a bothersome teacher might give her words fitting for such a farewell.

  10. #10
    Join Date
    Oct 2017
    Montana, USA

    Default Chapter 1:Haunting Of Harrowstone

    “It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t remember me all that well. It has been sometime since I last visited when I first entered your father’s tutelage. You were about 15, I think. You have grown into a beautiful woman Kendra.” The opportunity to reminisce was nice for the two of them to remember the professor rather than to mourn. “I do lecture from time to time on the topic of alchemy at the University. I learned from the best. I am not sure if I could ever be as good as your father was.”

    Knowing full well that now is not the time nor the place to ask such questions, Mikial looked for a ring on her left hand. He could not let another decade go by for a chance to get to know the woman that has fascinated his mind since that day when they first met. “I would like to stay a while longer if I could, and if you wouldn’t mind visit your father‘s laboratory?“

    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

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