Inspectre
 Link to the OOC Thread
 
 Music! 

It began with the arrival of the letter.  Over the years you had received occasional letters from your old friend Petros Lorrimor, and so its arrival was not particularly alarming.  Likewise, its contents seemed innocuous enough at first glance, banal even.

 
 Spoiler: The Letter 

Hello Old Friend,

I realized the other day that it has been some time since last we spoke.  You need not worry, for I am in good health.  The quiet air of Ravengro has been a great help to my nerves after a life of adventure.  Danger may be a flavorful spice to add to one’s life, but an exhausting one as well.  I imagine tis strange to hear such a sentiment come from me, given the circumstances in which we met.  Nonetheless, these old bones of mine have found that peace quite appeals to them.

The people of Ravengro are an insular lot, it must be said.  But though they are slow to trust, I have gradually earned their respect.  No doubt my time as a professor in Lepidstadt winning over recalcitrant students has been of aid there.  One other thing that I have found helpful is an attentive ear, as everyone carries their share of problems, even if they are too proud to ask for aid.

If you should decide to come pay your old professor a visit, I would caution you to beware the rainy season.  Ravengro has quite the stirge population in the surrounding moors, and paradoxically the little blighters are most active then.  I would hate for your first experience in town to be hearing the whispering from the townsfolk over your pockmarked face!  Nonetheless, I am sure you will find a way to impress them even if such should come to pass.

I hope you will forgive the ramblings of an old man, but I will not keep your eyes glued to their letter any further.

May Pharasma’s waters guide thee,

Professor Petros Lorrimor
7th of Rova (September), 4722 AR
 


There it was, at the very end of the letter in the farewell – “May Pharasma’s waters guide thee”.  Petros had always told you that was an old catchphrase, a challenge and response system set up centuries ago during the darkest moments of Ustalav’s history.  “May Pharasma’s waters guide thee” was the challenge, and then the response was some phrase agreed upon ahead of time that could be changed as necessary – “May Pharasma’s waters guide thee, and protect thee from harm”, “May Pharasma’s waters guide thee, and lead thee to Her Throne”, and so on.  Its relevance here was that Professor Lorrimor had always told you that when he used that challenge phrase in one of his letters, it would mean that a secret was encoded within.  Sure enough, holding the letter up to a candleflame close enough to singe, but not burn, the paper was enough to activate the invisible ink, underlining several words to reveal the true message.

 
 Spoiler: The True Letter 

Hello Old Friend,

 I  realized the other day that it has been some time since last we spoke.  You  need  not worry, for I am in good health.  The quiet air of Ravengro has been a great  help  to my nerves after a life of adventure .  Danger  may be a flavorful spice to add to one’s life, but an exhausting one as well .   I imagine tis strange to hear such a sentiment  come  from me, given the circumstances in which we met.  Nonetheless, these old bones of mine have found that peace quite appeals  to  them.

The people of  Ravengro  are an insular lot, it must be said .   But though they are slow to  trust , I have gradually earned their respect.   No  doubt my time as a professor in Lepidstadt winning over recalcitrant students has been of aid there.   One  other thing that I have found helpful is an attentive ear, as everyone carries their share of problems, even if they are too proud to ask for aid . 

If you should decide to come pay your old professor a visit, I would caution you to  beware  the rainy season.  Ravengro has quite  the  stirge population in the surrounding moors, and paradoxically the little blighters are most active then.  I would hate for your first experience in town to be hearing the  whispering  from the townsfolk over your pockmarked face!  Nonetheless, I am sure you will find a  way  to impress them even if such should come to pass . 

I hope you will forgive the ramblings of an old man, but I will not keep your eyes glued to their letter any further.

May Pharasma’s waters guide thee,

Professor Petros Lorrimor
20th of Arodus (August), 4722 AR

Which could be transcribed to:

I NEED HELP. DANGER. COME TO RAVENGRO. TRUST NO ONE. BEWARE THE WHISPERING WAY.
 


For those of you more learned in the history of Ustalav’s various towns and factions, you consult your own resources of knowledge before setting out to answer the professor’s disguised plea for aid.

 
 Spoiler: Ravengro, Knowledge Local or History DC 15 

The town of Ravengro, originally known as Raven’s Grotto, was founded in 4594 to support and supply the newly established Harrowstone Prison nearby.  After the prison was closed down in 4661, the town lingered on but largely went ignored by the County of Tamrivena.  A few attempts were made to revitalize the town by transforming it into a lumber or farming community, but all such efforts failed in rather short order.  Today the town of Ravengro is an isolated, sleepy hamlet of no importance whatsoever.
 

 
 Spoiler: The Whispering Way, Knowledge Religion or Arcana DC 15 

A secret cabal of sinister necromancers and undead sympathizers, the Whispering Way are best known in Ustalav as servants of Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, so-named in part because of his own association with this order.  While there are any number of secretive fellowships with varying legal standing within Ustalav, the Whispering Way is the only one whose membership has been officially declared illegal by the government in Caliphas, with punishments ranging from life imprisonment to execution by slow torture.  Despite the official government stance that this has led to the organization being virtually stamped out within civilized areas of Ustalav, rumors of the Way’s continued existence abound, alongside rumors that the most notorious members of the organization continue to operate unimpeded in the regions of Ustalav outside the government’s firm control - which it must be said, is the larger portion of the country.
 


It has taken the professor’s letter several weeks to reach you from the date it was written, and several more for you to conclude your own business and set out to the town of Ravengro.  The roads, as always in Ustalav but especially for an isolated town like Ravengro, are dangerous for an armed group but nigh suicidal for a lone traveler.  As such you have had to arrange passage with a small caravan of merchants and fellow travelers leaving the county seat of Tamrivena to reach Ravengro at all, let alone in time to come to the Professor’s aid.  Today is the first of Lamashan (October), and with any luck at all this will be your final day on the road before arriving in Ravengro at mid-morning.  A little over a month since the professor sent out his desperate letter to you – it would have to be soon enough.

This is shortly after the start of your fifth day on the road from Tamrivena.  While the weather has thankfully remained dry for the duration of your trip, the chill after the sun goes down certainly heralds the approach of winter.  Furthermore, the dark clouds starting to gather overhead suggest that if you do not arrive in Ravengro soon, you may have a cold autumn rain to endure as well.

Fortunately, that defaced signpost you had passed a few minutes ago reported that Ravengro was only half a mile ahead, and so you should only be minutes away from arriving, even at the slow pace the caravan has been traveling to accommodate the slower draft animals.  Aside from the guards and travelers tromping along on foot, the caravan currently consists of, from front to the back of it stretched out along the narrow, uneven hardpacked dirt road:
 
 A traveler’s carriage bearing a Ravengro-local merchant, Luramin Taigh, returning from Tamrivena on business.  He has offered anyone traveling a seat within the carriage . . . for the extortionist fee of 2 gold pieces. 
 A wagon bearing the proceeds of Luramin’s business within Tamrivena, largely various odds and ends of gear and tools.  With the two hired guards riding up front and a third hanging off the back of the wagon, there is no room for a comfortable seat but the guards have grudgingly offered a spot in the wagon amidst the piles of supplies, in exchange for a promise not to steal anything and not to tell Luramin that they allowed you to ride in “his” wagon. 
 A magical carriage drawn by phantom steeds summoned by a middle-aged professor who apparently has traveled all the way from Lepidstadt.  The professor has largely kept to himself (and been largely shunned by the others in the caravan for his flagrant display of magic), but has introduced himself as Professor Adivon Adrissant in one of the few conversations you’ve had with him.  To anyone who has made an effort to speak with him over the course of the journey (requiring a DC 10 Diplomacy check), he has offered a seat within his magical carriage, free of charge. 
 A Varisian traveler’s wagon, complete with sketches of butterflies flying over streams twisting around into spiral patterns (symbols of Desna and Pharasma both, to be sure) painted along the side of it.  The covered wagon is driven by a middle-aged Varisian woman named Zellara, and you have caught glimpses of a passenger riding inside the wagon, a strange pale-skinned fellow covered in heavy robes, a face-concealing scarf, and a cowl with a monkey pet (or familiar).  Like the professor, the strange duo have been largely shunned by Luramin and his hired guards, and thus kept to themselves, which perhaps only increases their aura of mystery.  Zellara has made passing remarks to those walking that someone could ride up front with her, or hang off the back of the wagon if they so wished to rest their feet, although she has asked that no one go inside the wagon as her traveling companion wishes for privacy. 
 A cart pulled by a pair of oxen, driven by an elven scholar (Lo’sais).  It is up to  Sarone  to determine what criteria are necessary for riding on his cart instead of walking. 
 

(OOC:  And so we begin!  Everyone can introduce their character and where they are within the caravan, whether that is on one of the vehicles making up said caravan or tromping along on foot at some point near one of the vehicles – please make note of where you are walking in relation to the vehicles so I can get some idea of whether you’re brining up the front or rear of the single-file formation.  And once we’ve got some introductory descriptions and banter settled, we’ll begin in earnest with your arrival in Ravengro!)
DarkOne-Rob
From his position near the front of the caravan Sir Kristoph Harrisson, self-announced Paladin of Pharasma, walks with a smile and a light step in spite of his heavy breastplate and weapons. Regardless of the cold and damp he seems in a jovial mood as he makes innocuous small talk with the greedy merchant Luramin Taigh. Over the course of their trip it seems he's deliberately poked fun at the man's "offer" of a seat, instead walking and talking instead of spending two gold crowns on a bench.

" Nearly there, now - I'm sure you're happy to be home, Luramin. Probably time to get back to the shop, start up a nice fire, and dry off from this mist. Do you do much business with Professor Lorrimor? Can you direct me to his home once we get there? " Kristoph asks, smiling at the pending end of their trip. " Once I've visited my friend, is there an inn or tavern in town? I'd like to meet some of the good people and join in their nightly feast! "

The striking man, with elven ears, distinctly otherworldly demeanor, size, bright red hair, and intense green eyes knows he is unlikely to receive a warm welcome in the insular town, but that doesn't seem to bother him. Despite his well polished, matte black armor and the bright blue spiral of Pharasma on the black overcoat, the unlikely knight seems to carry none of the seriousness or dour mood of Pharasmins. Instead he has opted for a joie de vivre that seems at stark contrast to the gloomy, dark country of Ustalav and the suspicious town they approach.
Farmerbink
Legs crossed lazily, Elian lounges alongside the woman Zellara, much preferring her company to the guards and the other even-odder folk heading to Ravengro.  " ...and that's how I saved the crown prince from what surely would have been an untimely demise- or at least dismemberment.  And would you believe, I've never received even a note of thanks?!  The nobility can be so ungrateful, don't you agree?! "  Laughing easily despite the gloomy weather and dire contents of his coat pocket, emerald green eyes twinkle back torchlight as the wagon bumps over yet another imperfection in the "road."

" You'd think they could at least maintain a  pretense  of maintaining the roads, " he chuckles, jokingly rubbing at his side as if bruised from the journey.  His eyes take in the clouds periodically, their undulations a mirror of the thoughts stirring behind his pretty eyes.    Danger.  Whispering Way.    For half a heartbeat, he scowls, before turning an easy smile upon Zellara once more.
Triskavanski
The Odd Varisian man dressed in a bizarre blend of a military uniform and some of the typical varisian cloths and jewelery rode on the back side of the wagon feeling more at home there than with the others. He was mostly silent, observing those around him at the present time. Occasionally though, when they were on breaks of travel, he would  perform minor fortune tellings with the harrow deck he kept in his inner breast pocket. He didn't quite have the flair that most Varisian had when it came to performances.
SanguinePenguin
The journey back to Ravengro leaves Tamara brimming with delight.  She got the professor’s message, then - after she had already decided to stop by and visit him - she remembered the time he told her about  secret  messages.  He always knew the right things to say!  Help?  Danger?  Beware?  He had her at “Hello”!

Tamara is a social animal and is happy to be in a caravan with such a melange of characters.  She readily and eagerly engaged in friendly conversation with her fellow travelers.  The slimy merchant’s absurd price for a seat made her laugh.  She didn’t really understand the joke, but it seemed impolite not to laugh at such a clear attempt at one.  She didn’t see any reason to go behind his back for a ride on his other cart, though it was nice of the folk to offer.  While she happily gave a friendly wave to the scholar bringing up the rear of the caravan, she had a more desirable place to sit.  Though Desna is a kindred spirit, and Tamara thought the old woman would make for delightful company, the middle wagon was being pulled by  magic horses .  Surely Desna would understand how irresistible that was.  The professor’s letter said to trust no one, but surely a man in a magic wagon pulled by magic horses doesn’t count!

When she introduced herself to this other professor, her curious mind set into a barrage of exuberant questions,  “wow!  How does it work?  Where do the horses come from?  What are they made out of?”   When the professor kindly offered a seat, she took it enthusiastically.  As they neared Ravengro, she asked the man,  “do you know Petros Lorrimor?  I recall he has some Lepidstadt affiliation.” 
Gyrfalcon
Sharing the carriage with Professor Adrissant and the irrepressible halfling Tamara was a rangy dark-haired man in slightly worn but clean traveling clothes. He half-smiles as he adjusts his glasses and runs a gloved hand through his hair as she barrages the poor Professor with questions about the magical carriage.

Aaron marked her as likely being an outsider to Ustalav - halflings being somewhat rare to begin with and lacking in the almost instinctual fear and revulsion of the arcane arts that marks much of the populace. At her last question, he enters the conversation as well.  ”Professor Lorrimor is well respected at the University for his knowledge and wisdom. I was fortunate to have taken one of his classes when I studied there.”  he offered.

As the conversation continues, he thinks back on the Professor’s letter. Something must be truly wrong to ask for Aaron’s aid – while he considered himself a fine student and historian, he was a mere dabbler in the arcane arts still. Perhaps the Professor had unearthed some tome that required more extensive research? But then, there would have been no need for the secret message written so.

It was something that Aaron continued to fret over as the magical carriage smoothly passed over the road.
Sarone
 
 Spoiler: Description: 
  A half elf of middle age, Lo'sais is wearing light blue and tan clothes of a priest, devoted to Sarenrae.  A wooden holy symbol of the Sun Goddess hangs from a simple twine around his neck.  His brown hair has started to grey, and the lines of too many suns cross his eyes.

Besides his age, the other distinct feature of him is his burnt arms, as though some great fire had tried to consume the flesh.  On closer inspection, a scar of a cat's eye can be seen on the back of his hands, ivory white against the burns.
 


Taking up the rear, Lo'sais guides his oxen from his seat on the cart.    Better to let the young find their own way than be imposed upon,   Lo'sais thinks to himself, a smile crossing his lips.    Petros, your skill at diplomacy in an adventure has always been a light to the world.  Hard to believe that I have spent so long away.  

Inside the cart, Lo'sais has a back pack, loaded with a limited array of supplies expertly stored.  Next to his seat, a spear rests with a light cross bow.  A scan from his eyes indicate a wariness to the travels.    And equally hard to believe that Agatha would "warn me" of what is to come.  Her being "paid" to stall my travels suggests far more is at play.  

Hearing the paladin's jovial banter, Lo'sais smiles.   "My good knight, Petros is a fine diplomat, able to find a friend in any village or town, and a man of keen intellect, wit, and cunning.  His time at Lepidstat should have made his ability with the blade."   Lo'sais says from his spot.   "Likewise, he would recommend that one takes up a seat while traveling, to be well rested as a guest and visitor.  He said that his family bought a residence ten years ago and I have been meaning to take time away from the clan caravan to visit." 
Inspectre
Leaning out through the open window of his carriage’s door, Luramin gives a wistful sigh at Kristoph’s comments.

“Aye, it will be nice to be back home – I miss seeing my girls.  But someone has to go buy whatever supplies are needed from Tamrivena to keep our shop running!  Ah . . . I should have known you’d be looking for the Professor, you look like the sort he’d make friends with on one of his foolish adventures.”

Luramin shakes his head, a faint tone of disapproval in his voice.

“Suppose at least now, Kendra is old enough to take care of herself while he’s off doing . . . whatever.  Anyway, it’s the old two-story manor house with the dark grey roof, just south of the town square – can’t miss it.  Give my regards to Kendra when you see her.  If you’re looking for drink, only place in town for that is the Laughing Demon – that’s at the end of the western road out from the town square, right along the banks of the river.  It’s the same for lodging – only one place in town for that, the Outward Inn, right along the main thoroughfare in the town square, can’t miss it.  Although with so many people heading into Ravengro today, they might run out of room quick.  I suppose I could offer you a spot in one of the backrooms of my store . . . but I imagine you won’t be interested in that.”

Luramind concludes, with just the faintest hint of bitterness in his voice at Kristoph’s imagined refusal of that offer (no doubt at a price) as well.

Towards the back of the caravan, Zellara laughs lightly at Elian’s jokes, although sadness glints in her eyes as she looks out into the surrounding mist-shrouded forest.

“People in general often don’t appreciate the help they are offered, but where would we all be without it?  Sometimes it is necessary to do what needs to be done, without reward and in spite of the consequences.”

The Varisian woman brightens again as Elian brings up the road after the wagon justles over a particularly deep pothole.

“Like fixing these roads, for example!”

She turns her gaze around the side of the wagon to the back end, where the odd varisian man (Sorin) was perched, narrowly still on-board after going over that pothole.

“Still with us back there?  You know, if you’re interested, when we get to Ravengro I could show you a few tricks with that Harrow deck of yours.  That was my livelihood for a time, after all!”

In the magical caravan at the center of the caravan, Professor Adivon did his best to answer Tamara’s barrage of questions.  Despite his up-tight appearance, however, Adivon seemed to actually enjoy having a student to lecture on the trip.  The one problem was that he lacked Petros’ ability to simplify his explanations to fit his audience’s familiarity with the arcane, and so Tamara’s relatively simple questions of “where did the carriage come from and how does it work” resulted in a detailed lecture on the meta-physics of the planes of existence and conjuration magic which even Aaron had problems following at points.  Much like during the rest of this trip since Tamara started riding in the carriage, these complicated answers would undoubtedly spawn more questions from her which would result in endless more lectures, but there probably were worse ways to pass the time to Ravengro, probably.

Fortunately/Unfortunately, the latest lecture gets sidetracked quickly by Tamara’s follow-up question of whether or not Professor Adivon knew of Professor Petros.  This earns what would probably pass for a warm smile on Adivon’s otherwise stern face.

“Yes, we are old colleagues in fact.  Suffice it to say, Adivon the Professor was once Adivon the Student, and Professor Petros Lorrimor was there to help set his course through life.  I hope only that one day I can finally repay that debt I owe him.”

At the back of the caravan, Lo’sais listens to Kristoph’s banter with the merchant, and reflects on what he knew of Petros’s fairly private life after his “retirement” a little over ten years ago now.  Obviously, he had kept busy with adventures over that time, finding new students like this Kristoph to mentor.  This “Kendra” that Luramin mentioned was new, and while in his youth Lorrimor had his share of paramours the comment that he was “old enough to care for herself now” suggests a daughter rather than a lover.  Petros had never mentioned having a daughter, although that does suggest a possible reason for his sudden retirement a decade ago.  Curious though, his desire to keep her existence secret from everyone – was he worried about some sort of scandal getting back to the university in Lepidstadt?

*****
Everyone travels along the road in their own conversations and thoughts for a few minutes more, and as the dense treeline begins to slowly thin out you can see the hints of civilization ahead – lights and smoke through the trees.  It would not be long now, perhaps half a minute or so, before you round the final bend in the road up ahead and come within sight of Ravengro proper.  At that same moment, softly at first but steadily growing in volume, comes the eerie sound of a flute, drifting through the trees and mist, off somewhere out of sight within the forest.

 Flute Music 

A moment after that, and drowning out the sound of the flute (although it is still faintly audible) is the rasping sound of dozens of leathery wings as small shapes emerge out of the shelter of the treeline to either side of the road.  Roughly the size of a closed fist, the feather-covered balls with leathery wings and dagger-sized beaks are easily recognizable as a local variety of stirge.  A dozen of them break through the treeline to descend towards the caravan, with perhaps a dozen or so more visible fliting among the trees as a second wave closes in.

 
 Spoiler: Perception DC 17 

In the depths of the trees to the north of the caravan, you can see a significantly larger stirge slowly moving closer to the caravan.  Rather than slightly larger than your fist, this one is more the size of a large dog, and is considerably more insectoid in appearance with a bloated transparent stomach chamber and a beak that more resembles a spear than a dagger.  For the moment, it seems fixated on the lead carriage in the caravan.
 


The caravan guards curse and fumble for their weapons, hefting crossbows and clubs as they scramble to prepare against some danger at last.  Luramin likewise curses and swings the shutter of his carriage window shut, leaving Kristoph out alone to face the onrushing cloud of bloodsucking . . . insects?  Birds?  Something in-between created by some mad wizard eons ago in a pathetic bid to make the world a slightly more obnoxious place?

The stirges emerging near to Adivon’s carriage seem to somehow sense that the horses conjured by the professor are not real (via scent or some sort of extra sense related to their blood-drinking?), and thus divert themselves towards the cart full of guards.  Adivon observes this after opening his window a crack, and then lets it slip back and nods in satisfaction.

“We have nothing to worry about, my fine traveling companions.  The stirges out there cannot get in here so long as we keep the windows shut, and they will have no interest in the conjured horse and driver of our carriage.”

The professor gives another look at Tamara and sighs.

“But I suppose you are going to want to help the rest of our fellow travelers, aren’t you young lady?  *sigh*  Very well, I will offer what spell support I can.  But if any stirges come back this way, I will be shutting my window again.  Some of those foul little things can carry disease in their bites!”

The professor reaches up to his neck, uttering the words to a spell as he touches his scarf, unwinding it from his neck to twirl about Tamara’s shoulders a moment later.

“There.  My scarf will help protect you and aid you in battle, young lady.  You need only tell it what to do in order for it to aid you.  Please be sure to return it after you have slaked your bloodthirst.”

(OOC:  Adivon casts Allied Cloak on his scarf, and then gives it to Tamara.  For the next 8 rounds, Tamara gains a +2 shield bonus to AC, and may as a free action once/round ask for an aid another check from the scarf for +2 To-Hit, +2 AC, or +2 on a skill check.  Adivon’s caster level+casting stat is high enough to ensure that the scarf will also hit the DC 10 check needed for the scarf to actually help.)

Likewise, the stirges emerging near Zellara’s wagon begin to head towards it, and then flit about for a moment as if confused, before diverting themselves back towards Lo’sais and his beefy oxen.

(OOC:  And so we come around back to all of you!  We will discuss whether we wish to have initiative counts or simply a “good guys, bad guys” sequence of turn orders for future battles.  For this one, I think we can get away with just a “your turn, their turn” set of orders since the stirges’ are pretty simple and are each just going to fly about and try to individually drink someone’s blood.

Tamara and Aaron are both inside Adivon's carriage at the moment.  It will be a move action to swing open either a window to shoot/spell out of, or to open the actual door and step out.  I'm fine with both opening the door and taking effectively a 5' step outside of the carriage to one of the squares north or south of the carriage proper to take a single Move action, giving you a Standard to launch an attack or move further about the map.  Kristoph is on the ground presently and can move where he pleases.  Elian, Sorin, and Lo'Sais are currently sitting in the driver's seats or back-of-wagon seats, and can stand up as a move action or jump down to a nearby square as a move action - you will probably not want to stand up and fight while on top of your respective wagons for more than a round or two - i.e. Balance checks may be coming at some point).

 Battle Map 
 
 Spoiler: Knowledge 20 on Whispering Way 

One of the main reasons why the Whispering Way has succeeded in largely keeping its secrets is that its adherents are fanatically dedicated to maintaining that secrecy.  Neophyte members are told only what they need to know, leaving only the upper echelons of the organization cognizant of the Way's actual philosophies and goals.  Very little is ever written down in physical form, orders are instead communicated in-person or via magic, and conversation between members is again often held either magically or at no louder than a whisper (hence the name "The Whispering Way").  Further frustrating efforts to learn more about the organization, those members which are initially captured alive often commit suicide via cyanide capsule or magic.  Such methods also tend to leave the corpse too damaged to be useful for spells such as Speak with Dead, and those who run afoul of the Whispering Way also often have their corpses mutilated in the same fashion.  It is little wonder then that the chief symbol of the organization is a gagged skull, often decorated in such a way to not be immediately apparent at first glance.
 
Gyrfalcon
Aaron frowned as the faint strains of flute music floated through the air. At first, he thought someone on one of the other wagons had struck up the tune, though he found it eerie and mournful.  But all thoughts of musical taste fled as the stirges flooded out of the tree line, the rasping beat of their wings audible even inside the wagons.

 ”Whatever aid you can give would be most appreciated, Professor.”  Aaron said, swallowing as he took up his crossbow and checked it quickly.  ”I’ll… step out as well. The more people they see, the less likely they’ll gang up one person. We’ll need to see them off quickly though. Mother of Souls! There must be a whole swarm out there.” 

He swallowed again, took a deep breath and barged out of the wagon, arcane phrases spilling from his lips as he leaves the safety of the enchanted carriage.  ”I wish I could have just stayed inside. For now… let’s hope this makes it hard for those beasts to pierce through. [Mage Armor]!” 
 
 Spoiler: OOC and Rolls 

  Perception  - (1d20+1)[ 4 ] 
Move: Open door and step out of the carriage 1 space S
Standard: Cast Mage Armor – AC +4, 1 hour duration

HP 8/8 | AC 15 (Touch 11, FF 14)
 
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Spoiler: Kristoph's Status, Round 1 
   Kristoph Harrisson   
Male Lawful Good Half-Elf Paladin 1,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP  13/13,  Speed  20 ft (30 ft. Base)
 AC  19,  Touch  11,  Flat-footed  18,  CMD  14,  Fort  4,  Ref  1,  Will  1,  CMB  +3,  Base Attack Bonus  1,    Action Points  3
 Falcata (18 GP)   +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x3)
 Breastplate (200 GP) ,    Heavy Steel Shield (20 GP)  (+6 Armor, +2 Shield, +1 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 12, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 9, Cha 17
 Condition  Smite Evil (0/1 Used)
 

Looking around him Kristoph steps back between carts and readies his wickedly curved blade. " There's a bigger, nastier looking stirge out in the woods! Someone shoot it! " warns the paladin in a loud, confident voice. " If you're outside the carts get between them so less stirge come at you at once! "

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Initiative:  (1d20+3)[ 12 ] 
Perception  (1d20-1)[ 19 ]  vs DC 17  (Pass) 

Kristoph moves to  M9 , drawing his falcata as he moves, and readies an attack against the first stirge (or other obvious enemy) that come within melee range: Falcata  (1d20+3)[ 5 ]  to hit,  (1d20+3)[ 19 ]  (19-20/x3),  (1d8+2)[ 9 ]  slashing damage,  (2d8+4)[ 14 ]  critical strike damage (if applicable).  Edit: This attack will most likely miss. 
 
SanguinePenguin
Tamara looks excitedly out the window with the professor, an ecstatic grin spread from ear to ear as she grasps the hilt of the large blade on her back.  She accepts the scarf with a hint of surprise,  ”you are right, I just  have  to go help!  Thank you for the scarf, Adivon!  I’ll bring it back soon!”   When Aaron opens the carriage door, Tamara darts past him and a speed nonsensical for vacating a carriage. Her short stature and eagerness combine into a substantial fall, but the halfling lands with a roll, and transitions to a run without a missed step, draws the blade off her back, and dashes toward the nearest stirge.

 ”Alright scarf, help me strike!”  she leaps toward the stirge as the scarf feints in one direction and Tamara uses that distraction to direct her blade in a powerful overhead swing.

 
 Spoiler: Actions - Round 1 
Move:  to J19
Power attack K18:   (1d20+4)[ 5 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 8 ] 
CC (23+):   (1d20+4)[ 12 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 7 ] 
 
 Spoiler: Tamara - Round 1 

   Tamara Whittlecrop Brockhouse   
F CG Halfling Barbarian,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP  13/13,  Speed  30
 AC  19,  Touch  16,  Flat-footed  16,  CMD  15,  Fort  4,  Ref  4,  Will  0 (4 fear),  CMB  +2,  Base Attack Bonus  1
   Greatsword   +4 (1d10+3, 19-20/x2)
   Chakram (5)   +5 (1d6+2, x2)
 brace, reach, sunder Lucerne hammer   +4 (1d10+3, x2)
   Studded Leather  (+3 Armor, +3 Dex, +1 Size, +2 scarf)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 13, Wis 8, Cha 14
 Condition  Allied cloak 8/8
 

 
Gyrfalcon
 Ignore this, rolling on the forums is dramatic. 
Gyrfalcon
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Since I can't go back and edit rolls into a previous post, I'll do the Knowledge (arcana) check here for what Aaron knows about stirges.

 Knowledge (Arcana)  : [roll]1d20+8[/roll]
 
Gyrfalcon
One last time...

 Knowledge (Arcana)  :  (1d20+8)[ 18 ] 
Farmerbink
Elian's ears perk up at the odd, otherworldly music.  " Didn't see any musicians with our company... " he murmurs quietly, looking around eagerly.  When the sound is then summarily drowned out by insectoid flight, he frowns- more like a pout, really.  " Of  course  it couldn't be that easy, " he grumbles, as he rises to a standing position.  He braces a foot on his chair, and draws his short bow, taking aim at one of the pests.

 
 Spoiler: Elian, round 1 
   Elian Evenstarr   
M NG Dhampir Dirge Bard,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   / ,  Speed 
 AC  15,  Touch  13,  Flat-footed  12,  CMD  13,  Fort  0,  Ref  5,  Will  4,  CMB  0,  Base Attack Bonus  0
  Short Bow (20 common arrows)   +3 (1d6, x3)
  Rapier   +0 (1d6, 18-20, x2)
  Dagger   +0/+3 (1d4, 19-20, x2)
  Leather  (+2 Armor, +3 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 10, Dex 16, Con 8, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 18
 Condition  None

If standing and drawing his bow are both an action, that'll be it for this round.  If he can attack this round, in addition:
 (1d20+3)[ 4 ]  shortbow
 (1d20+3)[ 10 ]  crit confirmation (23, x3)
 (1d6)[ 4 ]  damage
 (2d6)[ 7 ]  crit bonus
 
Triskavanski
Sorin hops off the back of the wagon that he was on, adjusting his hat.  "Oh dear. This is a bit of an issue. I should have been preparing before we started getting here."   This was going to be an issue. He wasn't prepared for flying creatures. Still he prepares to be ready to use what magic he did have that could help against the threat.
Inspectre
Up near the front of the caravan, the two guards riding up front are already prepared for trouble, pushing themselves up to a standing position as the drivers pull their horses up to a halt.
As the caravan slows to a halt, the two guards raise their heavy crossbows up to their shoulders and fire off shots at the leading hand-sized furballs swooping in, one of them managing to hit a stirge dead-center with his bolt and sending it tumbling out of the air in pieces as it explodes in a cloud of ragged feathers.

 
 Spoiler: Guards 

Guard #1 and Guard #3 stand up from their seats, fire their heavy crossbows.  Guard #1 gets a dead-shot max damage hit, and splatters Stirge 2.

Driver and Guard #2 pull their respective carriage and wagon up to a stop, and Guard #4 hops off the back of the wagon and gets his crossbow ready - too late, as it turns out.
 


Kristoph retreats to the relative safety behind the lead carriage and in front of the supply wagon, calling out the existence of a larger stirge lurking within the woods.

Catching sight of the beast thanks to Kristoph's alert, Elian stands up and snaps off a long-distance shot with his bow, but the arrow gets hopelessly lost within the dense thicket and probably hits a tree trunk somewhere.

Aaron throws up one side door to the carriage and jumps out, casting a spell to help protect himself while recalling what he knows on Stirges.

 
 Spoiler: Knowledge Check Results 

The result of some mad wizard's quest to make the world a somewhat more obnoxious place to live, the stirge has thrived and multiplied over the millennia, spreading to nearly every corner of Golarion.  There are some minor variations among the sub-species in various nations, Ustalav's species commonly adopting a more ratty-looking avian appearance, as the course fur-like down feathers helps keep the creature warm in the damp, cool air.

While not very intelligent at all, the stirge does possess an animalistic cunning and pack mentality, although in the presence of ample prey they will generally spread out to feed rather than concentrate on one creature.  Likely this is due to the fact that their sole form of sustenance is the blood of other creatures.  While they can be tricked or frightened off (particularly by the threat of fire, much like any other wild animal), stirges have impressively keen eyesight and are able to track their prey quite accurately even in dense undergrowth or smoke.

Stirges attack their prey by swooping in and then using the claws at the tip of each wing and their talons to grasp hold, and they can be quite difficult to detach once settled in place.  Once attached, they immediately insert their proboscis-like beak into any nearby exposed flesh of their victim and begin draining blood, although armor can sometimes make it difficult for them to find purchase for a time before they inevitably worm their beak through a chink in the armor.  They will drain several pints of blood from their victim before their stomach chamber is full, at which point they detach and fly off to digest their meal.  Not particularly clean animals, stirges have been known to pass blood-born diseases from victim to victim.

Some species of stirges have also been known to be strangely affected by music, being rendered relatively docile and harmless while the music continues, as if respectfully listening to the music.  More rarely, music has also been known to drive them into a feeding frenzy although this phenomenon is not well documented and may be hearsay.

Summary:
Stirges will fly into your square and "attack" you, making a touch attack.  If successful, they will attach and attempt to begin draining blood.  If they succeed against your normal AC as well as your touch AC, they begin draining blood that same round, otherwise the first Con damage happens at the end of its next turn (assuming it's still attached and alive at that point).  It is effectively grappled while attached, thus losing its Dex to AC, but gaining a bonus to its CMD to resist grapple attempts to remove it.  Because it's a Tiny creature, however, the creature it is attached to is NOT considered grappled and may move and act freely.  There is a 10% chance the stirge is diseased, and will expose the victim to said disease if it successfully drains blood (dealing 1 Con damage/round).  After 4 rounds of Con damage, it is full and will fly off.  They are fast fliers (40' move), have Darkvision/Low-light, and Scent.  That's about it.
 


Tamara slips out after Aaron and rushes up to take a wild swing at the nearest stirge, although she hits only air despite the scarf moving with a life of its own, snapping at the stirge and attempting to swat it closer to Tamara's blade.

Near the back of the formation, Sorin hops off the back of Zellara's wagon.  Behind Elian, the door to the interior of the covered wagon swings open a crack, revealing a heavily obscured figure in robe, scarf, and cowl.  A grey monkey sits perched on one shoulder, which chatters at Elian as it holds out a heavy glass flask filled with a viscous orange substance.

"Heheheh, go ahead stranger!  Free of charge!"

 
 Spoiler: Trader &amp; Elian Only 

Rummages around inside the wagon, opens the door and offers a flask of alchemist's fire to Elian.
 

 
 Spoiler: Elian Only 

Right next to Zellara, you are faintly able to hear that she is humming something under her breath.  A low, thrumming beat similar to that of the eerie flute, although subtly different.  It doesn't seem to be quite canceling out the flute music, but certainly the stirges are staying pointedly away from Zellara's wagon, as if repelled by something.
 


At the back of the caravan, Lo'sais readies his crossbow and casts for divine protection as the wave of buzzing stirges closes in with startling rapidity.
And then, the stirges are upon you all.
Inspectre
Nearly a dozen of the tiny terrors focus on the horses, one settling on each horse pulling Luramin's carriage, two each settling on the horses pulling the supply wagon, and two &amp; three stirges settling on Lo'sais's oxen's well-muscled backs to feed.

The other half of the swarm comes for you and the guards.  Each guard gets a stirge buzzing about his head and attempting to land on his shoulders, the beasts seeming to intrinsically understand that going for the guards' necks was the best way to circumvent the chainmail and metal helms they were wearing.  The unlucky guard at the back of the wagon quickly finds himself with two stirges flying about his head, unlucky by circumstance as each attempts to land on one shoulder to begin feeding.

 
 Spoiler: Guard Stirges 

Each stirge flies into a guard's space and attempts to attach to him.  This movement would normally provoke an AoO, but each guard has crossbows out at the moment so no luck there for them.

Stirge 3 vs. Guard 1
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 15 ]  vs. Touch/AC

Stirge 5 vs. Guard 2
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 14 ]  vs. Touch/AC

Stirge 8 vs. Guard 3
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 26 ]  vs. Touch/AC

Stirge 17 vs. Guard 4
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 18 ]  vs. Touch/AC

Stirge 18 vs. Guard 4
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 16 ]  vs. Touch/AC
 


One stirge slips between Luramin's carriage and the supply wagon, zeroing in on Kristoph.  While the young paladin's readied swing misses the feathery parasite, he may have a chance to catch it with the back swing as it swoops in to land on his arm.

 
 Spoiler: Stirge vs. Kristoph 

Stirge 14 moves into Kristoph's space.  This provokes an AoO from him as he has a melee weapon ready.  If he hits, this may well negate the rest of the stirge's turn (because it will be dead).  Otherwise, bitey bite!
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 25 ]  vs. Touch/AC
Hit Both: The stirge deals 1 point of Con damage
Hit Touch Only: The stirge attaches and will start draining blood at the end of its next turn.  It loses its Dex bonus to AC.  Kristoph is not grappled and may move/act freely to hit or pull the stirge off.
 


The stirge that Tamara attempts to cut in half responds by trying to attach to her leg.  Another one flies out of the woods to join it on the halfling's other leg, while a third and final stirge comes out and attempts to land on her back.

 
 Spoiler: Stirges vs. Tamara 

Stirge 6 &amp; 19 move into Tamara's space and attempts to attach.  Stirge 20 moves into Tamara's space, but as it is a double move for this one it just hangs out there and does nothing this round.  All three provoke an AoO from Tamara, although unless she has Combat Reflexes she only gets to try and swat one of them.

Stirge 6
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 9 ]  vs. Touch/AC
Hit Both: The stirge deals 1 point of Con damage
Hit Touch Only: The stirge attaches and will start draining blood at the end of its next turn.  It loses its Dex bonus to AC.  Tamara is not grappled and may move/act freely to hit or pull the stirge off.

Stirge 19
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 26 ]  vs. Touch/AC
Hit Both: The stirge deals 1 point of Con damage
Hit Touch Only: The stirge attaches and will start draining blood at the end of its next turn.  It loses its Dex bonus to AC.  Tamara is not grappled and may move/act freely to hit or pull the stirge off.
 


On the other side of the carriage, Aaron is likewise swarmed by two stirges as several of them heading for Zellara's wagon seem to divert this way instead.

 
 Spoiler: Stirges vs. Aaron 

Stirge 9 &amp; 21 move into Aaron's square and attempt to attach.  This will provoke an AoO if Aaron has a melee weapon out (or has unarmed strikes), but I suspect neither of those apply here.

Stirge 9
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 20 ]  vs. Touch/AC
Hit Both: The stirge deals 1 point of Con damage
Hit Touch Only: The stirge attaches and will start draining blood at the end of its next turn.  It loses its Dex bonus to AC.  Aaron is not grappled and may move/act freely to hit or pull the stirge off.

Stirge 21
Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 20 ]  vs. Touch/AC
Hit Both: The stirge deals 1 point of Con damage
Hit Touch Only: The stirge attaches and will start draining blood at the end of its next turn.  It loses its Dex bonus to AC.  Aaron is not grappled and may move/act freely to hit or pull the stirge off.
 


Lo'sais's cart is swarmed by stirges, as the lion's share of them heading for Zellara's wagon ahead of his divert back to him without warning.  Most settle in onto his oxen to feast on the heavily muscled beef, but one moves to land on his side.

 
 Spoiler: Stirge vs. Lo'sias 

Stirge 12 moves into Lo'sias square.  Since he has a crossbow out, it doesn't suffer an AoO for doing so.

Attach:  (1d20+8)[ 28 ]  vs. Touch/AC
Hit Both: The stirge deals 1 point of Con damage
Hit Touch Only: The stirge attaches and will start draining blood at the end of its next turn.  It loses its Dex bonus to AC.  Lo'sais is not grappled and may move/act freely to hit or pull the stirge off.  Although that's probably unlikely what with the Blackened curse and all.
 


I don't think Sorin has a melee weapon out, but if he has some way of making AoOs, he may take one against the stirges swarming over Lo'sais's oxen.
Inspectre
Last bit of Round 1:

From the trees, there is a loud thrumming sound as what Kristoph saw in the trees comes swooping into sight - a considerably larger (dog-sized rather than fist-sized), bloated stirge, its translucent belly already distorted and stretched, hanging below its sword-like beak.  More insectoid than avian, the gigantic stirge swoops down out of the treeline and impales the driver of Luramin's carriage through the chest, rapidly sucking the blood out through the wound.

 
 Spoiler: Giant Stirge 

Charges Luramin's Driver.  As it is Small, it does not need to enter the driver's space to attack, it does damage with its attaching bite, grapples, and drains blood twice as fast (nasty!)
To-Hit:  (1d20+11)[ 17 ]  (+2 Charge)
Damage:  (1d4-1)[ 1 ] 
Hit: Grab
CMB:  (1d20+6)[ 13 ] 
Success: 2 points of Con damage
 

  ROUND 2!  
Inspectre
The guards are caught off-guard by the suddenness of having stirges in their faces.  The guard riding on Luramin's carriage drops his crossbow and tumbles off the side, seemingly trying to twist the stirge under him as he falls off the carriage and crush the beast beneath him.  The guard atop the supply wagon is somewhat more calm, dropping a hand away from his crossbow to draw a dagger and attempting to stab it into the back of the stirge hanging off his shoulder.  The guard driving the supply wagon next to him has a much more difficult time of it, attempting to keep the horses calm, when they were already agitated by the flute music and now have tiny beasts sucking out their blood.  "Get this thing off me!"  He grunts to the guard next to him as he struggles to pull back on the reins and keep the horses under control.  Finally at the back of the wagon the last guard gives a grunt of pain from the double bloodsucking he is having to endure as he attempts to use his crossbow as a makeshift club to bludgeon one of the striges off him.

 
 Spoiler: Guards 

Guard #1
Attempts to grapple and bodyslam the stirge (off the top rope of the carriage!)
Grapple:  (1d20+5)[ 8 ] 
Damage:  (1d6+3)[ 7 ] 

Guard #2
Focuses on keeping the horses in check

Guard #3
Draws a dagger and stabs at the stirge
To-Hit:  (1d20+5)[ 21 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 6 ] 

Guard #4
Attempts to bludgeon Stirge 17 off of him
Grapple:  (1d20+5)[ 21 ] 
 


Unfortunately the guard doesn't so much land on top of the stirge as just belly-flop down onto the ground with the stirge still hanging from his neck.  The other guard does manage to slit the throat of the stirge attached to him, leaving a trickle of his own blood running down onto his armor and he works to then pry the stirge's beak out of his flesh.  The guard at the back of the supply wagon successfully bludgeons the stirge off of him, although the creature appears merely dazed rather than actually harmed by being removed in such a fashion.


The driver screams and scrambles against the dog-sized stirge and its beak embedded in his chest.  As he flails about, he lets go of the reins, and the horses pulling Luramin's carriage rear up, and begin to pull the carriage forward again, lurching it back up to speed.

 
 Spoiler: Driver 

Flails at the giant stirge, attempting to escape the grapple
Grapple:  (1d20+2)[ 14 ] 
 

  Complication!  

Next round Luramin's carriage is going to begin moving, out of control, down the road, first at 10', and then 20' and so on, until it crashes or someone brings the horses back under control.  Or the driver survives and manages to do so, but it seems unlikely he's going to be around for much longer.

Further back, Adivon pokes his head out through the still-open doorway, sees both Tamara and Aaron swarmed, and begins intoning a spell while making sharp cutting motions with the fingers of his one hand.  A moment later, four silvery bolts of magic lance out from his hand, two slamming into one of the stirges on Aaron while the other two unerringly streak around the magical carriage to slam into the one stirge currently attached to Tamara.  The magic blasts the two stirges apart, which unfortunately does have the side effect of splattering the two with their own blood as the stirges' stomachs burst open.  Perhaps a bit unheroically after that, Adivon reaches out, grasps the handle of the open carriage door, and pulls it shut.

 
 Spoiler: Adivon 

Casts magic missile at Stirge 9 &amp; 19
Stirge 9 -  (2d4+2)[ 5 ] 
Stirge 19 -  (2d4+2)[ 5 ] 
 

 
 Spoiler: Status 

 Party 
Kristoph: -1 Con, 1 Stirge Attached
Tamara: -1 Con
Aaron: -2 Con, 1 Stirge Attached
Lo'sais: -1 Con, 1 Stirge Attached

 Allies 
Driver: 1 Damage, -2 Con, Giant Stirge Attached

Guard 1: 1 Stirge Attached
Guard 2: 1 Stirge Attached
Guard 3: -1 Con
Guard 4: -1 Con, 1 Stirge Attached


 Baddies 
 Stirge 2  - DEAD
Stirge 3 - (Attached)
Stirge 5 - (Attached)
 Stirge 8  - DEAD
 Stirge 9  - DEAD
 Stirge 12  - DEAD
Stirge 14 - 1 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 17 - 1 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 18 - (Attached)
Stirge 19 - 1 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 21 - 1 Blood (Attached)
 

 Battle Map 

And back around to you guys!
Gyrfalcon
Despite the glowing panes of his magic armor, two stirges crash into Aaron, sending his stumbling as their proboscis plunge into his flesh, draining blood at a dizzying rate. The bolts of magic from Adivon come as a welcome reprieve as they blow one to pieces, leaving its proboscis dangling from his shoulder, but the one attached to his thigh continues to feed.
The caravan is in chaos as the stirges swarm over the people and animals, but the young mage has to focus on his own situation first. With no one paying attention to him now that the Professor has sealed his carriage, Aaron casts another spell.
 [Draconic]”Foul mistake, the Abyss take you! [Chill Touch].”  he casts a spell and a blue glow surrounds his hand as he channels a pulse of negative energy to end the stirge still sucking his blood.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics and Status 

Standard: Cast Chill Touch and target the stirge grappling him.
 Chill Touch - Touch Attack vs Stirge 21  –  (1d20-1)[ 5 ] 
 Chill Touch – Damage  –  (1d6)[ 2 ] 
If successful: Fort check, 1 Str damage on fail

HP 7/7 | AC 15 (Touch 11)
Active Effects: Mage Armor (+4 AC, 1h), Chill Touch (1 round)
 
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Spoiler: Kristoph's Status, Round 2 
   Kristoph Harrisson   
Male Lawful Good Half-Elf Paladin 1,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   12 /13,  Speed  20 ft (30 ft. Base)
 AC  19,  Touch  11,  Flat-footed  18,  CMD  14,  Fort  4,  Ref  1,  Will  1,  CMB  +3,  Base Attack Bonus  1,    Action Points  3
 Falcata (18 GP)   +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x3)
 Breastplate (200 GP) ,    Heavy Steel Shield (20 GP)  (+6 Armor, +2 Shield, +1 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 12, Con  14   13 , Int 12, Wis 9, Cha 17
 Condition  Smite Evil (0/1 Used)
 

" Oh no you don't! " cries Kristoph as he lunges after the moving cart in front of him, running up and around it to get to the front where he can try to calm the horses. " Whoa! Whoa! " he says, ignoring the stirge attached to him as he tries to address the larger problem.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Handle Animal to stop the horses from panicking and get the wagon to stop:  (1d20+7)[ 14 ] .

If it matters, Kristoph will take the reins in hand forcefully if necessary. If I need any other dice rolls, please let me know.
 
Triskavanski
Sorin tries to at least minimize the number of bugs near him, splashing the closest to him with acid. Then he moves towards the center of the wagons, unable to do anything to save the man and horses from the giant mosquitoes from hell

 
 Spoiler 

 (1d20-2)[ 8 ]  touch ac
 (1d3)[ 2 ]  acid damage

move to O 26
 
Farmerbink
A knowing glance flickers towards Zellara, and an appreciative nod of professional approval follows.   " Would have loved to hit that one, "  he murmurs ruefully before raising his voice.  " Harken, friends!  The ballad of Sir John of Elwood's! "

He bursts into song, urging his companions and allies to feats beyond their normal means.
" Don't you know, we still stand, taller yet than before!?
Bearing visage of survivors, feeling grand- like days of yore?... "

  +1 to-hit and on saves against fear!  
 
 Spoiler: Elian, round 2 
   Elian Evenstarr   
M NG Dhampir Dirge Bard,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   / ,  Speed 
 AC  15,  Touch  13,  Flat-footed  12,  CMD  13,  Fort  0,  Ref  5,  Will  4,  CMB  0,  Base Attack Bonus  0
  Short Bow (20 common arrows)   +3 (1d6, x3)
  Rapier   +0 (1d6, 18-20, x2)
  Dagger   +0/+3 (1d4, 19-20, x2)
  Leather  (+2 Armor, +3 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 10, Dex 16, Con 8, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 18
 Condition  Bardic performance: 6/7 rounds remaining

Elian will take the alchemist's fire, but instead of throwing it this round, he'll begin using bardic performance to inspire courage!  +1 to-hit and vs fear saves.
 
SanguinePenguin
Tamara lashes at a second stirge as it encroaches of her person.  It lances into her and she frowns, a bit mesmerized by how the creature seems to be pulling her blood into it.  Then it explodes in a shower of blood.  She spies her wizard pal ducking back into the carriage, and she calls out,  ”thanks, Adivon!  Alright cloak!  Let’s do this!” 

Noting by the stirge skill at dodging, she grins, determined to catch the critter, she tries to time a strike well and swings.  Immediately afterwards, she leans back with a deft hop, skip, and tumble, landing several feet away.  She beckons them to encroach and lines up a second attack.

 
 Spoiler: Actions - Round 2 
Enter rage
Attack S20:   (1d20+9)[ 10 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 16 ] 
CC (27+):   (1d20+9)[ 18 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 14 ] 
Move (acrobatics) to I16:   (1d20+8)[ 16 ]  does not provoke if beats stirge CMD

AoO Attack vs first to provoke:   (1d20+7)[ 10 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 15 ] 
CC (25+):   (1d20+7)[ 22 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 7 ] 
 
 Spoiler: Tamara - Round 2 

   Tamara Whittlecrop Brockhouse   
F CG Halfling Barbarian,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP  13/13,  Speed  30
 AC  19,  Touch  14,  Flat-footed  14,  CMD  15,  Fort  4,  Ref  4,  Will  0 (4 fear),  CMB  +2,  Base Attack Bonus  1
   Greatsword   +4 (1d10+3, 19-20/x2)
   Chakram (5)   +5 (1d6+2, x2)
 brace, reach, sunder Lucerne hammer   +4 (1d10+3, x2)
   Studded Leather  (+3 Armor, +3 Dex, +1 Size, +2 scarf)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 16, Con  12  11, Int 13, Wis 8, Cha 14
 Condition  Allied cloak 7/8
Con -1
Rage 4/4
Bardic performance

 

 
Sarone
Seeing a stirge land next to and attacking, Lo'sais scowls as he grabs his dagger.    Blast it, Abatha, I didn't need this to happen...  
 
 Spoiler: Lo'sais Actions 

Move:  Draw Dagger
Standard.  Attack with the dagger.    (1d20-5)[ 3 ]   To attack.  If it hits,  (1d4-1)[ 2 ] 

If a critical Threat (unlikely):  (1d20-5)[ 10 ]   To attack.  If it hits,  (1d4-1)[ 1 ] 
 
Inspectre
Kristoph runs around the side of Luramin's carriage, forcing the growing pain in his arm to the back of his mind as he grabs hold of the horse's reins.
The horses buck and struggle for a moment more to be free of the harness connecting each of them to the carriage, and then they both settle both with a final whiney of discomfort as the stirges on their necks continue to grow fuller.

Aaron and Sorin's respective spells fail to hit the buzzing bird-squito hybrids, and even with the aid of Adivon's scarf Tamara fails to connect with her weapon - although at least the halfling does manage to tumble away from them, forcing them to swoop after her and into the path of her blade again (Tamara had an AoO from last round against the stirges, so she still has another to-hit roll that she needs to make for this next set of AoOs coming up on the stirge's Round 2).

Lo'sais struggles with the stirge sucking out his lifeblood, mentally cursing his, well, curse as he struggles to land a strong enough stab.

Undaunted by the attacks passing harmlessly by them, the attached stirges continue to feed while those few not currently attached to a victim go looking for a new one.
Which at this point, is pretty much just the two buzzing after Tamara as well as the one knocked free by the guard at the back of the supply wagon.
Unfortunately for Tamara, the stirge that the guard just knocked away with his arbalest turns and decides to try its luck with a new host, and so the halfling once again as three hungry stirges chasing after her.
The good news is that as the stirge chases after her, the guardsman hefts his arbalest again and tries to smash it down on the thing as it flaps away from him.
There is a meaty  crunch  as the butt of the crossbow connects with the stirge a second time, now with the guardsman's full power behind it and the stirge belly flops down into the dust of the road, a moment later stomped and ground to pieces by the guardsman's armored boot.

Unfortunately, the other two stirges pursuing the halfling manage to land and suck out more of her blood, leaving her feeling a bit more light-headed than before. (sadly, her Rage cancels out the Shield bonus from the Allied  cloak  scarf, and so #6 just barely manages to hit both Tamara's touch and normal AC, which means both stirges immediately draw 1 Con each up into their bellies.

In what could be considered Pharasma smiling down upon those whose time had not yet come, the driver's desperate flailing manages to somehow dislodge the giant stirge's grip enough that it slips, toppling over onto the seat next to the driver and leaving him free (stupid Nat 1s!)

 
 Spoiler: Stirges 

Those attached continue to feed, although they do have to make grapple checks (at a hefty bonus) to maintain their "attached" status.  Failure to hit CMD means that your character reflexively shakes them off, and they have to start a whole new set of grapple/attach rolls on Round 3 to resume feeding.

Meanwhile, Stirge #6, #17, and #20 go after Tamara to attempt to start the attachment process.  As usual, they each provoke an AoO from the halfling, and #17 provokes from the guardsman #4 as it flies away from him, and he attempts to brain it with his heavy crossbow as an improvised club.  Since I didn't see an AoO from Tamara for the first set of AoOs the stirges provoked on Round 1, I'll use the provided AoO written in her actions for Round 2 to apply retroactively, which is a miss, and give her yet another roll for the AoO for *this* round.

Guardsman #4 AoO vs. Stirge #17 (-4 Improvised)
To-Hit:  (1d20+1)[ 19 ] 
Damage:  (1d6+3)[ 9 ] 

Stirge #6 Attach vs. Tamara (Touch)
To-Hit:  (1d20+8)[ 17 ] 
 Stirge #17 Attach vs. Tamara (Touch)   Stirge is DEAD from the Guardsman's AoO.
To-Hit:  (1d20+8)[ 28 ] 

Stirge #20 Attach vs. Tamara (Touch)
To-Hit:  (1d20+8)[ 20 ] 

Now to see which stirges stay attached and feed.  We'll assume those attached to the horses and oxen automatically succeed.
S3 vs. Guard #1
CMB:  (1d20+11)[ 26 ] 

S14 vs. Kristoph
CMB:  (1d20+11)[ 18 ] 

Giant Stirge vs. Driver
CMB:  (1d20+10)[ 11 ] 

S5 vs. Guard #2
CMB:  (1d20+11)[ 25 ] 

S18 vs. Guard #4
CMB:  (1d20+11)[ 21 ] 

S21 vs. Aaron
CMB:  (1d20+11)[ 22 ] 

S12 vs. Lo'sais
CMB:  (1d20+11)[ 17 ] 
 
Inspectre
 Round 3! 

Screaming and flailing at the giant stirge with one fist while clutching his gaping wound in his chest closed with his other hand, the driver twists and rolls off the seat, dropping down beside the carriage on the far side from Kristoph and making a run over to the door where he continues yelling and kicking at it while screaming for help.  Perhaps to Kristoph's pleasant surprise, a moment later he does hear the carriage door on that side click open, and Luramin grunting, "Gods man, what happened to you!?  Get in!"  The pleasant feeling in Kristoph's stomach probably returns back to concern, however, as the giant stirge looms up from the driver's seat and looks down over the side of the carriage to chitter-tweet at him, long beak still dripping blood.

 
 Spoiler: Driver &amp; Luramin 

Driver takes a full-round action to withdraw from melee with the Giant Stirge, leaving it sitting up on the driver seat of the carriage to look for its next meal.  As it is a Small creature and no longer Grappling, it does now threaten Kristoph's square.

Luramin opens the carriage door and then uses his Standard action to grab the driver and drag him into the carriage.  The door remains hanging open for this round.
 


The guards continue their struggle against the stirges, the guard that rolled off Luramin's carriage continuing to wrestle with the stirge attached to his neck, while the guardsman up on the supply wagon with a stirge still attached to him does his best to sit still while his fellow guard waves a dagger in his general direction trying to cut the stirge off him, and the last guard seeing the success of his arbalest-turned-club attempts to repeat the same with the other stirge still attached to him.

The guard by Luramin's carriage pulls the stirge off of him as it struggles and trills in his grip, while the guard atop the supply wagon once again proves to be a surgeon with his blade, splitting the other stirge in two, and the guard at the back of the wagon proves to be a better bludgeoner with his crossbow than a good shot with it as he smashes the other stirge off him and down into the dirt.

 
 Spoiler: Guards 

Guard #1 attempts to wrestle the stirge off him.
CMB:  (1d20+5)[ 18 ] 
Success: Guard #1 is now controlling the grapple with the stirge.

Guard #2 continues to keep the supply wagon horses calm.

Guard #3 stabs the stirge on Guard #2 (S5)
To-Hit:  (1d20+5)[ 18 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 6 ] 

Guard #4 clubs the stirge still on him with his crossbow (S18)
To-Hit:  (1d20+1)[ 20 ] 
Damage:  (1d6+3)[ 7 ] 
 


The carriage door of Adivon's magical carriage on Tamara's side swings open and the professor pops his head back out, sending more silvery bolts flying at the pests continue to harass his new friend, causing them both to explode in a shower of blood.

"When you are done there, I believe that Mister Eldaval (Aaron) is still in need of your assistance!"

 
 Spoiler: Adivon 

5' shift over to the north side of his carriage
Move Action: Open the north door
Standard: Magic missiles on #6 &amp; #20 (if both are still alive after Tamara's new AoO on them, otherwise will hit the next nearest one he can see on the north side of the convoy.

vs. #6
 (2d4+2)[ 8 ] 

vs. #20
Damage:  (2d4+2)[ 9 ] 
 


At the back of the convoy, Zellara looks back at the beleaguered Lo'sais and his swarmed oxen and sighs.

"I know you won't agree, but I need you to take the reins.  I've got somewhere else to be."

She says to the cowled figure still looming in the doorway of their wagon, winks at Elian, and then slides down off the side of the wagon to walk back towards Lo'sais cart.
As she moves back towards the cart, it's clear that whatever was dissuading the stirges from approaching her wagon is centered on her as the stirges roil and release their grip with an awkward squeak as they take wing and begin to rapidly flap away from Lo'sais cart . . . and begin looking in the direction of Elian and Zellara's traveling companion.

 
 Spoiler: Zellara and the Trader 

Trader takes the reins of the covered wagon, as Zellara dismounts the wagon and moves 20' back towards Lo'sais.
 


(OOC: The stirges all immediately release their grip on the oxen and Lo'sais as a free action.  They are still in their current squares on the map, but for planning purposes I have marked in orange where they will be moving to get at least 20' away from Zellara on their next initiative at the end of Round 3.  So if you want to ready an attack to blast them while they're away from Lo'sais and the oxen, go for it.  They'll hang out in those squares for the PCs' Round 4, and then on their Round 4 turn they'll be heading around Zellara to go after Elian and the Trader - and his pet monkey too!)

Back around to the party!

 Battle Map 
 
 Spoiler: Status 

Party
Kristoph: -2 Con, 1 Stirge Attached
Tamara: -3 Con
Aaron: -3 Con, 1 Stirge Attached
Lo'sais: -2 Con

Allies
Driver: 1 Damage, -2 Con

Guard 1: -1 Con, Grappling Stirge
Guard 2: -1 Con
Guard 3: -1 Con
Guard 4: -2 Con


Baddies
Giant Stirge - 2 Blood

Stirge 1 - 2 Blood
Stirge 2 - DEAD
Stirge 3 - 1 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 4 - 2 Blood
Stirge 5 - DEAD
Stirge 6 - DEAD
Stirge 7 - 2 Blood
Stirge 8 - DEAD
Stirge 9 - DEAD
Stirge 10 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 11 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 12 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 13 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 14 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 15 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 16 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 17 - DEAD
Stirge 18 - DEAD
Stirge 19 - DEAD
Stirge 20 - DEAD
Stirge 21 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 22 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 23 - 2 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 24 - 2 Blood (Attached)
 
Gyrfalcon
It was fascinating how the stirge was ballooning with its stolen essence as it feasted on Aaron's blood - in fact, to his knowledge, there wasn't even a vein where its proboscis was attached. No doubt some innately magical feature that would be diverting to research if it wasn't  his blood filling the monstrosity.  A wave of dizziness from his blood loss had made his first attempt to grasp the creature with his enchanted hand to fail. Shaking his head, the scholar attempted again to strike the horrible little monster.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics and Status 

 Chill Touch - Touch Attack vs Stirge 21  -  (1d20)[ 19 ] 
 Chill Touch - Damage  -  (1d6)[ 6 ]  - On hit, Fort check, 1 Str damage on fail

HP 6/6 | AC 15 (Touch 11)
Active Effects: Mage Armor (+4 AC, 1h), Chill Touch (1 attack), Bardic Inspiration (+1 to hit, vs fear)
 
Triskavanski
The human grit his teeth. Trying to blast things was a lot different in the middle of combat than it was in training. Again he made the signs, and tried to splash another stirg with an acid splash. Even if he had prepared cones and the like, he'd only be damaging their own horses. He'll need to make up for the lack of preparedness next time.

 
 Spoiler 

attacking S23  (1d20-1)[ 10 ] 
 (1d20-1)[ 5 ]  if crit
 (1d3)[ 2 ] 
 
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Spoiler: Kristoph's Status, Round 3 
   Kristoph Harrisson   
Male Lawful Good Half-Elf Paladin 1,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   12 /13,  Speed  20 ft (30 ft. Base)
 AC  19,  Touch  11,  Flat-footed  18,  CMD  14,  Fort  4,  Ref  1,  Will  1,  CMB  +3,  Base Attack Bonus  1,    Action Points  3
 Falcata (18 GP)   +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x3)
 Breastplate (200 GP) ,    Heavy Steel Shield (20 GP)  (+6 Armor, +2 Shield, +1 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 12, Con  14   12 , Int 12, Wis 9, Cha 17
 Condition  Smite Evil (0/1 Used)
 

Keeping one hand on the reins, Kristoph calls out, " I've got the horses! Get the stirges off! And when you can, help me up here - the big one's looking hungry! " Then he takes his sharply curved blade and strikes at the giant stirge, continuing to ignore the one attached to him for now.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Move action to control the horses and bring them to a halt. Standard action to attack the giant stirge: Falcata  (1d20+3)[ 18 ]  to hit,  (1d20+3)[ 19 ]  (19-20/x3),  (1d8+2)[ 5 ]  slashing damage,  (2d8+4)[ 17 ]  critical strike damage.
 
SanguinePenguin
This battle has been going poorly, were it not for Adivon’s assistance, Tamara would be in quite the dire position.  It feels almost like she has run out of…  luck .  It hits her all at once, and she cries out to the goddess,  “O Desna!  You aren’t mad about the carriage, are you?   Magic horses !  That’s basically catnip for me!  What was I supposed to do?!  Plus Adivon is a wonderful person!  Please don’t hold this against me!  You know you'll always be my fav deity!” 

Adivon ducks back into the carriage again after bailing her our, and she shouts,  ”thanks again, Adivon!  Aaron looks okay, so I’ll go help up front!” 

She moves into range of the horses to help the poor beasts.  With the creatures lodged into the horses they make better targets, and the halfling strikes again with aid of the scarf.  She beckons them to encroach and sets up a second attack.

 
 Spoiler: Actions - Round 2 
Move to I11
Attack K12:   (1d20+9)[ 19 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 10 ] 
CC (27+):   (1d20+9)[ 21 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 16 ] 

AoO Attack vs first to provoke:   (1d20+7)[ 14 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 12 ] 
CC (25+):   (1d20+7)[ 25 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 7 ] 
 
 Spoiler: Tamara - Round 3 

   Tamara Whittlecrop Brockhouse   
F CG Halfling Barbarian,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP  11/13,  Speed  30
 AC  19,  Touch  14,  Flat-footed  14,  CMD  15,  Fort  4,  Ref  4,  Will  0 (4 fear),  CMB  +2,  Base Attack Bonus  1
   Greatsword   +4 (1d10+3, 19-20/x2)
   Chakram (5)   +5 (1d6+2, x2)
 brace, reach, sunder Lucerne hammer   +4 (1d10+3, x2)
   Studded Leather  (+3 Armor, +3 Dex, +1 Size, +2 scarf)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 16, Con  12  9, Int 13, Wis 8, Cha 14
 Condition  Allied cloak 6/8
Con -3
Rage 4/5
Bardic performance

 

 
Farmerbink
Elian turns to lob the alchemist's fire, and quickly rethinks the proposition for Zellara's (oddly effective) intrusion.  Instead, he clambers down, and readies his rapier, continuing to sing the whole way.


  +1 to-hit and on saves against fear!  
 
 Spoiler: Elian, round 3 
   Elian Evenstarr   
M NG Dhampir Dirge Bard,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   / ,  Speed 
 AC  15,  Touch  13,  Flat-footed  12,  CMD  13,  Fort  0,  Ref  5,  Will  4,  CMB  0,  Base Attack Bonus  0
  Short Bow (20 common arrows)   +3 (1d6, x3)
  Rapier   +0 (1d6, 18-20, x2)
  Dagger   +0/+3 (1d4, 19-20, x2)
  Leather  (+2 Armor, +3 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 10, Dex 16, Con 8, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 18
 Condition  Bardic performance: 5/7 rounds remaining

move as close to O/27 as possible
ready the rapier
 
Inspectre
The battle begins to swing decidedly against the stirges as Aaron finally manages to lay a hand on the stirge feeding on him, causing it to literally shrivel and wither before flopping off his shoulder onto the dust of the road.
On the other side of Adivon's carriage, Tamara charges forward with a prayer to her goddess on her lips, and it seems Desna is listening as her weapon finally draws blood, and quite a lot of it as the stirge she hits pops like a bloody balloon.
At the back of the caravan, the carpet of feathers covering Lo'sais's oxen roils and takes flight, leaving their owner free to take several swings at the stirge that had been feeding on him with his dagger.

 
 Spoiler: Lo'sais 

Acting for Sarone, Lo'sais will continue trying to stab at the stirge that had been feeding on him, as well as taking an AoO when it moves away this turn.
To-Hit:  (1d20-5)[ -1 ] 
Damage:  (1d4-1)[ 0 ] 

AoO:
To-Hit:  (1d20-5)[ 0 ] 
Damage:  (1d4-1)[ 0 ] 
 


Despite the stirges at the back of the caravan taking flight and seeming to flee at Zellara's approach, the ones at the front of the caravan continue their feast.
Well, all except for the one only a couple of feet along the flank of the horse away from the stirge Tamara just cleaved in twain - that particular stirge gives an alarmed trill and releases its grip on the horse to take flight and flee - only to fly right into the path of Tamara's backswing as she chops it in half.

"Damn!"  The guard holding onto the reins of the supply wagon grunts appreciably upon witnessing this rampage by the halfling adventurer.

The other two stirges on the far side of the wagon from the halfling butcher continue their feast undeterred.

At the very front of the caravan, the attached stirges on Kristoph and the horses continue to feed, while the one now finding itself grabbed by the guard it had been feasting upon squirms desperately in the man's grip with an alarmed trill.
It seems unlikely that the hand-sized bird-quito would be able to escape, but a flailing wing slapping into the man's face startles him into releasing his grip.
It's panicked trill now taking on an angrier tone, the stirge flaps off into the woods, making good on its escape.

The paladin's blade chops into the side of the massive stirge clambering around on top of the carriage, the blade stopped from cutting all the way through it but earning a trickle of blood from where it hit.
In response the massive stirge clambered down the side of the carriage and leaped down at the paladin with an angry buzzing of its wings, attempting to repeat what it had done to the driver to the admittedly much more heavily armored warrior.
As while it is a near thing, Kristoph's armor holds as the stirge's beak scrapes off his armor, almost finding purchase, but ultimately failing to do so.

 
 Spoiler: Stirges 

Attached stirges continue feeding.  The stirges on Lo'sais and his oxen release their grip and flee, moving to their new positions on the map.

Stirge #15 releases its grip and attempts to flee - sadly it's intelligence score is probably not sufficient to do so as a Withdrawal action, so it provokes from Tamara and gets wrecked.

Stirge #3 feebly attempts to escape Guard #1's grasp.
CMB:  (1d20+3)[ 17 ] 
 

 
 Spoiler: Giant Stirge 

The giant stirge attempts to bite and grab Kristoph.
To-Hit:  (1d20+9)[ 18 ] 
Damage:  (1d4-1)[ 0 ] 
On hit, Grab:  (1d20+6)[ 13 ] 
 
Inspectre
With most of the stirges dead or driven off, the caravan's guards move back onto offense.

Muttering curses under his breath after watching the stirge flee into the forest, Luramin's carriage guard pulls out a dagger and attempts to cut one of its fellows off of the horse's flank.  As a sign of the man's continued bad luck, he only manages to leave a long gash down the back of the stirge rather than cut it off the horse completely.
At the supply wagon, the dagger-armed guard descends and likewise tries to cut off one of the stirges on the far side from Tamara, while the driver guard wraps the reins around his arm and reaches down to pull up the heavy crossbow resting at his own feet.
Already loaded, the guard takes careful aim for a moment at Luramin's carriage, and then fires at the giant stirge still clinging to the top of it, taking care not to accidentally hit Kristoph.  The bolt accurately punches through one of the giant stirge's wings, causing some damage but ultimately a minimal amount of it given the beast had four such wings.
Finally at the back of the supply wagon, the guard begins the laborious process of reloading his crossbow now that he no longer needed it as a makeshift club.

 
 Spoiler: Guards 

Guard #1, moves up and draws a dagger, and stabs Stirge #13
To-Hit:  (1d20+5)[ 21 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 4 ] 

Guard #2, picks up heavy crossbow, and fires at the Giant Stirge (-4 penalty as it's in melee with Kristoph)
To-Hit:  (1d20)[ 16 ] 
Damage:  (1d10)[ 3 ] 

Guard #3, drops down off the carriage and cuts at Stirge #7
To-Hit:  (1d20+5)[ 15 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 7 ] 

Guard #4, reloads heavy crossbow, 5' steps to the southeast
 


His part in this battle apparently over, Adivon does not emerge from his carriage again after snapping the door shut once more.

Further back, the Zellara's odd traveling companion mutters something foul under his breath as he continues to hold the reins.

 
 Spoiler: Sorin &amp; Elian 

You don't understand the language being spoken, but it certainly sounds particularly harsh and foul - Zellara's companion clearly is not happy being left sitting there keeping the horses from panicking.
 


Seeing the stirges flocking to either side of the caravan, Zellara considers her options, and then nods and takes a deliberate step forward across in front of Lo'sais oxen, driving the stirges on his side further away.

(Zellara moves to J32, prompting those stirges to flee on their next round into the forest.)

 Battle Map 
 
 Spoiler: Status 

Party
Kristoph: -3 Con, 1 Stirge Attached
Tamara: -3 Con
Aaron: -3 Con
Lo'sais: -2 Con

Allies
Driver: 1 Damage, -2 Con

Guard 1: -1 Con
Guard 2: -1 Con
Guard 3: -1 Con
Guard 4: -2 Con


Baddies
Giant Stirge - 2 Blood, 8 Damage

Stirge 1 - 3 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 2 - DEAD
Stirge 3 - 1 Blood, Fleeing
Stirge 4 - DEAD
Stirge 5 - DEAD
Stirge 6 - DEAD
Stirge 7 - DEAD
Stirge 8 - DEAD
Stirge 9 - DEAD
Stirge 10 - 2 Blood
Stirge 11 - 2 Blood
Stirge 12 - 2 Blood
Stirge 13 - 3 Blood (Attached), 4 Damage
Stirge 14 - 3 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 15 - DEAD
Stirge 16 - 3 Blood (Attached)
Stirge 17 - DEAD
Stirge 18 - DEAD
Stirge 19 - DEAD
Stirge 20 - DEAD
Stirge 21 - DEAD
Stirge 22 - 2 Blood
Stirge 23 - 2 Blood
Stirge 24 - 2 Blood
 
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Spoiler: Kristoph's Status, Round 4 
   Kristoph Harrisson   
Male Lawful Good Half-Elf Paladin 1,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   11 /13,  Speed  20 ft (30 ft. Base)
 AC  19,  Touch  11,  Flat-footed  18,  CMD  14,  Fort  4,  Ref  1,  Will  1,  CMB  +3,  Base Attack Bonus  1,    Action Points  3
 Falcata  +3 (1d8+2, 19-20/x3)
 Breastplate ,    Heavy Steel Shield (20 GP)  (+6 Armor, +2 Shield, +1 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 12, Con  14   11 , Int 12, Wis 9, Cha 17
 Condition  Smite Evil (0/1 Used)
 

" Can anyone see bandits in the trees? Did someone sick their pet stirges on us or is this a natural swarm? " calls Kristoph as he swings his sword at the mutant, giant stirge again.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Move action to keep the horses calm and stopped. Standard action to attack the giant stirge: Falcata  (1d20+3)[ 10 ]  to hit,  (1d20+3)[ 5 ]  (19-20/x3),  (1d8+2)[ 5 ]  slashing damage,  (2d8+4)[ 15 ]  critical strike damage.
 
Gyrfalcon
With the horrific parasites removed from his body, Aaron takes a moment to catch his breath and take stock of the situation.  Most of the stirges in the center of the caravan look to be cleared away, but there are still plenty at the front and back, though the ones in the back look to be fleeing already.

Raising his voice, he shouts out some advice  ”I only see stirges, but fire will help drive them off - they’re as afraid of it as any other creature!” 

Taking a few steps away from the carriage, he glances between the front and back, before raising his crossbow and taking a shot at one of the stirges fleeing into the treeline at the back of the caravan.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics and Status 

Move - 2 squares south
Action - Fire Light Crossbow at Stirge 11

 Light Crossbow - Attack Roll vs Stirge 11  -  (1d20+2)[ 11 ] 
 Damage  -  (1d8)[ 5 ] 
 Crit Confirmation  -  (1d20+2)[ 8 ] 
 Extra Crit Damage  - + (1d8)[ 5 ] 

HP 6/6 | AC 15 (Touch 11)
Active Effects: Mage Armor (+4 AC, 1h), Bardic Inspiration (+1 to hit, vs fear)
 
Triskavanski
Sorin frowns at the fowl language, while scanning the tree lines for more threats, he takes a pot shot at a fleeing stirge to try and help keep down the stirge population

 
 Spoiler 

stirge 11

 (1d20+3)[ 15 ] 

if crit [roll] 1d20+3[/roll]

 (1d3)[ 3 ] 
acid splash
 
Farmerbink
The lithe man charges backwards down the line of wagons.

  +1 to-hit and on saves against fear!  
 
 Spoiler: Elian, round 3 
   Elian Evenstarr   
M NG Dhampir Dirge Bard,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP   / ,  Speed 
 AC  15,  Touch  13,  Flat-footed  12,  CMD  13,  Fort  0,  Ref  5,  Will  4,  CMB  0,  Base Attack Bonus  0
  Short Bow (20 common arrows)   +3 (1d6, x3)
  Rapier   +0 (1d6, 18-20, x2)
  Dagger   +0/+3 (1d4, 19-20, x2)
  Leather  (+2 Armor, +3 Dex)
 Abilities  Str 10, Dex 16, Con 8, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 18
 Condition  Bardic performance: 4/7 rounds remaining

move to P/31
Attack Q/32
Rapier:  (1d20+1)[ 16 ] 
crit confirm:  (1d20+1)[ 10 ]  (applies on nat 18+)
damage:  (1d6+1)[ 3 ] 
crit bonus:  (1d6+1)[ 3 ] 
 
SanguinePenguin
Tamara, happy that Desna seemed to have forgiven her minor slight, charges forward at the giant stirge.  A wild grin spreads across her face as she leaps into the fray with Kristoph.

 
 Spoiler: Actions - Round 4 
Charge to K6
Attack Giant stirge:   (1d20+11)[ 13 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 11 ] 
CC (30+):   (1d20+11)[ 27 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 7 ] 

AoO Attack vs first to provoke:   (1d20+7)[ 16 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 14 ] 
CC (25+):   (1d20+7)[ 24 ]  Damage:  (1d10+6)[ 11 ] 
 
 Spoiler: Tamara - Round 4 

   Tamara Whittlecrop Brockhouse   
F CG Halfling Barbarian,  Level  1,  Init  3,  HP  11/13,  Speed  30
 AC  19,  Touch  14,  Flat-footed  14,  CMD  15,  Fort  4,  Ref  4,  Will  0 (4 fear),  CMB  +2,  Base Attack Bonus  1
   Greatsword   +4 (1d10+3, 19-20/x2)
   Chakram (5)   +5 (1d6+2, x2)
 brace, reach, sunder Lucerne hammer   +4 (1d10+3, x2)
   Studded Leather  (+3 Armor, +3 Dex, +1 Size, +2 scarf)
 Abilities  Str 14, Dex 16, Con  12  9, Int 13, Wis 8, Cha 14
 Condition  Allied cloak 4/8
Con -3
Rage 3/5
Bardic performance

 

 
Inspectre
Determined not to give the stirges at the back of the caravan time to regroup, Aaron, Sorrin, and Elian team up against the nearest stirge flapping about above the road in confusion.
Aaron's bolt goes wide, but Sorrin's globule of acid splashes across its wings, slowing it just enough for Elian to charge forward and drive his rapier through its midsection, skewering it neatly.

(Fun fact!  Charge in 3.5 gives +1 to-hit, but it's +2 in Pathfinder, so Elian's charge attack just barely hits! 😁 )

Kristoph and Tamara each take swings at the giant stirge, but it manages to elude them by backing up more fully onto the top of the carriage, nearly breaking line of sight completely.

Lo'sais merely gives a tired wave of his spear at the stirges as they flee, driven back into the woods by Zellara's presence.

The guards attempt to remove the remaining stirges from their horses, while the last guard comes around the front of Adivion's summoned carriage and gives more incentive for the stirges still buzzing near Elian to disperse.

 
 Spoiler: Guards 

Guard #1 stabs Stirge #13
To-Hit:  (1d20+5)[ 14 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 4 ] 

Guard #2 - reloads heavy crossbow

Guard #3 stabs Stirge 16
To-Hit:  (1d20+5)[ 25 ] 
Damage:  (1d4+3)[ 6 ] 

Guard #4 5' steps to the south again, and shoots at Stirge #23
To-Hit:  (1d20+4)[ 5 ] 
Damage:  (1d10)[ 1 ] 
 

 
 Spoiler: Status 

Party
Kristoph: -4 Con
Tamara: -3 Con
Aaron: -3 Con
Lo'sais: -2 Con

Allies
Driver: 1 Damage, -2 Con

Guard 1: -1 Con
Guard 2: -1 Con
Guard 3: -1 Con
Guard 4: -2 Con


Baddies
Giant Stirge - 2 Blood, 8 Damage

Stirge 1 - 4 Blood
Stirge 2 - DEAD
Stirge 3 - 1 Blood, Fleeing
Stirge 4 - DEAD
Stirge 5 - DEAD
Stirge 6 - DEAD
Stirge 7 - DEAD
Stirge 8 - DEAD
Stirge 9 - DEAD
Stirge 10 - 2 Blood
Stirge 11 - DEAD
Stirge 12 - 2 Blood
Stirge 13 - 4 Blood, 4 Damage
Stirge 14 - 4 Blood
Stirge 15 - DEAD
Stirge 16 - DEAD
Stirge 17 - DEAD
Stirge 18 - DEAD
Stirge 19 - DEAD
Stirge 20 - DEAD
Stirge 21 - DEAD
Stirge 22 - 2 Blood
Stirge 23 - 2 Blood
Stirge 24 - 2 Blood
 
Inspectre
The eerie flute music that has been playing throughout this brief but savage attack of stirges fades to silence.  And just like that, the battle was over.

With their bellies swollen to capacity with blood, the stirges detach from Kristoph and the two horses pulling Luramin's carriage and lazily flap off into the forest.  (Tamara and Kristoph may make an Attack of Opportunity against the stirge that was on Kristoph as it flies off if they so desire to kill it out of spite. 😉 )  The stirges buzzing around at the back of the caravan, rather than finding somewhere else to go and feed than Lo'sais's oxen, instead choose to flap back into the forest as well.  The massive stirge shows an iota of more intelligence than its smaller fellows as it continues to retreat backwards along the top of Luramin's carriage, and then takes flight off the far side of the carriage from Kristoph and Tamara, veering around the guard still angrily flailing his dagger at the stirge that had been feeding on the horse next to him. (the giant stirge, having some intelligence, withdraws instead of just moving, and goes into the forest to the south).

Still grumbling under his breath, the guard near Luramin's carriage eventually comes around the side of the carriage, wiping his dagger clean before sheathing it, and takes the reins out of Kristoph's hands.

"Thanks for the help with keeping the horses calm.  Dunno what would have happened if they had taken off with Luramin still in the carriage, but I doubt it'd have ended well.  Damn stirges are always a nuisance around this time of year, but this is the largest batch I've seen in years.  Never heard anyone trying to use them to attack before, they seem too stupid for training, but . . ."

The guard shakes his head as he pulls himself back up onto the carriage, as one of the carriage's doors swings open to allow Luramin and the driver, now with his shoulder crudely bandaged, to step out.  If the guard was going to say anything more at this point, he keeps his mouth shut as Luramin runs up to Kristoph, grabbing one of the paladin's hands to shake vigorously in both of his.

 "Thank you, thank you very much for your aid young man!  Without you around, something terrible might have happened indeed!  It is good to know that even when  some  people can't be counted on to do their jobs properly, you are willing to step up!  I'd like to reward you for your bravery, but um . . . I'm a little short on coin at the moment, at least until I start selling some of these goods I'm bringing back to town.  Hrm . . . oh, I know!  You'll need lodgings during your stay in Ravengro, right?  Well you just tell Sarianna when you get to the inn that Luramin owes you a favor, and that I'll be covering the cost for the duration of your stay . . . you aren't planning on staying in Ravengro more than a week, right?" 

***********************

Traveling back to Adivon's magical carriage, Tamara and Aaron find the professor sitting back in his usual spot, a thick tome titled "Legacy of Blood: A Genealogy of Ustalav's Greatest Heroes and Villains" cracked open on his lap.  He nods at the two of you.

 "I trust the caravan is once again safe, then?  I see that the little bandits who waylaid us have left their marks on each of you.  Sadly, I do not have the capacity to restore your drained vitality, although given these appeared to be the common Northern Ustalavi Stirge, you should make a full recovery on your own in a couple of days." 

Adivon snaps his book shut and tucks it back into a pocket of the rune-etched satchel sitting on the seat next to him.

 "Well then, shall we be on our way again?" 

The professor looks pointedly at Tamara until its clear that he is expecting his scarf back, which he examines with a critical eye and gives a quiet, annoyed "tsk" when he sees a few spots of Tamara's blood have dripped onto the fabric.

 "Ah well, a few bloodstains is to be expected, I suppose.  Hopefully it was at least of some use to you." 

The professor notes coolly, before he breaths out a simple enchantment, and the bloodstains break up into dust and fall away from the scarf, leaving it intact once more.

 "There, good as new." 
 
 Spoiler: Spellcraft DC 15 

Adivon casts Prestidigitation, cleaning his scarf of the bloodstains
 


********************************

Zellara meets Sorin and Elian back at her carriage, climbing up and taking the reins from her robed traveling companion who wordlessly steps back inside their wagon.

 "Well then, that was certainly exciting, wasn't it?" 

She says with a slight smile to the two as they hop back up onto the wagon as the caravan makes ready to set out again.

 "I am glad that no one got seriously hurt, although I imagine those stirge bites will itch for a few days.  Nothing I can do for those, unfortunately.  I would like to offer you something for your aid today, although I'm afraid neither of us has much to give.  Ah, but perhaps you would be interested in a Harrow reading?  I have some talent in reading the cards, although doing so on top of a moving wagon is less than ideal!  My friend and I are intending on setting up camp just outside town, as we're more used to sleeping in our wagon than at an inn at this point.  Perhaps you and any of the others traveling with us would be interested in having a reading if you stop by our camp later?  We should be here for a few days, at least." 
DarkOne-Rob
Kristoph shakes Luramin's hand back firmly but with less overt enthusiasm than the greedy merchant demonstrates. " Your men did well, sir. This attack was unusual and would leave even the bravest man shaken. Don't be too hard on them, for  my  sake, " he says with a smile to both the guards and their employer. " And thank you for your hospitality - I accept, at least for now. I do not know how long I will be staying, as I have business with Professor Lorrimor. If it is longer than a week I will either pay for my stay or seek lodging elsewhere. It wouldn't do to wear out my welcome! " Kristoph exclaims with a laugh and strong hand on Luramin's shoulder.

Looking around at the caravan, Kristoph takes a moment to offer prayer of thanks to Pharasma. "   If anyone else wishes to thank the Mother of Souls for our safe battle this day I will be glad to lead. Gather around, please, then we can get moving again!   " he calls out, inviting everyone to a spot just to the front of the middle of the wagon train. Once everyone interested has come and made an arc he begins by drawing a ceremonial dagger and using it to trace the spiral of Pharasma over the assembled group. "  Lady of Graves, mysteries, and keeper of the Boneyard, we thank you this day that we can say, ' Not this year, not yet ,' after this attack. When it is time we will see your face, as all must. For now we take joy in another opportunity to enjoy the cycles of this season and drink of the waters of life. Bless the rest of our journey and those around us,  " he ends silently making the sign of Pharasma's spiral on his breast, tracing the bright blue spiral on his overcoat and raising his head to look at the caravan.

"   Excellent, let's get back to going!   " he calls out as he makes his way back up to the front and gets ready to tirelessly walk beside the lead wagon (until/unless Luramin invites him to sit).
Inspectre
Kristoph is doubtlessly pleased to see that nearly everyone in the caravan (PCs excepted, you can make your own choices whether to join in or not, although Pharasma is probably the most common deity in Ustalav) steps forward to join Kristoph in his prayer of thanks – even Adivon begrudgingly steps out of his carriage to bow his head (although the professor keeps his distance and remains near to his magical carriage).  Following the prayer, there is another minute or two of checking on the horses, helping Luramin's driver get back up into his set, and cleaning up from the mess that the stirges left behind, and then the caravan sets out once more.  This time, Luramin offers Kristoph a seat in the carriage without further question of payment, although he does warn the paladin to mind the blood spot on the seat where the driver had collapsed after being attacked.

It turns out that you really didn't have far to go at all, as after rounding the next bend in the road, the forest thins out a bit to reveal a few scattered farms that the road winds past, and then beyond them, the compact cluster of buildings that is the town of Ravengro.

 Music Theme 

The road that you are presently on approaches Ravengro from the north, roughly parallel to the wide but slow-flowing river that cuts the modest town of several dozen buildings in half.  Most of these are one or two story wooden homes although on your current side of the river, the west bank, there sits a sizable church made of stone. Beyond the back of the church is a sizable graveyard, fenced off from the rest of the area by chest-high stone walls although these seem more to mark the boundaries of the graveyard than for security.

Situated around the church at a respectful distance are several houses that could be deemed the “affluent” section of Ravengro, as they are larger than the others clustered across the river and one is even three stories high.  That being said, they are still constructed out of the same drab wood as the other buildings and have the same weathered air as the rest of the town – which one could describe the town as not  sleepy , but  tired .

Passage over the river is provided by two rickety covered wooden bridges at the north and south end of town, and it is on the east bank of the river that the majority of buildings squat in a rough circle.  Ravengro does indeed have a town square of sorts, in the form of a muddy circle of roads surrounding an old gazebo perched on a grassy bump (rather than hill) in the middle.  Lining this circle like spokes from a wheel are the vast majority of buildings in the town, most of which have faded signs hanging above the front that indicate the local blacksmith, apothecary, inn and the like.

The road continues south out from this circle of buildings past a dozen or so more homes, and then winds its way back into the woods beyond Ravengro.  Most likely, this road eventually terminates in the foreboding black stone building that squats on a hilltop several miles further south outside of town, and which is just visible over the tops of the trees.

As your caravan nears the town proper and starts to pass the graveyard, Zellara guides her horses off of the road and turns to Sorin and Elian.

 “I think this is where we will set up for the evening, just outside of town and at a respectful distance away from this place of eternal rest.  I imagine that you will be much more comfortable at the local inn than on the ground out of here, and I’m afraid our wagon only has enough room for myself and my traveling companion.  So I guess this is where we shall part ways for now.  Pharasma guide your path.” 

Zellara says to both Elian and Sorin.  Her mysterious traveling companion does not even bother to poke his head out the door to speak his own farewells.

The caravan continues on its way across the northern bridge, passing by a large log driven upright into the ground beside the road just beyond the bridge.  A teenaged boy balances precariously on top of a stool next to the log, attaching a finger-long slip of paper to the side of the log by hammering a tack into place.

Before reaching the town square, the caravan is forced to briefly come to a halt in front of a modest building with a faded sign depicting a scroll unfurling itself hanging above the door.  The reason for the halt is the gaggle of half a dozen children bursting out of the front door of the building as the caravan approaches, running out into the street with a chorus of merry giggles.  An older man with more salt than pepper in his beard follows them out, yelling at them to clear out of the way and to stop playing in the street, which at least manages to get them out of the caravan’s way even if the children continue to merrily run along on their way.

 
 Spoiler: Perception DC 10 

As the man storms out of the building after the children, one final child, a very pale waif-like little girl of perhaps seven or eight, quietly slips out the door behind him.  Unlike the other children running off, she very solemnly and quietly walks off along the side of the street, head bowed as if deep in thought.  It’s probably a good thing that she is off to one side of the road and away from the caravan, as it does not look as if she has even noticed its existence at this point.
 


As the caravan makes its way into the muddy circle that marks the town square, Luramin’s carriage and wagon pull up in front of one of the first buildings on the eastern side of the circle, with the words “Taigh’s General Store” painted on the front in peeling black paint.  As Luramin is stepping down out of the carriage, the front door to the store bangs open and the merchant is immediately swarmed by three young girls.  It’s hard to tell if they’re shrieking “Daddy!” or “Candy!” – possibly both – but Luramin certainly seems to understand as he laughs and digs into the pocket of his vest to pull out a handful of small hard sweets, which he distributes one to each of the girls, as well as the two slightly older girls who came running from the gaggle of children still running down the road.

Luramin’s joyous return sours, however, when a moment later two women also step out of the shop.  The one is clearly the girls’ mother as she laughs and lightly scolds the five girls, telling them to give their father some space.  The other woman is a youthful looking half-elf, although there is a coldness in her eyes as she snaps shut her pocketwatch and slips it into the pocket of her silk blouse.

 “I was expecting you yesterday Luramin – you’re late.” 

She said by way of greeting, and Luramin’s frown deepens.

 “It couldn’t be helped.  The caravan left a day late, and given that we ran into some trouble on the way back, I’d say that waiting was probably the right decision, all in all.  Sorry about the seat cushion in your carriage, by the way – your driver bled all over it.” 
 “Godsdamnit!  Well, I suppose that’ll just be coming out of his wages, then.  As for you Luramin, as I was telling Marta here, now you’ve got twenty-nine days, and not a second more.”
 
 “What!?  I literally just got back with my stock!  We agreed thirty days from my return back in Ravengro!” 
 “And if you had read the contract, you’ll know it had an expected return date listed on it – yesterday.  Money doesn’t sleep Luramin – twenty-nine days from now, and not a second more.”
 
If Luramin was going to make any more arguments, they are interrupted by a loud bang from the supply wagon, as one of the guards who had been unloading the crates and sacks from the wagon onto the muddy street, slips and drops the crate he had been carrying onto the pile.

 “Hey, careful with that!  Wait, are you seriously just going to unload the crates here, in the middle of the street!?  You can’t even carry them inside!?”
 
 “And if you had read the contract, you would know that *my* wagon would deliver your goods to your shop.  Here is your shop – if you had wanted them to stock your shelves for you as well, you should have asked it to be included.”
 
The woman says smugly, nodding at  her  guards as they unload the last of the cargo and both carriage and supply wagon pull out further down the street, pulling into an alleyway between two buildings, one of which has a sign depicting a half-open bag of coins above its door.  The woman nods her head with a final self-satisfied smile at Luramin.

 “I will see you in twenty-nine days with your return on the principal of your loan, along with the promised interest.  Or I won’t, in which case I believe our contract stipulates the penalty.”
 
Luramin swears under his breath and angrily waves the woman off, his good mood from the childrens’ greeting gone.  As the half-elven woman struts off, the merchant sighs and walks over to the pile of boxes and sacks left in the mud, hefting the top one on the pile onto his shoulder.

 “Come on girls, help your old man out.  Marta, just need you to hold the front door open there.  Ah, Sir Kristoph!  Building next door here is the inn, just go talk to Sarianna and she’ll take good care of you.  Once you leave the square, keeping going south down the road, Lorrimor’s house is the second on your right.” 

While Luramin is having his drama out in front of his shop, Adivon has exited his carriage, and once Aaron and Tamara have disembarked, dismisses the entire construct with a wave of his hand.

 “Well . . . isn’t this a . . . quaint . . .little hamlet.” 

Adivon observes, looking down at his fine boots in the churned mud of Ravengro’s town square with some obvious distaste.  He forces a faint smile back onto his face as he turns to nod at his two traveling companions.

 “I believe this will be where we part ways, my young friends.  I’m going to go see what sort of rooms they have available at this inn next door, and then I suppose I shall see how old Petros is getting along here.”
 
(The party is currently standing just in front of the location marked “F” on the map, in the town circle on the east side of the river.)
 
 Spoiler: Ravengro Map 

 
 


(While I could leave things here with the party in the middle of Ravengro’s town square, since I imagine the first order of business for people will be going to see Petros Lorrimor, I’m just going to move along to that scene and assume all of our PCs just happen to head in that direction at the same time.  Which would be location “N” on the map above.)

***********

As described by Luramin, Petros Lorrimor’s residence is certainly not hard to find.  A modest two-story manor house sitting along the road running south out of town, the building matches the drab tired wooden buildings of the rest of Ravengro.  Although judging by the tattered condition of its roof and front porch, the house is perhaps a bit more heavily worn than even the decrepit buildings surrounding it.  Even so, a warm glow comes from within the house, although even the warm lights cannot dispel the chill that passes through the group as you get closer.  Something is definitely wrong here, as three horses stamp their hooves out in the street in front of the Lorrimor residence, two burly men in armor seated on two of them, one holding the reins of the third horse.  Before you can make any inquiries to the two men outside, the front door of the residence swings open, revealing a third weather-beaten man in a long leather duster over studded leather armor and a lovely young woman dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.  Catching sight of you, the weather-beaten man says a quiet good-bye to the woman, puts his equally-weathered hat back onto his head, and then walks out to confront all of you.

 “Pardon me, I’m Sheriff Benjan Caeller.  Afraid I haven’t seen any of you folks around here before now.  Are you here to see Petros Lorrimor?  Unfortunately, that makes me the bearer of the bad news for you.  Allow me to be the first to express my condolences, then, but Petros Lorrimor is dead.”
 
 
 Spoiler: Kendra Lorrimor 

 
 

 
 Spoiler: Sheriff Benjan Caeller 

 
 


(Also just realized I had never shown a picture for Professor Adivon, so here’s once for him as well!)
 
 Spoiler: Professor Adivon 

 
 

 
 Spoiler: Status 

Lingering Status from the Stirge fight:

Kristoph: -4 Con
Tamara: -3 Con
Aaron: -3 Con
Lo'sais: -2 Con
 
Gyrfalcon
 On the road 
When the man wearing the breastplate and overcoat with the spiral of Pharasma gathers the caravan for a prayer, Aaron willingly joins the circle, praying with a quiet intensity to the Mother of Graves and gloved hands grasped together tightly.

He joins Tamara and Professor Adivon in the professor’s magical carriage, feeling a bit dizzy from bloodloss. On seeing the tome, he blurts out a comment  ”Ah,  Legacy of Blood , truly a classic work. I wanted to thank you, Professor – your aid was invaluable with those blasted stirges.” 

In his dazed condition, he doesn’t manage to identify the specific chant the Professor uses, but the effects are clear as his scarf is cleaned. That reminds Aaron, and Tamara can perhaps notice the different methods that produce the same results as the apprentice murmurs a chant under his breath and traces a symbol in the air before touching the blood staining his clothes where the stirges had struck, the fluids fading away as if they never existed. The holes are another matter, and Aaron frowns to himself.  ”Blast, I’ll need to memorize [Mending] tonight.”  he mutters to himself.

 Entering Ravengro 

When the caravan stops, Aaron sticks his head out of the carriage to see what is going on and smiles a bit at the laughing gaggle of children. He hoists his backpack onto his back as he steps out of the magical carriage and nods in appreciation as Professor Adivon dismisses the magical construct.

Aaron adjusts his glasses and offers Professor Adivon his hand.  ”Good luck, Professor – though the town may be small, hopefully the inn has rooms for all of us.” 

Aaron starts down the street in the direction of Professor Lorrimor’s house, somewhat surprised to see that so many others are traveling with purpose in the same direction.

And then the sheriff breaks the news, and the blood drains from Aaron’s face. Combined with his blood loss from earlier, he stumbles a step and steadies himself with a hand on a wall.

 ”What…? The Professor is… How? When?”  he asks hoarsely.
DarkOne-Rob
Kristoph has a happy, zealous joy in his expression as the caravan gathers for his prayer. It's clear to anyone paying attention that he's passionate about his deity, though unusually pleasant and life-oriented for a worshipper of the Lady of Graves.

Once in town the Paladin doesn't just walk off, instead helping with the crates as best he is allowed. " I cannot help with your contract, but if you need anything I can provide, please let me know, " he offers as he puts down the last one. " You have a lovely family. I'll be back after I visit the Professor. "

 

At the sobering news Kristoph takes a knee, right in the muddy road, and bows his head. " Mother of Souls, we know that all who live must face her judgment. Be gentle with the Professor, as I know he was an honorable and good man, " he says, loudly enough for all nearby to hear, before rising with a grim expression. " Sheriff, how did he pass? Is there anyone at his home? "
SanguinePenguin
Tamara laughs as the stirge swarm retreats.   “You better run… err, fly… away… quickly!”   She brandishes her massive blade menacingly at the retreating insects.  Turning to Kristoph, she proclaims,  “it looks like injuries aren’t too severe.  That was fun!”   She looks at her three large puncture marks with a grin from ear to ear.  She happily joins in the prayer, even if it is to stuffy Pharasma, it is proper to honor the good deities, or at least good enough.

Back in the carriage with Adivon, she quickly turns over his scarf.
 “I am sorry about the mess!  Thank you very much for lending it, and for your timely missiles!  Boom!” 
She laughs as she mocks up an explosion with her hands reminiscent of how the stirge exploded.

Once in Ravengro, she first is awestruck by Adivon’s disappearing his carriage, but then she waves goodbye to him,  “thank you again, Professor Adivon, for both the ride and the aid of battle.  I’d be happy to return the favor sometime.”   If Adivon is a tenth as fun as Petros, then she genuinely looks forward to his cashing in a favor eventually.

Kendra looks… sorrowful relative to when Tamara had last seen her.  She is about to ask her what was wrong, when the Sheriff explains curtly.   “No!  That can’t be!  Oh, Kendra!  I am so sorry!”   Tamara’s incredulity stems largely from the larger than life persona she has built up in her own mind of the Professor.  Prone to daydreaming and a rather fanciful imagination, Tamara has storylines of her own fantastical adventures with the Professor etched into worldview, while she knows they are fiction, the seeds of them come from reality, and for Petros to die… disbelief and horror, wracked the halfling into a rare silence.
Farmerbink
 
 Originally Posted by Inspectre 
 Zellara meets Sorin and Elian back at her carriage, climbing up and taking the reins from her robed traveling companion who wordlessly steps back inside their wagon.

 "Well then, that was certainly exciting, wasn't it?"  
 

" Indeed, " Elian replies, lips curled into a wry smirk.  " Was that a  countersong?  " he asks, pointedly.  " It seems to have been  very  effective...  I fear I'm not much for quick-thinking when things get dangerous, I could have done the same for the front wagons, " he adds with a thoughtful frown.

" To your point, though, I'd love to take you up on a reading.  Somehow, it seems they're always more than just entertainment.... "  The lithe man looks up at Kristoph's request, and joins the group near Adivon with an expression of obvious disbelief.  He keeps his peace, perhaps concerned for the attention he may be drawing.

Several minutes later, Elian nods gratefully to Zellara.  " I appreciate the ride and the company, " he murmurs, reaching down to place a respectful kiss on the back of her hand.  " Given half a chance, I'll be out here to take you up on that reading! "  With a happy wave, he follows with the rest of the caravan as they rumble across the covered bridge.

He glances up curiously at the apparently acrobatic youth.  " Pray tell, what are you doing up there, young man? "  After only a moment, he adds " Seems there's got to be a... more reasonable way... " with an amused smile.

He eyes the hooded waif with concern, mentally marking her direction and path for later.  With an empathetic smirk for the struggling merchant and his family, Elian watches, surprised by the young paladin's eager aid.  As the last crate quietly  thuds  inside the shop, Elian dutifully joins the group headed towards the Lorrimor house.  He raises his left hand to his coat pocket, nervously rubbing the carefully folded paper within as he stares blankly towards the south- guided by simple gravity and largely unaware of the people walking alongside.'

He favors the mounted duo with a content, welcoming smile, breaking eye contact to glance at the 2-story facade behind them.  His smile wanes with concern as he takes in the wear and tear marking the residence.  His frown creeps to his eyes as he withdraws his hand from its den.  At Kendra's weeping face, he scowls, turning to the sheriff with  just  enough patience to let him describe the situation.

Finally, he blinks in surprise, his face a mask of impassive observance.
Inspectre
(Finishing up conversations from earlier)

 Tamara &amp; Aaron 

Adivon nods curtly at the thanks from you both.

 "I am glad that you are both - relatively - unharmed.  If you start feeling ill, however, I would recommend speaking to whoever passes as the local doctor when we get to Ravengro.  Some stirges are known to carry a variety of unpleasant maladies."
 

Fortunately, as it would turn out, Pharasma would smile upon each of you as no such sickness would later develop (i.e. no diseased stirges bit either of you).

Adivon is relatively withdrawn during the brief trip the rest of the way into Ravengro, but manages a smile when it is time to part ways.

 "Hopefully there will be enough room at the inn indeed, Mister Eldaval!  Best of luck in your endeavors as well." 

The professor nods a farewell to Tamara as well, his smile increasing a bit as he considers Tamara's offer.

 "I hope that someday I will be able to ask for such a favor, young lady.  Until then, try to stay safe." 
 Kristoph 

Luramin is surprised, but clearly grateful to get the help in moving the crates of supplies out of the muddy road and into the cramped but well-stocked interior of the shop, piling the crates up just inside the front door.  A quick glance at the shelves  set up inside reveals most of the stock are farming tools and building materials, although one dusty back corner holds adventuring supplies (such as torches, rope, arrows).  The centerpiece of that corner is a beautiful suit of full plate mail set up on a mannequin that unlike the rest of the supplies is free of any layer of dust.  The merchant smiles and nods at the suit of armor.

 "Marta's father was an officer in the army.  Unfortunately, that armor was all that got left to her as her inheritance.  Least she has something to remember him." 

He explains with a nod towards his wife, who is still trying to shepherd all five children back into the shop.
With Kristoph's help, all of the crates are quickly moved into the shop, and the merchant nods his thanks, frowning slightly at the mention of his business contract.

 "Wish I had never gotten involved with Quess Yearburn, but she and her partner are the only money-lenders in town.  They'll probably end up owning the whole damn town in a couple years, but there's nothing I can do about that now." 

The merchant sighs and shrugs.

 "As you said, it's my burden to bear.  Don't worry about me, you should hurry over to the inn and talk to Sarianna before everyone buys up all the rooms!" 
 Elian 
 "It was a countersong . . . of a sort." 

Zellara says evasively.

 "The music seemed to be drawing the stirges in, so I simply used a magical talent I picked up to do the reverse - convince the stirges to leave." 

The traveling fortune teller shrugs.

 "I suppose I could try to teach it to you, if you are interested in learning it, although it would take a bit of time." 

You then part ways with the fortune teller and her companion, and head into Ravengro.

At your call, the boy by the post teeters more precariously on the stool for a moment before he is able to steady himself, looking over his shoulder with a self-conscious grin.

"Posting the day's notices, sir!  I've got two more poles to update after this one!  Afraid this stool is the only thing I could find to give me the boost I need to reach the empty spots!  I'm Pevrin, by the way!"

Looking a little more closely, Elian can see a variety of weather-beaten bits of paper tacked to the pole elsewhere, with notices covering weddings, legal disputes, to auctions and the daily meals available at some place called "The Laughing Demon".  The notice that the boy is currently posting seems to be covering some sort of funeral to be held later tonight, although from this angle (and with young Pevrin in the way), Elian can't see much more of it.


 Everyone 

The sheriff purses his lips for a moment as he regards the group, clearly evaluating how much he should trust to this group of strangers.  He seems to come down on the side of being forthcoming, as he nods at the puffy-eyed young woman still standing in the doorway of Petros's surprisingly run-down house.

"Just his daughter, Kendra.  She reported him missing yesterday, said he had gone off to the Prison a few days ago and not been back since."

The sheriff notes the mostly blank stares from the group over mention of "the Prison", gives a quiet sigh and explains with a shake of his head at the "ignorant out-of-towners".

"Used to be a big prison outside Ravengro, called Harrowstone.  Place burned down during a riot decades ago, but the ruins are still there.  We keep those ruins locked up and off-limits to anyone without permission of the town council because they're unstable and dangerous.  But apparently that wasn't good enough for ol' Petros, because my deputies and I rode up there to investigate and found him lying outside the wall.  Damn fool had been trying to climb up the walls with a rope and grapple, and part of the statuary broke off the top and fell down on his head.  Just seemed to be bad luck on top of a bad idea, trying to get in there in the first place.  We brought his body back, and left it with Father Grimburrow to prepare for burial.  Body was in pretty bad shape between the statue smashing into it and lying out there for a couple days, so the Father wants the burial done quick as possible.  Funeral will be held tonight, just before sundown.  Just delivered the bad news to Kendra, and now I'm on my way to talk with the town council to see if there's anything else we can do to keep people away from the damned place - it's just not safe."

 
 Spoiler: Spellcraft DC 16 

Now that is just damned odd.  You don't have any particular reason to disbelieve what the sheriff said for finding Petros's body, but the old professor trying to climb up the walls with a rope certainly didn't make sense.  While the professor may have been reserving his higher-level spells for other purposes, you know from experience that he had access to spider-climb, a fairly low-level spell that would have been trivial for him to prepare prior to venturing up to the prison.  That would have rendered the wall an easily surmounted obstacle, and without the risks of attached a rope to apparently unstable pieces of masonry . . . so why did he?
 

 
 Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 15 

While the sheriff is trying to provide a fairly casual explanation of events, there is a nervous edge to his words, particularly when describing the Harrowstone prison.  He clearly thinks of the prison as dangerous, but more than just an unstable pile of rubble that can shift and fall on people's heads.  That's just a hazardous place, but the emphasis on "dangerous" suggests the sheriff sees the prison more as a threat than just a danger for the curious and clumsy.  And judging from his guarded stance around all of you newcomers to town, he will probably be less forthright about explaining why than he was on the Professor's fate.
 


While the sheriff explains the Professor's fate, Kendra hears Tamara's call and turns her head to look at the group.

"Tammy!?"

She calls to the group, clearly seeking confirmation that Tamara was amongst the group, and that she had heard her voice correctly.
For those who had not adventured with Professor Lorrimor in recent years or visited him in Ravengro before, the fact that he had a daughter at all should come as a surprise as he never really mentioned her in the course of the group's adventures.
For Tamara, she remembers Kendra as an awkward but lively young girl just entering her teenage years, not the elegant young woman stricken with deep sorrow standing in the doorway to Lorrimor's house.

Kendra steps out of the doorway and into the light, wincing immediately and blinking her eyes furiously as she digs in the pocket of her dress.  She produces a pair of dark glasses which she settles over her eyes, and then descends the stairs of the porch rapidly, skipping over the third step as she runs a hand down the stairs' rusted railing.  She rushes over to the group after reaching the bottom of the stairs, one hand held out in front of her, narrowly avoiding running straight on into the flank of one of the deputies' horses before he maneuvers the animal out of the way at the last second.  Now reaching the group, the tall young lady manages to find Tamara and kneels down in front of her, wrapping her arms around the somber halfling's neck and clinging on tight as she sobs into Tamara's shoulder.

 
 Spoiler: Tamara Only 

It's not clear whether or not Kendra is actually blind here, or just sensitive to light, but that's definitely new.  When you met her a few years ago when she was still a teenager, she could see perfectly well.
 


It's at about this point that Adivon walks up behind the group, evidentially having finished making his reservation at the Outward Inn.  And, apparently, he's here to see Petros Lorrimior as well.

 "What's going on here?  Where is Petros Lorrimor?" 
Gyrfalcon
Aaron's eyes narrow at the sheriff's description as he leans against the wall.

 "I'm sorry Sheriff, but that makes no sense. Professor Petros is... was getting on in his years, but he was also a powerful mage. I know for a fact that he knows a lesser spell called [Spider Climb] that he would use to climb over a wall as easy as walking, long before he'd try to haul himself up with a simple rope." 

Aaron takes his glasses off and polishes the lenses for a moment.  "But... can I pay my respects to the Professor with Miss Kendra's blessing? He was a friend, and I'd appreciate a moment alone before the funeral." 
DarkOne-Rob
With a whistle of appreciation Kristoph looks at the armor in the back of the shop. "  That  is a magnificent treasure, sir. I'm sorry to hear of your wife's loss, though. It's a poor trade, really...I'm sure his reward in the next life is noble, though. Pharasma judges all justly, " he says reverently. " I'd hate to be too bold, but if you she were to part with it, how much would it cost? Today I am penniless, but perhaps in time I could do you and your family a blessing by returning to purchase it? "

 

Kristoph frowns, at first sadly, then with frustration, through the sheriff's explanation. When the spectacled young man speaks up about arcane magic he listens and then purses his lips in thought. Looking back to Sheriff Caeller Kristoph pipes up too. " If what this gentleman says is true, and I have no reason to doubt him, then there is more to this story, Sheriff Caeller. The ruins are dangerous? Fine, I believe you. But why? Really? " he asks, intensity and confidence projecting from him. " You can tell me, or I could just ask Father Grimburrow. Around here he is surely a priest of the goddess I revere, so he'd likely tell me... " Kristoph finishes, unconsciously traces the spiral on his tabard.

 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Diplomacy  (1d20+7)[ 17 ] 
 
Farmerbink
Elian smiles mischievously, matching Zellara's evasion with his own mysteriousness.  " Alas, it seems we're running short on that just now... "

He favors the youngster with an appreciative nod.  " Ah, hard at work, then.  Well done, young man Pevrin. "  Keenly aware of the impact of positive attention from adults, he holds the young man's gaze a few moments longer than strictly necessary.  " Take care on the remaining poles! "

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Just a reminder that Elian exceeded the perception DC?  Don't know if anything more was to come from that right now, but  I  don't want to forget it entirely :-).
 


 

At the run-down Lorrimor home, Elian keeps his peace, listening as the sheriff expounds and Aaron makes his objections known.    Strange and stranger,   he wonders, musing the details as they come...
SanguinePenguin
Tamara returns Kendra’s hug and doesn’t leg go.  Few things can flap the halfling’s general unflappability, but the death of a man practically her idol is certainly one of them.  Sometimes trodding the heroic path leads through blades and blood; right now, it’s through tears and hugs.  She squeezes more tightly and sobs a bit too.

When she recognizes Adivon’s voice, she says,  “Oh Adivon!  Petros… he…”   A sniffle.  A deep breath.   “Petros has… died.”   She considered softening the words for Kendra’s sake, but injecting any euphemism for something so cataclysmic and yet so mundane seemed more of an offense somehow.
Inspectre
 Kristoph 

Luramin gives a wistful smile at the question of purchasing the armor, nodding at his wife.

“Afraid you’d have to talk to dear Marta about that one.  Currently, it’s not for sale – not for any price.  Personally, I’d like to take it out of the store for that reason, but . . . we have nowhere else to put it.”

Your conversation comes to an abrupt end a moment later as one of the young girls breaks away from Marta to run over to Luramin, jumping up and down at his feet with arms outstretched.  Luramin turns away from you with a smile, bending down to pick up his daughter and swing her up onto his shoulders.

“Oof!  You’re getting so heavy Elizabet!  I don’t know if I’m going to be able to carry you anymore!”

Luramin warns, staggering to the side and loosening his grip on the girl’s legs, causing her to shift backwards and nearly topple off of his shoulders.  Rather than cry out in alarm, however, Elizabet cackles in delight and cries out in mock concern “Catch me then Daddy!”  Luramin immediately straightens up and steadies the girl as she continues to laugh – evidentially this was some sort of game.  With the merchant’s full attention now on his family, and the last crates picked up out of the mud and loaded into the shop, it was time for you to quietly take your leave for the moment.  You’d have to talk to Marta about purchasing that suit of armor some other time, when she is not still trying to herd four other children.

 Elian 
 
 Spoiler: The girl 

The young waif solemnly walking down the street seems to be unnoticed by everyone except you, which makes her stand out even more to your eyes due to the contrast with the other children running about pelt-mell.  Since you’re on foot now, rather than race past her you’re able to follow the girl at a discreet distance.  She’s holding something in her hands that is taking almost her full attention – you’re able to eventually make out that it seems to be a long black feather, likely a tail feather from a crow or raven.  The girl twists it back and forth in her fingers, looking at it with clear quiet anguish – a memento from a beloved pet?  Gift from a deceased family member?  Impossible to know without actually talking to the child or her parents, and getting involved in a child’s personal sorrows was hardly what you had come to Ravengro for.  At least you do see where she lives, as shortly past the loop of the town square, the girl ducks down a side alley between two buildings and goes up to the next house back from the “main” road, pulling open the front door and ducking inside.  You faintly hear a female voice call from the depths of the house “How were your lessons today, Lireia?”, before the door swings closed.
 

 Everyone 
 “What!?” 

Adivon says in response to Tamara’s simple but heartfelt explanation for what happened to your mentor.  He simply stares at Tamara for several long moments, mouth not quite agape but his posture clearly conveying a sense of disbelief in line with if Tamara had said Petros had gone on sabbatical on the Moon.  After that brief pause, however, he recovers and clears his throat, his attention re-settling on Kendra as he returns to his usual stern professor demeanor.

 “My apologies, miss, I do not believe we’ve been introduced yet.  I am Professor Adivon Adrissant of Lepidstadt, and you are?” 

This question inspires Kendra to pull herself together, awkwardly wiping away a fresh set of tears out from under her shaded glasses with one hand while using her other on Tamara’s shoulder to half-pull, half-push herself back up to her feet.  Once back on her feet, she lifts the hem of her dress and gives a proper curtsey to the professor.

 “I am Kendra Lorrimor.  My father has told me a lot of stories about you, Professor Adrissant.  He thought very highly of you.” 

Again, for the second time in as many minutes Adivon is clearly stunned, and this time even seems a bit hurt as his brow furrows in thought, muttering quietly to himself.

 “He never told me he had a daughter . . . *ahem*!  So, how did Petros die?” 

This prompts a sigh from the Sheriff, before he quickly fills Adivon in on what he just told all of you, prompting a firm headshake from the professor.

 “Ridiculous.  Mister Eldaval has the right of it – it is simply absurd to think that Petros would put himself in such a situation to begin with!”
 
The Sheriff lets out yet another frustrated sigh and waves to his two deputies.

 “You two go on ahead and tell Hearthmount about the funeral, I’ll catch up in a minute.” 

As the two deputies shrug and ride off down the road, the Sheriff turns his attention to Kristoph and Aaron.

 “Father Grimburrow is the one you want to talk to, both about the prison and whether or not you can privately say your good-byes to ol’ Petros.  I’m . . . well, I’m just the Sheriff around here, so I’m just the one trying to keep idiots from going and getting themselves hurt up in those old ruins.  All I know is that folks around here consider the prison haunted, but the source for that is mostly just the ghost stories that the local drunks tell each other for fun, far as I know.  If you want, I can take you over to the chapel, introduce you to the Father.” 
 
 Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 15 

Yeah, the Sheriff is still not being completely honest here.  There’s still that note of apprehension and doubt in his voice when referring to the prison.  He seems to be trying to pass off that tidbit about the ruins being haunted as just a local superstition to explain away the caution, but he in fact happens to be one of those people who see the prison as haunted.  That belief is the core of why he sees the prison ruins as “dangerous”, but there’s a fervent edge to that belief that you can’t quite put a finger on.  Whatever the reason behind it is, it’s a deeply personal one.
 

 “My father believed the prison was haunted.” 

Kendra says quietly.

 “He made quite a study of it and its history over the years – what little people around here were willing to tell him about it, anyway.”
 
She concludes, with just a note of bitterness as she gestures back at the door to the Lorrimor home.

 “Assuming you can find it amongst all of his other notes from various research projects, you’re welcome to come inside and look through them.” 

The invitation to come inside seems to trigger a thought in Kendra’s mind, as she suddenly covers her mouth with her hand.

 “Oh!  Where are my manners!?  All of you must be exhausted after traveling all this way!  Please, come inside!  We . . . I . . . don’t have much in the way of refreshments, but there is some water, and maybe an old bottle of wine . . .”
 
 “Ah, finally some proper hospitality in this town!  You need not worry about refreshment, my dear, as I did bring a bottle of Petros’s favorite vintage with me from Lepidstadt.  It was meant to be a gift, but well . . . perhaps it will serve well for a final toast to his memory instead?” 

The Sheriff looks around warily at the group, adjusting his hat on his head for the third time since this conversation began.

 “I don’t want to impose here, so I reckon now is as good a time as any to tell me leave.  Again, my sympathies on your loss, Kendra.  If any of you wish to be introduced to Father Grimburrow now, I can take you over to the chapel.”
 
(Party split time!  If anyone wishes to go with the Sheriff to see Father Grimburrow right now, you may do so, or you can stay here and continue to associate with Kendra and Adivon.  And obviously, it’s not like you all can’t go see Father Grimburrow yourselves later, it’s just that right now the Sheriff is offering to introduce you to him.)
Farmerbink
 
 Originally Posted by Inspectre 
  “My father believed the prison was haunted.”  
 

" He was a wise man, " Elian interjects quietly, pointedly keeping the young woman's gaze.


 
 Originally Posted by Inspectre 
  “It was meant to be a gift, but well . . . perhaps it will serve well for a final toast to his memory instead?”  
 

The lithe, pale man smiles and nods.  " A fitting tribute. "


 
 Originally Posted by Inspectre 
  “If any of you wish to be introduced to Father Grimburrow now, I can take you over to the chapel.”  
 

Elian turns to the sheriff directly, for the first time.  Extending a hand to shake, he nods in appreciation.  " I'm sure there will be time for that later, and Miss Lorrimor can make sure we find him, " he offers by way of politely declining the offer.  " Thank you for being here for her, and keeping the peace here in Ravengro. "

Elian turns to follow Kendra inside, mumbling.  " Seems this graveyard is an important place... "  The canny observer might note that the mumbles are a bit louder and clearer than most...
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Originally Posted by Inspectre 
  “Father Grimburrow is the one you want to talk to, both about the prison and whether or not you can privately say your good-byes to ol’ Petros.  I’m . . . well, I’m just the Sheriff around here, so I’m just the one trying to keep idiots from going and getting themselves hurt up in those old ruins.  All I know is that folks around here consider the prison haunted, but the source for that is mostly just the ghost stories that the local drunks tell each other for fun, far as I know.  If you want, I can take you over to the chapel, introduce you to the Father.”  
 

" Sheriff, you are doing important work and we respect you for it. Please don't take offense - several of us knew the Professor better than you could have guessed. As for the prison ruins, if they are haunted then Pharasma demands action from me, but I will not go off alone or unprepared. I will also let you and the good Father know before I visit them, " Kristoph says, respect and steel in his voice, particularly when referring to the undead. It's clear he takes the Pharasmin prohibition against undead very seriously...

With a nod at Elian's diplomatic words the knight turns to their unexpected hostess and smiles, sadly. " I will only have one glass tonight, to honor the recently departed, but I agree - the wine is a fine tribute. Miss Lorrimor, I'm afraid my boots are quite muddy - where can I clean them off before I come inside? Your hospitality is welcome, in spite of the sad news... "

 
 Spoiler: Diplomacy Check, if needed, for the Sheriff 
 (1d20+7)[ 17 ] 
 
Gyrfalcon
Aaron takes a deep breath and lets it out, realizing that he had been ignoring the one most affected by the Professor’s death – the man’s own daughter.   ”Of course, Miss Kendra. A toast to your father’s name is the right thing to do. It looks like all of us here knew the Professor, and we can speak of better times with the Professor.” 

When the warrior of Pharasma asks for a place to clean the mud from his boots, Aaron manages a small chuckle.  ”Please, allow me good sir.”  he says, casting [Prestidigitation] he points to each person’s footwear in turn as they enter the home, the spell cleaning them in turn.
Farmerbink
Elian eyes Aaron with newfound interest- or perhaps respect.  " Quite the handy trick, that- especially amidst seasonal showers. "  He frowns thoughtfully, but inclines his head in appreciation as his suddenly-clean feet make for the threshold behind Kendra.
DarkOne-Rob
Kristoph nods thankfully to Aaron and carefully enters the home, mindful of his armor and weapons as he looks for a place to set them where they won't be in the way or damage anything - but still be available if needed. " Thank you for the assistance, sir. I'm afraid I don't know your name, nor have I introduced myself to everyone. It seems we all knew the late Professor, though, so perhaps we should be friends. My name is Kristoph Harrisson. I'm training to be a holy knight, dedicating my life to the service of Pharasma and her crusade against the unholy taint of undeath in our world. So far as I know I am the only such warrior blessed to walk the path of the paladin in our faith, but I am no less deterred by the solitude. I met Professor Lorrimor on the road to Virlych where he and I fought off a small group of skeletons together... "
Gyrfalcon
Aaron finds a seat inside as Kristoph begins the informal wake, detailing the adventure that led to his acquaintance with the late Professor. When the holy squire finishes, a silence fills the room. Aaron is the one to break it, polishing his glasses with the hem of his tunic.

 ”Shall I go next? My name is Aaron Eldaval, and I am a student of the arcane arts. I originally studied at the University of Lepidstadt, while the Professor was one of the instructors there. I had joined the seminary of Phrasma, but the path of faith was… well, not mine to walk. Professor Lorrimor took me under his wing, and gave me a letter of recommendation to one of the universities in Absalom.

It was a long journey, and Absalom is a completely different world to our own Ustalav. I found I excelled at my arcane studies there, and I made a living writing several collections of folk tales. We find the story about the two zombies and the ghoul to be quite normal, but apparently its considered quite macabre in Absalom… but there’s a healthy market for that sort of story… 

A strangely armored sachel at Aaron’s waist rattles, and with a smile he opens it. A tiny white and grey lizard-bird climbs up his arm and circles across his shoulder, resting a winged forearm on his head as it peers with alert curiosity at the others in the house. It opens its beak to chirp, revealing the teeth lining the yellow appendage.

 ”This is Perry, my rhamphorhynchus familiar. It’s a mouthful to say. He’s something of a testament that you can truly can find anything in Absalom.”  Aaron says with a wry smile.  ”I might have continued my time there for some years, but I received a letter from the Professor asking for my aid in some matter. Given the great favors he had done me, I was on my way at once.”  his face fell as he finishes quietly.  ”Though not fast enough, sad to say.” 
 
 Spoiler:  Rhamphorhynchus 
 
 
SanguinePenguin
Despite the obvious allure of going to an Ustalav graveyard, Tamara knows that Kendra needs her more… and some part of her needs Kendra too.  Perhaps it was because she was her main extant link to the late Professor, but there was some desire to stay in her presence.

When Aaron politely cleans her boots, she smiles broadly, the first bit of joy she had in almost 11 minutes!   “Wow!  I don’t know if they’ve ever been this clean!  Thank you!” 

After Kristoph’s introduction, Tamara nods as the man is obviously correct.  She opens her mouth to introduce herself right as Aaron takes a turn.  She listens intently to the tale, her grin widening at the introduction of the familiar.  When no one else jumps to an introduction, she announces,  “my name is Tamara Whittlecrop Brockhouse.  I’ve lived in different places, born in Cheliax, then Andoran, then Druma, Nirmathas, Lastwall, now Ustalav!  I am… well I guess a sellsword is the right term, but I aspire to adventure!  As to how I met the professor, well, one of my jobs took me into the lair of a beast of unspeakable horror,”  at this point the halfling’s transition to into storytelling becomes clear, her voice suspenseful and her diction waxing poetic,  “the team I was with were investigating a band of cultists in northern Nirmathas, the twelve of us cleared their gathering, then descended into an underground vestry where we believed the leader was holed up.  What we found there was an amorphous writhing mass of flesh, teeth, tentacles, and eyes.  The chitters and gibberish it produced were maddening - thinking became like trying to… cartwheel in a windstorm.  The very ground started to melt, the stone became as mud, hells… my boot print might even still be there set in solid stone.  Our leader, Allin, went crazy and attacked Pax from behind; the thing spit acid into Kel’s eyes and he went blind; it grabbed Jerry and ate him; I hit it, but I don’t know what good it did.  Doral gave the order to flee,”  Tamara sighs slightly, clearly still unhappy with the call,  “and so we did.  Fortunately, it gave me this cool acid burn on the way out!”   She displays the back of her hand proudly, where a sizable purple chemical burn is located.

 “That’s the short version.  So our group disbanded after losing Jerry and especially Pax at Allin’s hand no less.  Petros learned of this aberrant horror somehow, but no one else from my former group would talk about it for some reason, maybe it damaged their memories somehow?  Eventually, he found me, and we talked all about it and his adventures.  In the past year since we met, I’ve even worked for him twice now as a guard!  It was fun, but nothing as neat as the gibbering mouther happened in those jobs.”   There is genuine disappointment in her tone.
Farmerbink
The lithe, pale man snorts good-naturedly.  "  Healthy  market.  Clever. "  Smiling in genuine mirth, he listens raptly to Tamara's naturally-endearing, if amateur, delivery.  As she falls silent, he claps enthusiastically, stepping forward from where he leaned against a door frame.  " My dear, you have a  gift!   With just a bit of polish I daresay you could spin a yarn as would rival the best in House Ordranti!  Ah, I suppose I might as well follow you, though I'd rather let some other sap take the fall, " he adds with a grin.

" My name is Elian Evenstarr.  Of course, that's not my  real  last name, as 'Henricks' just doesn't do anyone any favors on the stage- no disrespect to my father, of course.  I had the- ah  good favor  to meet the late professor Lorrimor on one of his many visits to the City.  To my unending shame, I found myself in desperate need of a personal connection, and he played along quite well.  Meaning no offense, Master Harrison, but I  do  hope you've a greater appreciation of humor than many of your colleagues. "  He smiles ingratiatingly before turning back to Kendra and the others.

" By trade, I suppose I'm a storyteller.  In most places it pays near as well as larceny, and to my knowledge hasn't  yet  been outlawed anywhere!  By preference, I'm a singer and- well, I try my very best to know anything worth knowing. "  Finally, his expression softens to one more suitable to the recent loss.  " Jokes aside, I owed him my life.  Honestly, I wasn't looking forward to hearing what he was going to ask in return, but- " he gestures vaguely to the conspicuously empty chair.  " Now I wish- "

Tears choke back his final statement, and he turns away to compose himself.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Feel free to roll sense motive if you must.  Elian is taking 10 on bluff for a modified 20.

The broad strokes are true.  The details are nearly complete fabrication. 😁
 
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Sense Motive:  (1d20+3)[ 23 ] 
 

Kristoph raises an eyebrow at the other man's story, smirking a bit and chuckling under his breath. " I am, to my knowledge, the only paladin in Pharasma's church. A sense of humor is a basic requirement of my office, " he responds before turning to listen to the rest of the gathering's introductions.
Inspectre
The Sheriff merely sighs and adjusts his hat one final time at Kristoph's oath to fulfill his purpose as Pharasma's implement to bring peace to the unquiet dead within the haunted prison.

 "Now, that's why I didn't want to say anything.  But I'll put in a word to the town council - they're the ones you'll need to convince to get permission to go poking into things that just should be left well enough alone." 

The Sheriff then wanders off up the road, leaving Kendra to play hostess for all of you.  The professor's daughter leads the way up onto the front porch, gesturing at a spot just to the right of the stairs.

 "Oh, watch your step right there!  The boards are a little rotten there - you might break all the way through if you put your full weight on it!" 

As she steps inside, Kendra removes the dark glasses from over her eyes, breathing a faint sight of relief.

 "My apologies, but I've found the afternoon sun to be very irritating to my eyes as of late.  As for where you can clean your boots, umm . . . we never needed such a room, as Father usually - ah, yes!  That!" 

Kendra says, gesturing at Aaron as the wizard cleans the paladin's boots of mud with a simple spell.  With Aaron now manning the door to repeat the process on everyone else's boots, Kendra is free to lead the group deeper inside the Lorrimor home.  The interior of the house does seem to be as old and rundown as the exterior, as there are spots here and there where the paint is beginning to peel and the old wooden floor groans and creaks in protest.  Despite its age, however, the home certainly appears cozy and well lived-in, if perhaps a little overcrowded with artifacts and knick-knacks taken from an eclectic variety of places from across Golarion – some examples include a wooden ritual mask from the Mwangi Expanse hanging on the wall there, a decorative scroll displaying calligraphy from Minkai across from it, and a clay urn decorated with designs from Osirion tucked in the corner beyond them.

Although it’s a little cramped, all of you manage to squeeze together into the small kitchen at the back of the house, gathered around the table.  After a bit of searching, Kendra finds a corkscrew for Adivon to make use of, and then sets to work producing an equally eclectic mix of goblets and cups for the toast.  Once everyone has been served their own small portion from the bottle, Adivon raises his goblet.

 “To a dear mentor and friend.  Rest well, Petros, you have more than earned your rest.” 

Kendra raises her cup in response, but sets it aside without drinking from it as a fresh wave of grief washes across her face.  She turns away from the group, moving over to the small fireplace in the corner and stoking the fire back up.

 “W-would anyone l-like some tea?” 

Kendra asks, a faint quaver creeping into her voice as she reaches over to manipulate a lever on the side of the fireplace.  She recoils with a loud cough as smoke from the growing fire starts billowing out into the kitchen.

 “Oh no!  It’s those sparrows again – they must have rebuilt their nest up in the flue!  I told Father I had suspected as much, but he said he would take care of it when he . . . he . . . “ 

This memory seems to break the dam completely, as Kendra racks back onto her heels, covers her mouth with a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress to stifle the sobs, and begins a fresh round of crying.  Adivon seems particularly perturbed by this fresh outpouring of emotion from Petros’ daughter, as he fiddles with his goblet, takes a step toward Kendra, stops, opens his mouth as if to say something, but then remains silent.  After another few moments Adivon seems to arrive at a course of action, as he steps over to the fireplace, fiddling with the flue lever and coughing from the smoke before he grunts in frustration and whispers a spell, summoning a thin blue ray to lance down into the fire and partially extinguish it, and roughly returning it to its previous low ebb, cutting down on the smoke dramatically.

 
 Spoiler: Spellcraft DC 10 

Adivon casts Ray of Frost on the fire, extinguishing most of it.
 

 “So . . . how did all of you meet our mutual friend?” 

Adivon asks, clearly hoping to strike up a new conversation to replace the awkward silence that settled over the group.  That led in to the various members of the group to make their introductions, including the introduction of Perry, who earned a brief but curious examination from Adivon – and seems to rouse Kendra from the depths of her anguish as well.

 “Hrm . . . that is a most unusual familiar, Mister Eldaval.  Do you recall where in Absolam you purchased it?” 
 “Oh, how adorable!” 

Kendra sniffles, wiping at her eyes as she pushes herself back up onto her feet and comes over to stand beside Aaron, tentatively stretching out a hand towards Perry before stopping to look for confirmation form Aaron.

 “May I?  Or does Perry bite?” 

Assuming Aaron (and Perry) approves, Kendra reaches out a finger and gently scratches and strokes under Perry’s chin, drawing forth a chip of approval from the tiny dino – it seems Kendra has made one more new friend today.

As the conversation moves on to Tamara’s tale of how she met Petros, Adivon nods appreciatively.

 “You are most fortunate not to have been killed by such a foul thing, young lady.  Gibbering mouthers are quite formidable and unpleasant abominations – and unfortunately a nuisance that have been growing more and more common in Ustalav as of late.” 

Adivon spits, his disgust dripping off each word.

 “Should you ever wish to avenge your comrades’ deaths upon one of its kin, do let me know.  I believe I could direct you to one nest or another where one is lairing – or where to avoid, if you would rather not have a repeat of your prior experience.” 

Eventually the introductions are all complete, with the exception of Adivon, who finishes the last of his portion of wine and sets the empty goblet aside with a nod.

 “Well, I suppose I should formerly introduce myself.  I am Professor Adivon Andrissant of Lepidstadt – yes, my however many greats-grandfather was the Andrissant of legend who drove the Whispering Tyrant back into his tomb-fortress, and then helped seal him inside with his last breath.  I do prefer to stand upon my own merits, however meager they may be in comparison, so please do not reveal this bit of my lineage to anyone beyond this room.  As for how I met Petros, well, let’s just say that a certain brash young student raised a rather loud and foolish objection in the middle of one of his lectures at the university.  And, although he was made to regret his bravado a few moments later after Professor Lorrimor dismantled his entire argument, the student earned a new mentor and friend – eventually.” 

Adivon shakes his head with a rueful smile, and makes a brief mock salute with his hand at the memory.
DarkOne-Rob
 With the Sheriff 

" I will not guarantee that I will follow the council's direction, but I will inform you if I intend to go. There are laws greater than that of man, and the Lady of Graves does not permit me to ignore her edicts. However, I owe you, as legitimate authority here, an explanation should I explore the ruins. Go in peace, now, good Sheriff. I am sure we will speak again soon... " replies Kristoph as he excuses himself to visit the mourning daughter of his dead friend.

 Inside, after everyone has toasted the Professor and shared their stories 

With some light coughs Kristoph goes to open a window or two. " Someone needs to help you get that cleared, Miss Kendra! " he exclaims. " If you have a ladder I will do so, though it won't fix things forever. Perhaps with so many of us here we can help you best by taking care of these...mundane problems while the necessary work is done to inter your father...? " Kristoph asks as he hesitates on several phrases and tries to consider the best way to gently console the young lady.

 
 Spoiler: Diplomacy 
 (1d20+7)[ 17 ] 
 
Gyrfalcon
Perry chirps in contentment as Kendra lavishes his long beak with affection. At a mental nudge from Aaron, he crawls across the young man’s arm and onto Kendra’s wrist, chirping away to her. For Aaron’s part, he is glad that his friend can provide Kendra some comfort in a dark time.

 ”I’m afraid that I found him at one of the temporary stalls on a market day in one of the great squares. I haven’t seen the same vendor again since, but should you wish to find an exotic familiar, I know there are many shops that cater to every possible wish for a familiar, from cats and toads to pseudodragons and other rarities, Professor.” 

Once the Professor reveals his heritage, Aaron nods his head in respect – both for his legacy and for his determination not to let it overshadow his own achievements.  ”Professor Petros’ wisdom has always been widely regarded, it seems. To a mentor and friend.”  Aaron says softly, raising his cup in toast to the memory of Professor Lorrimor.

As the group converses, Aaron takes a moment to talk to Kristoph.  ”I apologize for intruding, but I overheard your conversation with the Sheriff. You too believe the prison might be haunted? I have a professional interest in such things. If you wish to go there, let me know – I’m knowledgeable in several fields, though far less so than the Professor. I would be honored to help solve the Professor’s last mystery.” 
Farmerbink
 
 Originally Posted by DarkOne7141981 
 " I will not guarantee that I will follow the council's direction, but I will inform you if I intend to go. " 
 

Elian snorts quietly at the young paladin's diplomatic rebuttal.  " I always did prefer forgiveness to permission, myself, " he adds with a smirk.

In the living room, he listens politely to the professor's introduction and his unlikely companion's comments.  " You'd have to be at least half-mad to really intend to venture into Harrowstone, " the pale bard interjects.  " Only good thing that ever comes from places like that is the stories, and most folks don't know the difference between truth and fiction, anyway, " he adds with visible wariness.  " Do your best to ignore it, or burn the place down and let whatever haunts it float about the rubble, if you ask me. "

The paladin earns another appraising glance, at mention of the mundane necessities.  " Sparrows should be no problem for a paladin of the lady of graves.  I suspect your training didn't include aviaries nor pest removal, but I can assure you it's simpler than learning the blade and rites. "  Turning to Kendra, he inclines his head modestly.  " I'll appreciate a warm bath after, but I suspect my shoulders would be less a hindrance than our broad-armed young friend's here.  Please, let us know whatever you need and as long as I'm able I will be at your service. "
Inspectre
Kendra gives a soft gasp of surprise as Perry hops across onto her wrist, but is clearly delighted by the familiar's affection as she continues scratching away around the chirping familiar's beak.  It's not until Kristoph mentions clearing the chimney that her attention returns to the rest of the group.

 "Oh, that would be lovely!  I could definitely use the help - Father and I did the best we could, but this house has a  lot  of problems that need fixing!  I am afraid, though, that we do not have a ladder - when Father needed to get up onto the roof to tend to the plant samples from the Mwangi Expanse that he was trying to grow, he would simply climb up the side of the house!" 
 "Hah!  Is he still trying to get those samples to grow!?  I told him that the chill Ustlavian fog would doubtlessly smother any plant used to the sweltering heat and bright sunlight of their homeland!" 

Adivion barks, although the laughter that accompanies his words dies on his lips as he catches his error in tenses regarding the late Professor.  Kendra clearly doesn't miss the mistake either, as she reflexively winces, but keeps her composure this time as she nods.

 "It hadn't stopped him from trying.  I'm sure that Luramin has a ladder that he would be willing to loan you, Kristoph, and I should be able to cover whatever cost he asks for in return.  While you're up there, perhaps you can bring the pots down off the roof?  I would prefer not to see such a reminder of Father's fruitless labor every time I look up at the roof from the back door." 

Kendra next turns her attention to Elian and favors him with a wain smile.

 "Oh, a warm bath would be lovely!  We do have plenty of water – there’s a small stream a short distance down the street, and the river a little further beyond that.  The trouble is heating it.  We have a porcelain tub that Father brought back from his one trip to Minkai which could magically heat water placed inside it, but it stopped working a while ago.  Another thing Father was going to get around to fixing later . . . and while we could heat up the water the old fashioned way . . .” 

Kendra gestures to the fireplace, where a few thin wisps of smoke are still curling around it.

 “But that will be difficult until those sparrows are chased off again.” 
 “Perhaps I can be of assistance.  While I find the concept of a self-warming bath fascinating, I imagine that it operates on some level similar to one of the most rudimentary arcane spells – Prestidigitation, which in addition to cleaning, can warm or cool non-living matter.  A single casting of the spell can only affect a small amount of material, however, and so warming an entire bathtub up to a sufficient temperature would be fairly tedious, but doable.” 
 “Oh, that is clever!  I had not considered using that spell in such a manner before!  I had been afraid that warm baths were a luxury of the past, but I suppose with a bit of time I could provide myself with one whenever I wished!  Thank you for the idea, Professor!” 
 “Oh, so you are a student of the arcane then, Miss Kendra?  I suppose I should have expected as much, given your Father was –“ 
 “Self-taught.” 

Kendra snaps, cutting Adivon off, and then looks down and sighs in embarrassment at the flash of anger.

 “Father did not approve of me studying magic, so I could only learn whatever snippets I gleamed from his textbooks while he was away.  Fortunately I am a quick study, but I have still only mastered the most rudimentary forms of magic, including Prestidigitation, as well as a few other minor tricks.” 
 “That does not sound like the Petros I knew.  I would have expected that he would have been trying to teach you everything he knew so you could come along on his adventures.” 
 “He was very protective of me.   Too  protective.” 

Kendra insists quietly, and an awkward silence begins to fester in the room, thankfully broken after a few long moments by the sound of a knock at the front door, followed immediately by the sound of the door opening.  From the entry hallway, a feminine voice calls out  “Kendra, are you home?  Kendra . . . oh, hello!” 

The voice concludes as two figures step into sight in the kitchen’s doorway – a petite woman with streaks of grey in her hair, and a portly man dressed in the finest clothes you’ve seen in Ravengro.

 “We were in a council meeting when the sheriff came in to tell us about Petros – oh, I’m so sorry dear.” 

The woman explains, walking across the kitchen to give Kendra a smothering hug before turning her attention to all of you.

 “So, who are all of your guests?  I don’t recognize any of them.” 
 “We’re friends of Petros, madame . . .?” 

Adivon says stiffly, leaving the question hanging and prompting a nervous laugh from the woman.

 “Oh, where are my manners?  I am Shandra Faravan and this is Vashian Hearthmount.” 

Still in the doorway, the portly gentleman gives you all a nod of greeting and then turns to Kendra.

 “A pleasure.  Kendra, the funeral will be just before sundown as you know.  Afterwards, I would like to return here to read Petros’s will . . . and I would appreciate it if all of you would also be in attendance.”
 
Hearthmount explains, sweeping his gaze around to all of you in turn.

 “Is that really necessary “Vash”?” 

Kendra sighs, promptly a scowl from Hearthmount at the nickname.

 “I’m afraid that it is.  Your father presented me with a rewritten copy of his will several days ago, and I suspect that the changes were to incorporate some of the very people in this room.”
 
 “Several days ago?  How interesting . . . well, we’re all here now, so why don’t you go get it and read it now?” 

Avidon presses, earning an even deeper scowl from the councilman.

 “There is a time and place for everything, my good man, and the time and place for reading Petros’s last will and testament is  after  he is safely interred in the Restlands.  We will return here and I will read the will then.”
 
 “Will the two of you be at the funeral?” 

Kendra asks, finally managing to pull away from Shandra, who nods.

 “Of course, dear.  I was afraid that it was going to be just the three of us in attendance, but it looks like these friends of his from out of town arrived just in time.”
 
 “That is very good – some of you appear to be quite fit and strong.  Would any of you be willing to help carry the coffin from the church to the Restlands?  Otherwise I suppose I shall have to enlist the aid of some of Quess’s guards to do it, assuming she is willing to spare any.” 
 
 Spoiler: Vashian Hearthmount 

 
 

 
 Spoiler: Shandra Faravan 

 
 
DarkOne-Rob
Kristoph waits patiently for a moment when he can move forward with his idea to help clear the chimney, mentally noting some of the awkward topics (to avoid) and the arcane proclivities of their hostess. When the two Ravengro councilmembers arrive he nods respectfully and waits some more before finding an opportunity to speak.

" I would be honored to help carry my friend to his final resting place. Do we have time for me to run by Luramin's to borrow a ladder first? Miss Kendra is struggling with some mundane issues here that we hoped to help fix. If there isn't time now then those chores will have to wait until morning... " he asks. As he considers the sky out the window he says, " Ravengro isn't so large that I'm worried, but I haven't been to the Temple yet - is it close enough? "
Inspectre
"Certainly, we have a few hours until sunset approaches.  The temple is just back across the river, on the outskirts of town.  I imagine you saw it when you entered town."

Hearthmount explains, and then fidgets, peering at Kristoph's armor and heraldry.

 "Pardon me good sir, but by your heraldry I assume you are a man of the cloth?  I must admit I am hopeful that you can explain something to me.  It is tradition to bury the dead near sunset, but it is also said to be ill luck to bury the dead  after  sunset, that the spirit may not be able to find their way to Pharasma's seat in the dark and thus will return to the haunt the living instead.  If that is the case, why take that chance and not bury the dead in the middle of the day instead?"
 

Adivon quietly sighs and seems to be struggling not to put his face into his palm.

 
 Spoiler: Religion DC 15 

It is a Pharasman tradition to bury the dead around sunset, the setting of the sun a symbolic mirror of the soul's journey out of the body and into the darkness to await Pharasma's judgement.  However, there is no theological reason behind it - Pharasma will judge the dead's soul at their appointed time, regardless of the time of day their body is buried.  More so, the tradition was born out of a practical purpose, during the time of the war against the Whispering Tyrant, where most of the day would be spent to gather all of the bodies from the battlefield before the Tyrant's necromancers could get hold of them.  These bodies would then be buried or burned as necessity dictated before nightfall to thwart any attempts to steal them back in the dark.  Most likely, this superstition of the dead coming back if not interred before nightfall was due to attacks from  other  undead that emerged with the fading of the sun, not the deceased souls returning for revenge.
 
Gyrfalcon
Aaron considers the question and knows the answer immediately from his time in the seminary, but given it was directed to another, he contents himself to murmuring a jogging thought or a small bit of elaboration if needed to the paladin's own response.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Aid Another passed - Kristoph gets a +2 on his own roll. Additionally if he flubs it and wants help, Aaron can reiterate the same information as the spoiler to prompt his own explanation as our friendly Pharismanite remembers his lessons.
 
DarkOne-Rob
With an appreciative smile towards his companion Kristoph answers. " I am a devout man, though not a member of the clergy. In fact, I doubt most of them would have me...

Pharasma judges all souls, no matter when they are buried. That tradition came from the time when we fought against the Whispering Tyrant and was more practical than spiritual. That said, tradition is important too, so perhaps we should be going...? " he finishes with a questioning tone in his voice. " When we get back, or early tomorrow, I will help clear the chimney, Miss Kendra. "
SanguinePenguin
Tamara files Adivon’s offer for another gibbering mouther encounter into the ‘yes, definitely” category for another day.  She greets the newcomers with a beaming smile, and watches as they, especially Shandra, greet Kendra warmly.  Stifling her urges to breach into conversation by force of will, she watches the back and forth with interest.

When the modified will is mentioned, Tamara’s eyes widen.  It had never occurred to her that the Professor might leave her something!  He must have countless artifacts of unknown origins that would be a delight to play with!  Or better yet maybe there is a haunted mansion that he would leave to her if she could spend the night there!  He did pass away entering the abandoned prison, which Kendra said he believed was haunted… maybe, if she was really lucky, he might have arranged for her to get to investigate there.

When the conversation turns to pallbearing, Tamara says,  “I would be honored!”   Gazing around the group, she frowns,  “but I am guessing there won’t be three other short friends - a gnome or even a dwarf, of the professor coming?  I could probably help clear your chimney though!  Seems like a place to use my height to an advantage!” 
Farmerbink
Elian pipes up from where he had been largely watching the council members.  " I agree, let's be about the late Professor's business first, " he opines.  " I'm not overly fond of most things that 'go bump' in the night, and not fool enough to believe they don't exist.  With your blessing, of course, Miss Lorrimor, I would like to suggest we press on with the ceremonies and see our friend safely interred sooner rather than later. "

He turns to Kendra and Hearthmount, bowing deeply to his host and only slightly less-so to the councilman.  " I too, would be honored to serve at his side one last time, " he offers sincerely.
Inspectre
 "Hmph . . . well, I suppose that's fair enough." 

Hearthmount sniffs, clearly not entirely satisfied with Kristoph's answer regarding the timing of funerals in Ustalav.

 "I . . . may be able to assist you in this matter, young lady." 

Adivon offers after Tamara expresses her concerns over being able to help carry Lorrimor's coffin.  He glances over at Kendra.

 "Of course, someone will also be needed to walk beside Miss Lorrimor at the head of the procession as well.  I believe there is an important part to play there also." 

Adivon adds, looking at Hearthmount who gives a terse nod.  No doubt the professor is referring to another burial tradition in Ustalav, the trail of tears, as the lead members of the procession sprinkle water along the path that the deceased takes to their grave, a nod to Pharasma as a goddess of water as well as death (and probably some ritualistic representation of the river of souls leading the deceased onward to Pharasma's throne for judgement.)  Generally those closest to the deceased take this position, making it a similar mark of honor to be included along with those actually carrying the coffin to the grave.

(OOC:  So, we basically have five positions here with four pall-bearers carrying Petros’s coffin, and one up front with Kendra leading the procession.  Adivon is willing to take whatever position is left open, and since I believe we only have four players its just a matter of sorting out who goes where.  If each of you could mention whether you are going to carry the coffin or escort Kendra in your next post I would appreciate that.  Of course, you can also opt out of both and just follow along at the back with Shandra and Hearthmount if you’d prefer a third option!)

 “Yes, I need to get cleaned up and dressed for the funeral.  I will meet you at the temple?” 

Kendra says, turning to Shandra who gives a gentle nod.

 “We will wait for you there child.” 
 “Try not to tarry too long – we will not have much time to conclude the ceremony before sunset.” 

Hearthmount adds, clearly still uneasy despite Krisoph’s reassurances that the stories of the improperly buried dead returning for revenge were just stories.

 “How unfortunate, I was not expecting to have to attend a funeral today.  Please excuse me as well, I will need to briefly return to my inn room to acquire a change of appropriate attire as well.” 

Adivon says, quickly moving out of the kitchen back out to the front door, which seems to be the final signal that this visit with Lorrimor’s daughter is over.  Shandra and Hearthmount accompany you all back out to the front door.  As he steps outside, the councilman waves his hand towards the road leading onwards south out of town.

After crossing over a narrow streamlet feeding into the river via an ancient but sturdy wooden bridge about seventy feet from Lorrimor’s house, the road quickly reaches the southern end of Ravengro.  Marking this southern boundary is a large manor house and a separate out building.  While this road remains a wide well-trod path of mud to this point, at the manor house it curves around to the west, back towards the river.  There is also a road that continues leading due south, but it quickly narrows and becomes clogged with vegetation almost immediately after passing the manor house.  As it enters the forest beyond the village, the road becomes little more than a game trail through the undergrowth.  Further still to the south the dark outline of what could only be Harrowstone Prison squats against the skyline above the tops of the forest’s trees, overlooking the town from its position atop the highest hill there.

“This would be the quickest way to get across the river and over to the temple.  Of course, if you also need to retire back to our humble inn to adjust your attire, you are welcome to do so.”

Hearthmount explains, and then immediately begins walking down the road to the south without further commentary, clearly taking pains to step around the deepest pits of mud in the road with a quiet disgusted “tck”.  As you cross over the bridge and approach the manor house, those still traveling with Hearthmount and Shandra notice an older, well-dressed woman standing in front of the manor, directing the work of two gardeners in the flower bed covering most of the ground in between the manor and its out building – although perhaps berating them for the poor state of the flowers in said bed would be more accurate.

 “Hello, Mirta!  Will you also be joining us for Petros’s funeral?” 

Shandra calls, causing the older woman to whip her head around and scowl at the group in confusion for a moment.

 “Eh!?  That old codger’s finally dead!?  Hah!  Why would I want to pay my respects to such a troublemaker and likely necromancer?  Bastard probably cursed my flowerbed with some sort of blight!”
 
Mirta grunts, spitting into said flowerbed to underline her point.

 “If it was up to me, I’d bury him right here, amongst the mess he created!  Fertilizing my flowers with his useless carcass is the least penance he could do!”
 
The woman grumbles, turning back to gesture emphatically at a nearby wilted rose bush, berating the gardener who was working nearest to it.

 “No, idiot, stop digging there!  You damage its roots anymore and that’s going to be the end of it, along with your job!”
 
 “Mirta asked Petros to look into what could be wrong with her flowerbed, after the plants there began to all wither away and die.  He never was able to figure out what had gone wrong with it – seems Mirta is still holding a grudge about it.”
 
Shadra whispers quickly as your group proceeds onward past Mirta’s house and around the bend in the road, now heading west towards the river.  The bridge going across the river itself is a sturdy construction, stone pillars jutting up out of the water every dozen feet or so to support a covered wooden bridge spanning across the entirety of the river, in a mirror of the bridge you took to enter into the town’s northern square.  The one difference between them, however, is the massive moss-covered statue standing guard over the riverbank a few hundred feet south of the bridge itself.  Hearthmount nods at the stone sentry as you approach the bridge.

 “Don’t know how much you know about our town, but there used to be a prison a little further south – Harrowstone, they called it.  Well, that all ended after a riot by the prisoners caused a massive fire to break out, destroying most of the prison and killing many of the guards, including the warden and his wife.  My grandfather built that memorial to honor all the lives lost on that terrible day . . . course, now it’s just a place for lovesick youths to meet for their nighty trysts.”
 
Hearthmount grumbles, shaking his head at those amorous youths, real or exaggerated as they may be.  Once across the river, the road turns again, this time to the north, and it’s not long before the Temple of Pharasma is visible.  A stout stone building that is probably one of the largest in town, the temple could easily (and probably was intended to) serve as a fortified shelter for the town in event of attack.  Some attempts have been made to beautify the stone bunker/temple since its original construction, including a new smaller side wing that features a large stained-glass window depicting Pharasma sitting in judgement over a nobleman kneeling in supplication.

 
 Spoiler: History DC 10 

This is a relatively common image depicted throughout Ustalav, and so the nobleman kneeling before Pharasma to be judged is almost certainly intended to be Count Adachi, a nobleman who ruled over this region roughly six centuries ago.  While perhaps his various failures could be understood as due to the chaos rippling through all of Ustalav in the years immediately following the Whispering Tyrant’s downfall, history has judged him quite harshly for his failures, particularly for allowing an invasion of orcs from the adjacent Holds of Belkzen to nearly overrun the entire country.
 


It is this side-on addition that is your destination, as you cross around the front of the temple and enter into a small side chapel that takes up most of this new wing.  Waiting for you is a young man just barely out of his teenage years in the robes of an acolyte of the faith, a young woman dressed in black and with her features partially obscured by a heavy veil, and a plain but solidly built wooden coffin. The young acolyte excuses himself from his conversation with the woman, who remains by the coffin and runs her hand back and forth across the lid, as if trying to wash it away.

 “Hello, friends, I am Acolyte Rufio.  Father Grimburrow is preparing the actual burial site in the Restlands nearby.  We should be starting the procession to the grave shortly – are we waiting for anyone else?”
 
 “Just Kendra.  Oh, and possibly Gharen as well.” 

Hearthmount says quietly, pulling out a silk handkerchief to dab at his forehead while Shandra goes over to speak with the other woman.  As you file into the building, you see the boy some of you had observed posting notices just outside the town square walking briskly towards the temple, accompanied by a swarthy, balding man who could easily pass for a barrel rather than a man.

(OOC:  We’ll pause here for a chance of people to mingle, before we move onto the funeral proper.)
DarkOne-Rob
 
 Spoiler: Mechanics 
Knowledge (History, untrained):  (1d20+1)[ 12 ] 
 

Kristoph nods silently at the familiar scene in the stained glass window, though he appears to decide not to comment on it.

At the temple he takes a moment to kneel and make the sign of the spiral over the one on his tabard. From the ground he says a silent prayer and then rises to approach the coffin. Taking the back left corner position he introduces himself to the woman there, saying, " Hello. I am sorry to meet under sad circumstances, but my name is Kristoph, servant of our Lady of Graves. The Professor was an erstwhile companion of mine on travels some time back. Did you know Lorrimor well? "
Farmerbink
Elian is content to remain a pallbearer, and allows his kept peace to be sufficient indication.  " I fear my dress will be woefully inadequate.  My traveling cloak is by far my simplest affair; I fear my other outfits would prove unduly off-putting. "  He considers his options only briefly before admitting defeat with a rueful frown.

The lithe bard prowls nearly silently along at the back of the group, eyeing the bridges and stonework with appreciation and a bit of distrust.  As they approach the temple of Pharasma, he looks on with an oddly pensive expression before dutifully filing in at the rear.  He somewhat pointedly doesn't either speak with the acolyte or approach the veiled woman, instead keeping to himself and clasping his hands respectfully near the coffin.
Gyrfalcon
Aaron murmurs to the bard, who was indicating his lack of suitable garments.  "If it is an issue of color alone, I can help with that. The changes in color last about an hour - its something of a very simple illusion."  he says, demonstrating as he adjusts the color of his own traveling clothes to black.

 Knowledge (History) -   (1d20+8)[ 26 ]   Inside the church, Aaron eyes the stained glass relief of Count Adachi in judgment by Pharasma with an appreciation of the history and the artistry together.  "Truly, the story of Count Adachi remains one of the most compelling pieces of our recent history. In truth, we judge him quite harshly with the benefit of historical hindsight. Many of his mistakes were understandable in the chaos of the day, though his failure to respond to the orcish incursions was quite damning, even in his own day."  the student of history said to anyone interested.

He finds a place near the coffin, taking a moment to rest his fingers on the plain wood and murmur a benediction for the body of his friend and mentor contained inside.
DarkOne-Rob
Kristoph smiles and nods in agreement as Aaron discusses the history of the stained glass window's subject. " I agree - one of the failures of our perspective. A bit of empathy directed towards him would be a nice addition to the history books, " he says before they both reach the casket and he's distracted by introducing himself to the female mourner.
Inspectre
The woman turns at Kristoph's approach, extending her hand wordlessly to offer it to him.  Although her fingers are long and delicate, her grip is firm, and through her veil her grey-irised eyes stare into Kristoph's own.

 "Jominda Fallenbridge.  I run the apothecary shop here in Ravengro." 
 "I am surprised that you have time to leave your shop unattended, Jominda, or is it closed today for another of Sheriff Caeller's surprise inspections?" 

Shandra asks from over Kristoph's shoulder, and the apothecary's eyes flick over to the councilwoman to glare at her.

 "My shop has never been closed by the Sheriff!  He merely stops by now and again to . . . window shop and inquire about healing poultices for him and his deputies.  I don't know how those vile rumors got started, but the only things I sell in my shop are perfectly legal!" 

Jominda gives Shandra one last scowl, and then forces a soft smile onto her face as she shifts her gaze back to Kristoph.

 “It is an honor to meet one of Professor Lorrimor’s proteges, as I believe he referred to you as when relaying some stories of his adventures outside Ravengro.  I . . . would not say that I knew the Professor terribly well, despite collaborating with him on several projects.  He was a very secretive man, but also a very kind one.” 

(OOC:  This is a sense motive with multiple levels of success)
 
 Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 12 

Jominda is not a very talented liar, as she has to pause for a brief second to come up with the lie instead of having one prepared already.  Her anger at the Sheriff’s repeat visits to her shop is real, but the given reason for those visits is not.  She has no idea why the Sheriff keeps stopping by, but made up the healing poultices comment as a way to explain it without appearing guilty of selling anything illicit.

That undercurrent of frustration appears again when she speaks of the Professor, although with much less of an edge to it.  She definitely did not know the Professor as well as she would have liked, so that much is true, but she is definitely downplaying what she does know about the Professor here.

 
 Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 16 

If Professor Lorrimor could be said to have had one flaw, it was that he could be a shameless womanizer.  And looking at Jominda, she is exactly his type, so in at least one respect she probably knew him  very  well.  And that slight flush to her cheeks as she downplays their relationship all but confirms it.  Clumsy as her attempts at concealing this may be, it seems that their relationship was – as much as any such thing could be in a small town – a secret, which she is continuing to keep, more for the Professor’s memory than her own embarrassment.

 
 Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 20 

While Jominda is not a terribly skilled liar, Shandra seems to be better at maintaining a façade.  You still catch that brief, flickering sneer of disdain as Jominda speaks of the Professor – so at least one person in town was aware of their relationship, and did  not  approve.  Which also gives a bit of context to that slight smile you saw crawl across Shandra’s face after she needled Jominda about the Sheriff’s visits to her shop, and the apothecary exploded in anger.  Clearly Shandra does not like Jominda, but there doesn’t seem to be any reason for such a deep-seated hatred, unless . . . oh, gods damnit Professor.
 

 

 


The apothecary takes a shuffling step to the side, gesturing to the closed coffin.

(OOC: This one is a Perception check, followed by a Heal check if the Perception is successful)
 
 Spoiler: Perception DC 15 

There is something about Jominda’s gait that is off.  With the long dress down to the top of her boots you can’t see her legs, but something is definitely something awkward about the way she shifts her weight to take that side step away from the coffin.  It’s not quite a limp, but something is causing her to sway and have to compensate as she shifts her weight from one leg to the other.
 
 Spoiler: Heal DC 15 

Most likely, one of Jominda’s legs is some sort of prosthetic.  Good enough to not be immediately obvious in the form of a peg leg or similar, but not good enough to be a perfect replacement for flesh and blood either.
 

 

 “Please, if there is anything left you wish to say to the Professor, don’t let me stand in the way.  I had thought that we would have an open casket so we could see him one last time, but the state of his body . . . they had to . . .”
 
Jominda does not say more, biting her lip and blinking rapidly as tears start to form at the corner of her eyes.

 “Please excuse me.” 

The apothecary shuffles past Kristoph and rapidly makes for the door leading out of the chapel, only to collide with and bounce off of a balding, barrel-chested man who is just entering.  The man easily wraps an arm around Jominda’s waist to keep her from falling, and with similar ease carries her back into the chapel as he enters with a boisterous laugh.

 “Harharhar!  Where do you think you’re going, Jominda!?  The procession hasn’t started yet, and we need at least one pretty face here to lead the Professor’s spirit onwards, else he’ll never leave!  Though I don’t know why we’re burying his body – bit of old, tough meat is exactly what my corpse chowder needs!  Harharhar!” 
 “Put me down you . . . you . . . ridiculous man!” 

The man takes several rapid strides into the chapel, ignoring the series of light slaps Jominda is raining down on his head and shoulder as he goes, until he puts her back down onto the ground beside a pew.  Behind them, a young teenaged boy – the same one posting notices onto the pole outside of town – quietly and respectfully shuffles into the chapel, making the sign of Pharasma with his hands as he does so.  The barrel-chested man looks around at all of you in momentary confusion, clearly trying to place your faces, and then smiles.

 “Ah!  We have some out-of-town visitors here as well!  Welcome to Ravengro, friends, welcome!  I am Zokar Elkarid, owner of the Laughing Demon, the only tavern in town!  After we take care of this bit of sad business, you all must come to the Laughing Demon and refresh yourselves!  We have the best corpse chowder in all of Ustalav, you see, and the perfect accompaniment to wash it all down – liquid ghosts, fresh from the Prison!”
 
Silently behind the man, the boy covers his face with the palm of his hand, and Rufio scowls at the tavern owner.

 “Zokar, please, can you have at least a  little  decorum in church!?  We are  burying  someone today, by the Lady!”
 
 “Yes yes, and I am sure that the Professor would rather we do it with a smile!  After all, tonight he will be feasting in the Hall of the gods, rather than this dreary place, filled with people who want everyone to go around all the time with a serious, moody frown!” 

Now it’s Acolyte Rufio’s turn to cover his face with the palm of his hand, clearly giving up on attempting to convince Zokar.

 “Is Kendra coming soon?  I believe she is the last person we need.” 
 “My son and I did see her coming, far off down the street.  But perhaps she was merely trying to flee from old Gharen!  Harhar, she can outrun his wandering hands but not his eyes!”
 
Now it’s Shandra turn to lecture the barkeep, with similar results.

 “Zokar!  That is a member of the town council you are referring to!” 
 “So?  It is no secret our town councilman likes his ladies, hmm?  The younger the better in his mind too, I think!  Harharhar!”
 
(OOC:  Next DM we will be moving on to the actual funeral, I think, although certainly I can have some mini-updates for conversation with the oddball barkeep or anyone else present if PCs are interested in such.)


 
 Spoiler: Jominda Fallenbridge 

Paizo does not have a portrait for poor Jominda, so I had to go find a rough substitute for her.  This is reasonably close to my mental picture of her.

 
 

 
 Spoiler: Zokar Elkarin 

 
 
Gyrfalcon
Aaron brightens as Jominda introduces herself.  "Given your acquaintance with Professor Lorrimor, I take it that I might purchase spell reagents from you if needed?"  the mage asks, aware that in magic-fearing Ustalav, reagent sellers are sometimes few and far between, and a wise mage can best establish sources where he can.

The young man is sharp enough to catch the undercurrent of Jominda's lie, and makes a note that he should approach the Sheriff obliquely to find out his story for why he frequents her shop. Perhaps the man is courting her, and doing so so badly that she herself wasn't aware of it.

 "Speaking of poultices, might you have suggestions for curing the after affects of stirge bites? We were beset on the way into town, and myself and several others were bitten and drained by the horrible things." 

Aaron blinks at Zokar, the ebullient man's demeanor far more cheerful than most other people's. The Ustalavian gallows humor is on full display as he mentions corpse chowder and liquid ghosts, both far more harmless than their names might suggest. (Well, the ghosts might be outright moonshine, in which case they were a serious threat to one's stomach).
DarkOne-Rob
Kristoph is about to continue speaking with Miss Fallenbridge when she and Councilwoman Shandra begin arguing. With a bit of common sense the handsome man stays out of the spat, content to listen and watch quietly. With a stoicism born of many,  many  confusing interactions with those around him Kristoph is about to shrug and settle in to carry the coffin when the bartender bursts into the chapel. With a smirk he cannot quite stop appearing on his face the Pharasman knight listens to the jovial - and  dark  humored - man speak with a natural appreciation for his way of thinking.

" A bit of affection could be good to remind the mourners of the good of this life...as long as the ladies aren't  too  young, " he says in response to Zokar's last quip, with a jolly sound to his voice that makes it unmistakable that he appreciates the man's jokes. " I think I will be coming by after the service to see your establishment, good sir! Perhaps a round of drinks could lead to a nice, healthy wake for our dearly departed friend? What do you think - one round on the house, and then I will cover the next? " he asks before remembering that he's currently broke. " Well, perhaps I can work off the cost of the drinks, anyway... " he laughs self-depricatingly.
Farmerbink
Elian is quite too self-conscious to notice anything the slightest bit untoward about Jominda's explanation, though he offers her and Kristoph a pleasant smile as they converse of their mutual acquaintance.  He frowns thoughtfully as she looks to make her exit, but finds himself suddenly laughing out loud in amusement As Elkarid enters, and does so  loudly. 

" Ah, finally another kindred spirit in this dreary town! " Elian gasps, striding forward to greet the man eagerly.  The lithe man's hand almost disappears outright in a friendly handshake as he inclines his head to the offer.  " I will certainly stop by, " he agrees, " as soon as Miss Lorrimor is quite seen-to.  If I may be so bold, I think we've all been caught up in what may be the good Professor's final puzzle, and other than soothing his daughter's loss, I'll be quite glad of some meat, mead, and smiles before the night is through! "

An appreciative glance for Kristoph's apparent shared interest earns a surprising nod of approval from the pale man as he amicably chats with the tavern owner to await Kendra's arrival.