Part I.ii. - Crimes Not Forgotten

[Juniper]

Calaera wolfs down the last bite of her sandwich and thanks Kendra with a little bow before running upstairs herself. She comes back down in about fifteen minutes with her sword belted to her side. When she meets Fin at the door she pulls the wide, heavy blade out a little way to show the elf a bit of superficial damage about a third of the way down, where the edge has lost its keenness. "I deliberately gripped my whetstone the wrong way and set to," she explains in a voice that will not travel. "Hated doing it, but now we've a pretext for the visit."

[logan]

Fin looked down at the blade and observes this modification.

"Well, I guess having some business there might make her less suspicious of us. Good thinking."

Fin steps down off the stone door step and begins to follow the pathway leading from the residence to the heart of the town where the smith is.

The morning air is crisp and if there is any breeze, it can hardly be felt.

"'Tis a nice day, certainly feels less ominous than yesterday did." remarks Fin, "I think that after visiting the smith... we should stop by town hall. I know they won't be eager to help us, but I think with your diplomacy, we stand the best chance of the group to get somewhere. Your friend Navene... she doesn't make such a good first impression on the folks around here."

[Veritas]

By the time Fin and Calaera depart the Lorrimor place, the sun has risen over the eastern plains, and the mist surrounding the town has faded in the growing warmth of the mid-Pharast day. It's almost the equinox, and the days are starting to show it. Trees have not yet began to bud, nor has the hay in the fields started to grow, but soon it will be properly spring.

Walking north to the town, the two of them pass a post; these have been noticed earlier, and have a series of missives nailed to them. One of those missives explains that "The funeral of Petros Lorrimir will occure when all parties named in his will so gather." Another details that the next election will be taking place on Midsummer. There are other nails and spikes driven into the post, and some minor, unimportant pieces of paper are attached (reminders of birthdays, anniversaries, and one wedding coming up on 30th Pharast).

The town itself is not busy; though Ravengro has the capacity to handle some traffic, there are few people bustling about, and all of them are locals. As they see Fin and Calaera enter the main square, they immediately avert their eyes. There is little sound of discussion; the only really noticable noise is the constant patter of a skipping rope on stones near the north-end of the square, where five young girls in shawls and skirts are playing again with their skip-rope.

Ravengro Forge is immediately to the left as the two enter the square, and from within the rhythmic sound of a hammer falling onto steel can be heard. Smoke bellows from two thick stacks over the well-kept building, hanging low in the still-heavy morning air and creating a pall over the village, before it drifts up and to the west lazily towards the Restlands.

[Juniper]

Calaera snorts with stifled laughter, a sound that isn't entirely in disagreement with Fin. "Navene is...Navene is good. Really good. The sort that would make most people uncomfortable even if she didn't hold them to high standards. I love her dearly, but sometimes she needs someone like me to deal with all of those who fall short. I will never be the kind of woman she is, though, and sometimes I wonder how she maintains her willingness to put up with me."

She pauses as they approach the forge, breathing deeply of the scent of hot metal and smoke. She is no weaponsmith herself, but she has spent a great deal of time in places like this, and the familiarity is soothing. She doesn't wait to see whether Fin is following here, but she can feel his presence at her back as she steps through the open doors, to blink in the dim light of the shop. She looks around her, taking in the organized bustle of the business as she looks for whoever seems to be in charge.

Perception: [dice=20]+7[rand=9564536821785787604721513154720740112408515498819671330390337965]

[logan]

Fin glances behind himself as he follows Calaera in to the building, to make sure that nothing suspicious is happening immediately behind him. Fin follows Calaera in and moves out of the doorway.

Immediately Fin notices the temperature increase, as the heat from the forge is spilling out. Fin pauses, knowing that Calaera has brought some kind of business that would allow her to lead the conversation.

[Veritas]

The smithy is lain out in an open concept. Racks and wall-mounts show off tools, farming implements, buckets of nails, and the other essentials for day-to-day farm living. Carefully crafted hooks sit on a small desk that doubles as a sales' table, along with a collection of metal utensils, knives, and two daggers. Near the back of the smithy you can see a few different sets of armour on stands, and three racks of weapons - swords, polearms, and hammers most of all, but with a few different weapons mingled in.

The very back of the smithy is dominated by the two hearths that are kept fired by a shovel, near an ingenious slot in the wall from whence more coal can be recovered. Between both hearths is an anvil, over which an aging dwarven woman is labouring, her hammer rising and falling with slow strokes at a heated piece of metal that has been forged into a flat, slightly pointed, spade's head. She looks up when the door opens.

"Welcome," she says in a gruff, not-exactly-welcoming voice.

[joviality]

Navene helps put things away and clean up with Kendra and Solaz. She then goes up to the room she was staying in and dons her armor and gets her things. This takes only a few minutes, and Solaz is waiting for her when she exits the building.

The two of them then head off in the direction of their first stop, the cache of undead-fighting tools that the professor mentioned. On the way, Navene makes small talk with Solaz, speaking of religion and worship, and the differences and similarities between their two faiths.

[`Nessa]

Chouko very quickly grabs something from the table before it can be cleared away and wolfs it down hungrily. Seeing that clean up is well in hand, she heads for the book shelves to begin searching.

As she pulls books down from the shelf, Ping clambers down from her shoulder to begin nosing in corners of the room.[rand=282178311603639931541016390565195206027769028993998653893788557029]

[Veritas]

Solaz and Navene start for the Restlands, to the north and across the river; it is faster to cross the bridge to the west of the Lorrimor Place and follow the road past the Temple of Pharasma.

As they walk, surely the words from the Professor's journal must pass through their minds. "Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items."

The professor's luck may have held through the false crypt, but had not held for long. The day on the west-side of the river is quiet, as are the Restlands. A single grave-digger is working on the far side of the cemetery, cleaning a recent grave - and no, it's not the professor's.

The crypt in question is easy enough to find, though it is in the middle of the Restlands, visible to any who look in this direction.

[logan]

Fin looks at the smith. "Hello." he chimes, waiting for Calaera to take the lead and get her blade tended.

Fin looks around, pretending to be interested in some of the weapons on display.

[comicsans12pt]

Solaz looks around with great subtlety and says to Navene, "Perhaps we should reconsider how we do this. This crypt is visible throughout the town and our visitation -and especially if we try to get in- is likely to give the townsfolk reason to, um, discuss things."

"Maybe if we simply stop for a prayer, we can get the lay of the land, so to speak, and see if Father Grimbarrow can help us figure out how best to see what's in there."

Solaz has been spinning on the walk over to the Restlands. Now, she hangs her spindle on her belt and moves the wool into a secret pocket. She then stands up slightly straighter checking that her scimitar is in place and ready should the need arise.

"What do you think, dear?"

[joviality]

Navene keeps walking, but changes her course ever so slightly so that she is headed toward the Professor's grave, clearly intending for Solaz to follow her.

"I agree," she says, not skipping a beat. Things are too public at the moment. Perhaps we should simply visit the Professor's grave for a few prayers and a brief look around, then be on our way back down the road to the temple? I would have liked to visit his grave anyway."

She glances down at Solaz, who has stopped spinning. They then head off in the direction of the professor's grave.

When they arrive, Navene bows her head, facing in the direction of the crypt. She then whispers a sincere prayer about the absolution of Petros' sins, and her hope for his happiness in the world beyond. Finished with her prayer, Navene looks up and scans the area near the crypt, looking for anything different or out of place.

Perception: [dice=20]+7[rand=064942687284201388369487072341144040808944962918768813415938057005]

[Veritas]

The day continues quietly. At the Restlands, the gravedigger continues his work, barely noticing the arrival of two mourners for the recently-rested. Lorrimor's grave is carefully, professionally made, with a simple headstone proclaiming his years of life and an inscription written in the common script, but not in the common tongue.

Navene's eyes look to the old crypt; it is clearly one of the oldest buildings here, but from this distance, little can be seen about it.

[Juniper]

Calaera pulls her sword from its sheath with a ring of steel and casts a sheepish look at the blacksmith as she hands the heavy blade over, hilt first. "I'm afraid I did this myself. I wasn't paying attention and whetted down the edge instead of honing it. Zokar Elkarid, the tavernkeeper, recommended your work."

As the smith takes the sword, Calaera eyes the bustle of the workshop with open approval. "I can see that he was right. I haven't seen a shop this fine since I left the house of my fathers. In fact the whole town seems lovely. You must be proud of it...have you lived here all your life?"

[Veritas]

The female dwarf steps over towards Calaera and Fin, nodding to the latter, her grey eyes roaming over his mottled face but lingering on the points of his ears for a moment, before switching to the human woman. Her strong, calloused hand reaches out to take the sword, and she grunts, looking it up and down. "I can fix this. It will cost you six silver to have it re-edged."

Her head turns away as Calaera begins speaking, and then she shakes her head for a moment. "It is a forge, nothing more or less. The town is a town, nothing more or less." When the question about her past is posed, she looks back, and then raises an eyebrow. "Would it make a difference to how I fix your sword if I have?"