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Post by comicsans12pt on Aug 3, 2011 21:31:00 GMT -4
Solaz quickly puts on her studded leather armor, her robe, adjusts her scimitar and re-ties the scarf around her head. She bends her head for just a second in thanks to Serenrae for bringing her to this place and helping her complete this task. She starts toward the door and at the last moment grabs her wooden holy symbol. It slips smoothly into her pocket as she closes the door behind her. She stops at the barkeep to make payment for several nights. Might as well get this done since it looks to be a long night. When she reaches the street, she looks around and sees a few people heading in one direction. She falls in line and begins the Liturgy for the Journey to the Homelands in her head. Just then, like an unwelcome guest, a tavern tune breaks into her head and she cannot but sing to herself a ditty about a lusty woman, a wandering dwarf and why you should never leave your goat alone in a Varisian tavern*. She smiles to herself- a great ditty that. Once the song plays out, she returns to the liturgy trying to regain the solemness she had attained before. Rest Professor, she says to herself and to the Professor wherever he is, rest and let whatever silliness you've been involved be at rest as well. She spots someone who must be Elkarid and his son and follows them to the temple. *Words can be found pathfinderadventure.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=spooooooooooooooky&thread=95
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Post by little on Aug 3, 2011 22:25:29 GMT -4
The young soldier, Reto, traveled overland from the capital to Ravengro as quickly as he could. Despite never really knowing the Professor, he didn't want to miss the Professor's journey into the next life since the man had requested he be there.
Reto, riding his horse, Willow, turned a few heads as he made his way into the community. The long blonde hair and brightly coloured clothes quickly identified Reto as anything but an average traveler, but he didn't have time to notice any stares from the townsfolk. He could see a small stream of people beginning to flow in one direction, and knew without speaking to anyone, that he was just in the nick of time. Reto made his way to the first building that looked like a stable, quickly dismounted and handed the stable boy the reigns to Willow and a gold piece, telling the lad he would return very soon.
"Just 'ere fer the Professor then?" he asks.
"I believe so. I'll return shortly."
Reto gave his steed a pat before racing as quickly as he could to join the gathering crowd.
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Post by Veritas on Aug 4, 2011 9:54:36 GMT -4
The crowd isn't so much of a crowd as it is a smattering of people heading towards the northern bridge, which seems to be slightly closer to the Temple of Pharasma. A woman steps from the apothecary and closes the door, after turning the sign to closed. Two elderly gentlemen leave the town hall and start for the bridge. Across the river, a woman in her twenties steps out of a stately, yet small and modest house, holding a handkerchief to her eyes.
As you walk, you pass a small collection of girls, five of them, dressed in shawls and dresses, much as any Varisian female would be. They're skipping rope at a quick beat, which is a hint brash when compared to the somber mood the day has taken upon. They are even singing a skip-rope song as they switch places and watch people move by.
"Down and down and down they go With the Professor's coffin in their hands Down and down and down they go All of them going to the Restlands Dig and dig and dig they do Making a hole for his final stay Dig and dig and dig they do Leaving him where there's no day Pray and pray and pray they say Sprinkle holy water along his mound Pray and pray and pray they say Say rites to keep 'em in the ground"
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Post by `Nessa on Aug 4, 2011 10:05:05 GMT -4
Chouko begins to become visibly distressed as she watches the indifference of most of the community. It wasn't right, not in her mind. Even the children show utter disrespect for the man she was sent to honor! "I don't understand," she says slowly, to no one in particular. "He was one of them, and they do not seem to care. All life, no matter how small, is worthy of respect. All life is precious, and the loss of it is a tragedy. Why do they not care?"
She coaxes Ping down from her shoulders as she walks with a morsel of bread and cradles in creature in her arms, working her fingers in his fur. He chews, swallows, and resigns himself to the contact.
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Post by Juniper on Aug 4, 2011 10:59:02 GMT -4
Calaera raises an eyebrow at the rest of the inn's custom. The old man she remembers was a bit absentminded perhaps, and focussed on his research. Mayhap he didn't have many dealings with the townspeople. She could see him remaining buried in his dusty old scrolls and parchments. Still, he was a well-known man, and it seems strange that none would honor his passing even for political gain.
She tucks the loaf of bread into her belt pouch, shrugging her shoulders at the weight of her armor. She'd hoped for time to change and clean up - it seems awkward to bring weapons to a funeral but she hasn't had time to dump her own gear. She flips the boy a coin to bring her saddlebags to her room but the armor and sword take coordination to unbuckle. Pouring the water down her throat in one long gulp she drops the empty mug onto the table with a clatter and hotfoots out of the inn to catch up to Navene.
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logan
Junior Member
Posts: 74
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Post by logan on Aug 6, 2011 19:38:51 GMT -4
Fin is confused by the mixed reactions of the townsfolk. A slightly uneasy feeling washes over him as he follows close to Elkarid. "Perhaps not everyone is sad to see him go... But a man of such great repute would usually have a much bigger ceremony...." he thought to himself.
His thoughts were broken as he notices others are following Elkarid.. as the group approaches the great temple.
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Post by Juniper on Aug 7, 2011 10:20:16 GMT -4
The song the children sing sends a chill up the back of Calaera's neck. "Rites to keep him in the ground," she repeats to herself, then shoots a dark look at Navene to see if she heard. What had the old man been reading in all those libraries she gave him access to? What kind of a place is this that children could make light of such fears?
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Post by Veritas on Aug 7, 2011 11:28:48 GMT -4
Together, the small group flows across the river, towards the Temple of Pharasma that overlooks the town of Ravengro - a calming influence to the west, compared to the ominous, ever-looming remnant of Harrowstone Prison to the south. Even so, the village of over 300 souls has previous few moving to the Temple.
When the group of people arrives at the temple, they find the doors opened. Within are nothing more than rows of pews, some tapestries with the spiral of Pharasma upon it, and an altar at the end. Before the altar is a finely crafted coffin of darker wood, polished lovingly by the talented craftsman who made it. No priest is in sight.
Towards the front moves the woman in her twenties. With darker hair, a slightly longer nose, and wider, almost protrudant eyes (made red by the tears flowing slowly from them), it is obvious this is a relation to the professor, likely his daughter, Kendra Lorrimor. She is sobbing, quietly, as she looks to the small gathering of people. She does not seem surprised.
"As...as is the tradition of this village, my father would like to be carried to his..his...f-final rest...by his friends. Who...who will help to carry him?"
The coffin is lined with two brass handrails, and it would take at least four people to move it comfortably; perhaps as many as six.
...this thread continues in Part I.i - The Last Will and Testament of Petros Lorrimor.
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