Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Carrion Crown Session 1

Session 1
DUNGEON MASTER: Numerous small towns dot the fog-shrouded landscape of Ustalav. At first glance, these towns might all seem kindred spirits—cozy collections of quaint buildings surrounded by farmland, their skylines decorated by the steeples of Pharasmin churches or the steep rooflines of colorful taverns. Yet in Ustalav, appearances are often deceiving...
DUNGEON MASTER: Trim and attractive, Kendra Lorrimor greets you with a mixture of curiosity, sadness, and relief as you arrive with a few others at the entrance to the Restlands--the name the citizens of Ravengro have given to their local cemetery.  The woman's eyes are red and puffy and she dresses in dark, conservative clothes.  On a cart nearby sits  fine, black coffin decorated with leafy flower arrangements.
DUNGEON MASTER: Besides yourselves, only a small handful of villagers are attending the funeral procession--all of them looking very sombre and with few words to spare for strangers.
DUNGEON MASTER: "Thank you for being here," Kendra says at last, when it is evident no more will arrive.  "I guess no one else is coming to pay their respects to my father... with things the way they are in town these days...."<!--more-->
DUNGEON MASTER: Kendra's voice is throaty as she continues.  "I--need... some of you to help carry my father to rest.  Will any of you volunteer to serve as pallbearers?"
Solar: Solar steps forward and says " Dear Kendra, I wil offer my services, I would be honoured to take part
Johan bows his head slightly as he replies, "I will help as well. My condolences to you."
DUNGEON MASTER: A third man steps silently forward--his head is covered with a main of blonde hair, and his blue eyes sparkle.  Without speaking a word, he moves toward the forward right of the casket and takes hold, as though preparing to lift it up.
Johan: Johan moves to the front of the polished wood casket, gesturing to Mesodias to take the rear. He carefully takes the handles before slowly lifting it to his shoulders, waiting for the weight to be distributed before proceeding.
Solar: Solar moves in behind Johan and assits in the middle as best he can
DUNGEON MASTER: "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart," says Kendra softly.
DUNGEON MASTER: As if galvinazed by her words, three other funeral attendees silently step forward and take their places beside the casket.  Together, the six of you heave the thing up, and set out through the gates of the deadlands.
Solar: "My pleasure my lady"
DUNGEON MASTER: [*restlands!]
Johan: Johan slowly marches with the casket on his shoulders. The look and sorrow bearing a bruden not only on the slightly hunched shoulders of Kendra, but also the look in her eyes as she watches her father taken to his final resting place.
DUNGEON MASTER: The cemetary called the restlands is comprised of several acres surround a small hill, at the peak of which stands a squat gray-stoned crypt.  As it is late afternoon, there is a slight wind blowing around autumn leaves and whispering through the grass at the feet of the headstones.
DUNGEON MASTER: The air is quiet--it is not the tradition of these people to sing dirges to their dead apparently.  Only the crunching of dirt and leaves underfoot can be heard.
DUNGEON MASTER: Rounding a corner onto a dirt path called the Eversleep, you see that the way ahead blocked by a group of a dozen surly looking farmers.
DUNGEON MASTER: The tallest of these, an elderly but wiry man, speaks out— “That’s far enough. We been talking, and we don’t want Lorrimor buried in the Restlands. You can take him upriver and bury him there if you want, but he ain’t goin’ in the ground here!”
DUNGEON MASTER: Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into anger. “What are you talking about?” she cries out. “I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He’s waiting for us! The grave’s already been...”
DUNGEON MASTER: [The farmers look pretty stout--it's clear tha some of them at least really do mean business.  They are "armed" with farming implements--shovels, pitchforks, hoes, and the like.]
Solar: Solar quitely suggests to the pallbears to gently put the coffin down in case there is a scene
DUNGEON MASTER: “You don’t get it, woman. We won’t have a necromancer buried in the same place as our kin. I suggest you move out while you still can. Folk are pretty upset about this right now.”
Johan: A cold shiver runs down Johan's spine as he sees the expanse of the headstones, a clear reminder to his own mortality. Johan raises his head as he focused on taking each step at a time to observe the farmers who were disrespecting the dead. Johan will carefully lower the coffin to the ground as he keeps an eye out for any sign of aggression from the farmers.

Sense Motive check: 1d20+4 = 10
Solar: Solar says gently but firmly to the crowd that "Lorrimor was not a Necromancer, he was a learned man of knowledge.  He protected others from evil and shared how to overcome it good friend Friend.  Had you ever spoken to the him?"
Solar: Diplomacy: 1d20+1=20
DUNGEON MASTER: "Aye, and my crops were bad for four years after!" replies the wiry old man indignatly.
DUNGEON MASTER: However, the words seem to have had an effect on the others.  "THat was on account of you spent those four years in the Laughin' Demon instead of working her," taunts one of his companions.
DUNGEON MASTER: "Come on, Gibs," says another.  "These folk mean business, and Kendra's got some of her dad's knack, from what I hear."  He gestures toward the woman, who appears about to launch into a tirade.
The man named Gibs glowers, and several of the other dirty-faced farmers murmur their discontent, but all step aside to form a pathway for the procession to continue through.
Solar: "Thank you Gentleman, how you treat the dearly departed and the greaving they leave behind is a clear sign of a mans mesure, you are truely good men"
Solar: "Shall we contine my friends" says Solar as he reaches down to lift up the coffin once more>
Johan: Johan bites his tongue to avoid saying something that would only serve to aggrevate the farmers. He wastes no time in resuming to lift the casket and continue on their way to the eversleep.
DUNGEON MASTER: The men's knuckles are white on their farming tools.  They do no depart, but neither do they attack as the procession moves forward through the gap in the crowd. 
Solar: Solar perception check 1d20=3
DUNGEON MASTER: The procession leaves the crowd behind and continues forward on the dirt path to the plot Kendra purchased for her father.  The coffin is set gently down, and the black-shrouded gravediggers perform the morbid task of lowering of the mortal remains of Petros Lorrimor into the open grave.
Presently, a pale, wretched-looking priest steps forward and offers a small sermon, praising the man Lorrimor for his work and admonishing all to serve Pharasma so that they too may pass peacefully into the afterlife.
DUNGEON MASTER: Then Kendra steps forward.  Fighting back tears, she thanks everyone once again for coming.  Then, drawing a roll of parchment, she reads aloud:
DUNGEON MASTER: "My father was hardworking, strong, and determined.   He loved me and was deeply devoted to my mother while she was alive." 
DUNGEON MASTER: "However, he was no saint.  As a child I and my mother were accustomed to visitors from every walk of life stopping by our house at all hours.  Sometimes he would disappear, for months at a time, on his "research".  But this did not matter to me, because he was my father and he showed us the same devotion to me as he did to his work."
DUNGEON MASTER: "My father showed strength and and determination right up to the end of his life.  I hope that one day, when I die, my children can look back, smile, and talk about how I put them above everything else.  And how I tried to make a difference."
DUNGEON MASTER: She ends her speech with a sudden sob.  "I- I will miss him," she repeats.  There is an awkward silence.  Tears stream down her face as she looks around the assembled group, silently indicating that others may speak if they wish.

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