Carrion Crown
This is a support page for Morbus Iff's Pathfinder Carrion Crown Adventure Path.
Contents
Player characters
Player handouts
I WILL NOT be including the Paizo-provided in-game handouts. I WILL be including those handouts I cobbled together myself.
Session summaries
#01: May 24th, 2012
- "Funeral March" by Spooky Sounds
- Funeral by -Delirium- (deleted from SoundCloud)
Arriving at Ravengro to attend the funeral of Professor Lorrimor, a man who has named each of you in his last will, you meet his daughter Kendra and volunteer as replacement pallbearers for the original villagers that never showed. As the procession starts, you’re interrupted by Gibs Hephenus and a group of angry locals, adverse to the idea of a “necromancer” fouling their sacred cemetery. After some choice words they attack, though their ineptness and desire to subdue, not harm, is painfully clear. You’re able to deal with the villagers soundly and safely, but not before Kendra is accidentally hit in the melee. She’s bleeding from her head, but recovering groggily. Councilman Vashian Hearthmount, a mourner who hid during the scuffle, now accuses the PCs of deliberately attacking her.
#02: May 31st, 2012
With Councilman Hearthmount temporarily soothed by Kendra’s plea to finish her father’s final journey, the funeral procession continues without further consequence. Kendra tries to maintain her composure during her eulogy but fails, and asks for others to offer their own memories (below). The funeral trails off like a whisper, and the characters arrive at Kendra’s house for the reading of the last will and testament. She answers a few questions, then excuses herself to clean up before Councilman Hearthmount arrives. Four cards have been drawn from an old Harrow deck found in the Professor’s belonging, and the night grows ever deeper.
- Felan Ironcart (John): Felan gives Kendra a smile as he walks up, trying to be reassuring. He usually is. He absently brushes the front of his coat as he stands in front of the gathering. Felan is not an unusually sized man, although he looks a little academic, albeit a well groomed one. He's a man who takes care of his appearance, and looks fairly striking because of it. "I had left our camp for the night to forage for food when I heard cries and combat, and returning found the Professor holding off a pair of goblins trying to get at the children while three others were attacking the father. Happily, with my own assistance, we were able to fight off the beasts with no much harm to our travelling companions, although the Professor did end up with a minor cut, which he refused to have looked at until the others had been tended to. Sadly, I haven't had the pleasure of spending much more time with him since then, but his example was indeed something I remember."
- Ezekial Blackcrane (Max): "I'm afraid that I didn't know the professor very well. I was his bodyguard for a few times, although I will say that we never did too much together. Simple adventures. We were attacked by wolves once. Mostly I just stood guard outside while he did important things that I didn't ask about. If you don't mind my saying so, when I got the summons to the funeral, I had assumed that this was a job. That I would be moving chairs. I did move a coffin I suppose. But it was a surprise to be an honored guest. I didn't know the professor very well, but on the last job, he took a shine to me. Or so it seemed. He told me that I had a future, and it wasn't something I hear very much. He was a kind man, and I'll miss him."
- Karas Fyren (Gabe): Karas steps up to the podium, moving with smooth, silent steps. Karas is a tall, slim man with dark hair down past his shoulder and striking blue eyes. He's dressed in soft leather armor that's been dyed black and that fastens with silver buckles. When he speaks, his voice is a little quiet, but very even. Reserved, one might call it. "I only met the Professor once, but his help was...well, invaluable. He helped me to save countless lives from the ravages of vampiric suffering and death. I owe him a great debt for that; I suspect I'm not the only one who does. He helped without reservation, and for the greater good. His passing is a loss to the world--but we're richer for having known him."
- Leota (Thomas): Leota steps up in front of the gathered attendants. Pushing back the hood of her cloak, her dark brown hair falls past her shoulders, violet eyes clouded with memory. She stands a moment before her attention seemingly returns to the present. Taking a deep breath, she begins. “Among my people, there is little respect or honor for any who are not Sczarni. In many ways, our reputations are well-deserved. But Professor Lorrimor is a man worthy of respect; even the Sczarni knew that. However, there did exist a time before he earned our respect, and in that time, he was seen much the same as the rest: another target. I am almost ashamed to say that my only encounter with the Professor came about as a successful kidnapping. It was nearly twenty years ago, and I was still a young girl. At the time, I was very sick, and there were none who could cure me. I do not know how long we held him, but I know that his was the first face I saw when I awoke with clear vision and a head no longer filled with fevered nightmares. It was the Professor who revealed to me that I was…different. He taught me of my connection to the spirits, and how to control it. All this, he did as our captive, and for that, he earned his freedom, and the respect of my people.” As she finishes, a crow alights from a branch onto her shoulder.
- Modstrom Boltbyte (Marc): "We'll have to have a chat afterwards Leota, since we have a similar and amazing story. I was in a dark place, still am if you ask me wife. In fact, that place was so dark, I didn't know who were my friends and who were my foes. I felt something strong inside me. Something different. For a long time I rejected it, and it ruined my life. Until I met the professor. He taught me the importance of harnessing my ability. And now I'm an Oracle. I still don't like it, but I accept it as my calling. For that I'll be eternally grateful to the prof. But boy was he pushy with the preaching. Hah."
#03: June 21st, 2012
Councilman Hearthmount arrives on time to read Lorrimor’s final will and testament, which details two impositions for the assembled. First, to watch over Kendra for a month and help her affairs get in order. Then, to deliver a chest full of dangerous books to the University of Lepidstadt. In exchange, you’ll each receive 100 platinum pieces from Embreth Daramid, one of the Professor’s trusted friends at the University. When Kendra brings out the chest which is now your ward, a candle is attached with a note that says merely “You, Modstrom”. Inside is the promised collection of rare tomes, as well as the Professor’s journal, of which a few entries have been circled in red ink, clearly meant for you to find. With many questions still buzzing, you retire for the night... only to awaken to a clamor in the Town Square a distance away. It seems the Harrowstone Memorial has been defaced with blood, and a “V” has been scrawled at its base. As Ezekial, Karas, and Modstrom sneak off to find the false crypt mentioned in the Professor’s journal, Leota and Felan remain at the Memorial to try and find out more of current events.
#04: July 5th, 2012
Leota and Felan continue to question the villagers as they help clean the travesty forced upon the Harrowstone Memorial. Ezekial, Karas, and Modstrom find the Church of Pharasma’s false crypt in the Restlands, where they discover that the outer lock has been burnt away by some sort of acid, and footsteps indicate a recent villager. As they examine the large sarcophagus in the center of the tomb, two giant centipedes, alerted by the sound of the stone coffin scraping open, scuttle into the chamber and attack. Easily vanquished, attention returns to the contents of the hidden cache. Inside is a fair amount of useful looking things - dozens of arrows, yellow rods with suns and flares engraved in them, vials and flasks, scrolls and a thin darkwood case decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back.