Helaman's Play By Post Carrion Crown

A letter home

25th of Pharast, 4714

Dear Adrian,

Once again, I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write to you once more. I realize that the contents of my last letter were very vague and probably very upsetting to read – and believe me, I would have written you much, much sooner if I could have. A great many things have happened since I last wrote you and now that I have a few moments, I will try and catch you up on all that has occurred over the past few weeks.

You will remember from my last letter I mentioned that there were dark forces at work in Ravengro and that it was suspected by myself and the other beneficiares of Professor Lorrimor’s will that his death was not accident, but murder. Our worst fears were confirmed – the Professor did indeed meet his end at the hands of a sinister group, a group that is rumored to consort with the dead and engage in foul witchcraft and necromancy. No, I won’t name them in this letter, as I have reason to suspect that they may be keeping track of the activities of myself and my companions, even now. Suffice it to say, they are very dangerous and silenced the Professor when he stumbled upon one of their plots.

What plot, you might ask? Much to our frustration, we are still not entirely sure. What we do know is that they approached the burned-out remains of Ravengro’s old Harrowstone prison and performed some sort of rite that stirred the spirits of criminals slain when the prison burned. These spirits then went on to terrorize the town by various means – unsettling dreams, possession, and even directly attacking the local town hall, setting it ablaze with ghostly flames! I know you likely think that I am engaging in some sick jest, but I swear to you that these things happened! I saw them with my own eyes, as did my companions and the citizens of Ravengro. Since you are reading this, you know that I am obviously alive and well, as of the date of this letter. With much relief, I can say that while there are some things that are still unclear regarding these events, I and my companions were ultimately able to put the restless spirits of Harrowstone to rest, though not without paying with our blood and with human lives. Vigilance Hall, the man of questionable heritage was slain by a local man possessed and one Deputy Leromar lost his life in the unholy fire that enguled Ravengro’s town hall.

Now, with Harrowstone quiet and no lingering signs of the group that I will not name, my companions and I bide our time as we fulfill the last request of the good Professor Lorrimor and aid his daughter Kendra in settling her affairs in Ravengro. My time here has undoubtedly been one of the strangest times in my life, as well as one of the most terrifying. However, they do say that every cloud has a silver lining, right? I have grown to count the other beneficiaries of the Professor’s will as my friends, though two of them – Lament and Nighteyes – were forced to leave Ravengro before events were settled. Though I do miss them, even the taciturn and surly elf, we were joined by two new faces – Emmett Escheus, member of the town watch and Nalun Phlithmira, elven student and performer. I have no doubt that without their aid, Father Toth, Simeon and myself would not have been able to put things right in Ravengro.

I am afraid that I must now bring this letter to a close, as there is still much packing to be done. Very soon my companions and I will make for Lepidstadt, along with Kendra. Once she is settled in, I am not sure what my next steps shall be. Though I miss you, mother, and father very much, I feel that perhaps I could be of more use here than home in Vigil. And to be honest, I find myself loathe to part ways with my companions, as strange and vexing as they can be at times. I suppose time and circumstance will tell where my path lies. Hopefully I will be able to write you again soon, without such a large gap in time. Until then, I pray that the Inheritor watches over you.


The Exorcism of Harrowstone

1st of Pharast, 4714
The next morning we make our final preparations. I pay off my debt to Jorminda and we visit Father Grimburrow once more. We have two haunt siphons remaining and three spirits to capture: the Lopper, Mosswater Marauder, and Splatterman. I do not know how we shall deal with them all, but at least Father Grimburrow was generous in his donations of holy water.
A storm gathered above as we entered the dark hole and lowest depths of the prison. Flaming skulls welcomed us, but they could not withstand Pharasma’s might. There were three wings of the dungeon below, each with a foreboding name. The way south to ‘Nevermore’ was barred so we went north into the ‘Oubliette’ first. Past more flaming bones, we find our first foe- an axe wielding wraith from a watery grave. It was a very close battle. Emmett suffered greatly, but in the end his axe, blessed by Pharasma and favored by Fate destroyed the wrathful spirit. From the watery pit where the Lopper died, I gained an enhanced crossbow among the other things secreted away.
We made our way back to investigate ‘Reaper’s Hold’. Within we found the Mosswater Marauder. Of the five ghosts, I found that only this aroused something like pity from me. It was not much of a fight. Once again Pharasma’s holy power becalmed the spirit and it lay down without a struggle. Beyond him lay a torture chamber where the warden suffered his last at the hands of his prisoners. It is truly horrible how quickly Fate may turn. Be Ever Wary. An iron maiden gaped wide at me as I did what I could to ease the remains from their desecration upon the rack, but by my faith I resisted. A secret passage was revealed and another way found into ‘Nevermore’.
It was not unguarded, however. An ooze blocked the way and we had no alchemist fire or other substance to do much harm! Fortunately, it moved slowly and my spirit weapon had some effect and Nalun proved his value with his crossbow. Simeon, in his panic threw one of the siphons at it releasing the necromantic energy held within. I do not know what harm it did, but I was certainly unhappy with him. Nonetheless, our final goal was now certainly near.
Another flooded pit and bleeding letter forming upon the wall. We were in the presence of the Splatterman. I was able to ward myself from evil before he could do any lasting harm. Simeon found a very effective tool in tearing the pages from the undead wizard’s spell tome. I’m certain it was very difficult for the lover of arcane and often unsavory knowledge, but I applaud his courage.
We were assailed with arcane bolts and conjured spirits. Nalun seemed nearly caught by his spell. By Pharasma’s grace, I was able to attune my companions’ weapons to touch the spirit world. Nalun recovered and our foe fled though the walls. It returned moments later with another ectoplasmic ally. We continue fighting for our lives. Simeon uses a haunt siphon, but the Splatterman is not yet weak enough. It has some effect though and Emmett, nearly mad from the horror, vanquishes the ghost with a ferocious chop from the attuned executioner’s axe. Perhaps much pain could have been avoided if that blow had come decades earlier. I cannot say. Fate only determines what will be.
We returned the Warden’s remains to his wife. She will continue to guard whatever remains of the villainous spirits until they all must face Pharasma at last.

Father Toths journal of events from the 29th and 30th
Dark Days in Ravensgro

The Revelation of Vesoriana
29 Calistral, 2014.

I’ll have to backtrack a few days to fill in my notes. Much has happened.

Spending the night in vigil with the newcomers has warmed me to them. Certainly, new allies are needed with the sudden departure of Nighteyes and Lament. And of course, the loss of Vigilance. Emmett is a local and perhaps as skilled in weaponry as Nighteyes while thankfully not as given to strange moods as the elf. Nalun is of elf-blood, but only partly and a poet/musician somewhat like Lament though he seems more introspective than the halfling.

With Vigilance’s burial scheduled for later in the day, we decided to make another foray into Harrowstone. Further delays only allow more mischief from the haunts. We stopped briefly at Jorminda’s shop for additional supplies. She seemed miserable, but I’ll not engage in gossip.

This day’s investigation of Harrowstone was particularly enlightening as we quickly encountered Vesorianna, the lost warden’s wife whose name Gibbs, or perhaps the Splatterman in possession of the wretch, has been ominously scribbling upon the cenotaph by the river. The visitation was not without negative effects. Particularly, the old local, Emmett, and I were quite shaken by her revelations. However, she confirmed the hand of the Whispering Way in the murder of Professor Lorrimor and release of the five vile haunts. She has struggled well to contain them after the destruction of her husband’s soul by the death cult, but they threaten to overpower her unless we deal with them quickly.
I must say that I was not at my best for the funeral, but did my duty and saw Vigilance buried. Still feverish, I slept long if not well that night.

All the Dead Arise!
30 Calistral, 2014.

It seems Gibbs’ imprisonment has not stopped the bloody graffiti; fresh blood in a child’s handwriting again upon the memorial this morning. Horribly, the Splatterman continues his vile work. In all the excitement, I had not marked the day, but even more blasphemy- it was Sunday. We were delayed from Harrowstone by the service, but perhaps fate provided that the familiar ceremonies did calm me some and restore my resolve shaken by the recent terrible events. Father Grimburrow provided a brief augury which suggested that some of the artifacts of the Mad Five which were recovered might be used against them.

A return to Harrowstone and exploration of the upper storey surprisingly turned up the remains of the Charlatan identified by the chains hung with the blasphemous symbols as Fate had revealed to me in my dreams. His insidious spirit made no sign of its presence however, until the frightful piping of his damned companion began, the Piper of Illmarsh. The dire dirge animated the dry bones of the many dead prisoners left to rot in their cells granting them the opportunity to exact their revenge on the living. Of all the dead arrayed against us, I am not ashamed to say that the Piper frightened me the most. His paralyzing poisons and feeding pets just… well, I almost succumbed, but Fate and Pharasma preserved me and her holy wrath channeled through me to strike down the undead abominations. In the confusion, the Charlatan tried to take Elidal, but his soul was captured by one of the marvelous haunt siphons. Divine justice, I think, that the heretic’s soul be bound forever in a bottle and separated from the divine that he pretended to worship.
A headman’s axe was also found in the upper level and animated by yet another haunt. It very nearly took its toll upon Nalun and Emmett. However, copious amounts of holy water and another siphon drained its animus thankfully.

Exhausted, yet feeling that we had finally made some headway against the Five Dark Souls that have plagued us, we returned to town. And yet another calamity! The dead of the Restlands had risen en masse and were invading the village. My resources were spent, but I did not have the luxury of retreat. Father Grimburrow and his staff were overrun. We rushed to the cemetery and managed to retrieve him though his Senior Acolyte was lost. We retreated to the town square and fortified it as we could for the onslaught. Fortunately, we had recovered a healing wand and I was able to ease my companions’ wounds and fatigue in time for our last stand.

It is something of a blur. I was so weary; I threw everything I had- fire and holy water. Vigilance’s recently buried corpse had risen as well. He was put down again. I cannot say how much I will relish destroying once and for all, the lost souls arrayed before us, if Fate allows. I do not know how we persevered, but it was not my time; not that night.
One final horror to be recorded: The possessed child was found. The offending spirit was routed with a splash of holy water and the child saved. I do not know what the foolish superstitious locals would have done to here if not for Elidals’ wise words and I did what I could to turn her misfortune into a benison.

A letter to Ednea, my wife...
Sad partings

My dear Wife,

I left this note for you on the table. I woke up before dawn and did not want to wake you. I didn’t sleep well, to be honest. I’m sorry if I missed breakfast, but I had to take some fresh air, and I’ve just been summoned by the Sheriff. I am writing this with the lad waiting for me outside.

As you know, I paid a visit to the newcomers. Strangeness has engulfed the town in a scarf woven out of Varisian madness. I thought it had to do with the strangers, but as it turns out, there is a dark cancer growing from inside. It’s about to take over, and I’ve decided to do something about it.

I don’t think you would approve. Actually, I don’t know. Perhaps this is why I’m writing you instead of telling you… I feel I haven’t been a very good husband these last few years… I can’t really say why, but I don’t know that it will get better…

If something happens to me, know that I’ve left some savings behind the pantry. Know also that you should leave this town. Bring the children with you, and start anew. There is a great darkness in the walls of Harrowstone. I know, because I’ve felt the darkness touch through me. For the first time in my life, I’ve felt the need for Pharasma’s cold cleansing breath. And yet, though my soul has been shattered by madness, I now feel a stronger fervour. An imperative to stand up against it. It’s not for the town, and to be honest, it’s not even for you and the children. I think I have to do this for me…

Be well Ednea. Be safe.

Your husband in this life and the next,


Notes from the dairy of Father Toth
Ill omens and Loss

28 Calistral, 2014.

How quickly the victories of one day sour the next by a turn of fate. I could never recommend this town for anyone seeking just one night of undisturbed rest. This time, the church’s bells resounding through the night. I cannot say that the disturbance was totally unappreciated. At least it ended the nightmares- I dreamt that I was being flagellated by chains bearing my own dear faith’s symbol. A sending from the spectral Charlatan, I surmise.
Father Grimburrow could offer no explanation for the untimely alarm. Only a twisted holy symbol found upon the mantle. I do not think it a coincidence. Upon a hunch, I requested an augury of the relics found hidden away in Harrowstone and found the hammer, pipes, book and all were in fact the treasured possessions of the dead fiends that trouble the town.
Far worse awaited us than loss of sleep this day, however. Another summons from the sheriff. Another pair of bloody letters at the cenotaph and this time the blood was from murdered corpse of Vigilance. I cannot say I was close to the strange man, but he was honorable and committed to our task. His life was cut short by other than fate. Nighteyes quickly tracked the murderer to Gibbs’ shack.

What happened next is something of a blur. Lament sought to intercede I think, to open the door rather than break it down and offer Gibbs the chance to surrender. The madman assaulted her with a vicious razor grievously wounding her instead. I moved to heal her and in a moment it was over. Gibbs fell with his throat slashed in turn by Nighteyes’ great elven khopesh. I do not know if it was the right thing honestly, but I stabilized the man stretching his string a little longer. Nighteyes’ look of anger I won’t forget. I do not know if Gibbs’ actions were influenced by the criminal spirits or merely the work of a spiteful bigot, but I felt it was for the town to judge his mortal fate and I’ll trust in Pharasma to judge his eternal fate.

I should learn not to put so much faith in the public. The council decided to try Gibbs immediately that very day. At least justice is swift here. We had little time to make another attempt at exorcizing the ruins if we were to bear witness at the trial. Perhaps I should have listened to fate that day. It was not to be. We never even entered the place as all the vermin imaginable rallied against us. I returned drained of blood and feeling the first stirrings of despair.

Kendra had guests and I had little to say honestly. My mood by no means improved at the farce of a trial. It was set in the tavern and all in attendance were already drinking. I am certain it would have been another mob scene had I not immediately put an end to it. Lament soothe things. I have grown very fond of the small bard.

I am sorry to say that I botched my testimony, but surprisingly Simeon rallied. I suppose that I should not be so surprised that he is well versed in common law as well as magical law. It seems to have mattered little though; Heathmount made a plea of insanity and Gibbs will live albeit confined to an asylum elsewhere.

It is with a very weary body and soul I conclude these notes tonight to stand watch as is my duty and honor over Vigilance before his burial tomorrow.

From the dairy of Father Toth
Harrowstone, at last

27 Calistral, 2014.

Father Grimburrow has finally signaled his blessing by personally sending a few items to aid in our mission. I cannot say how heartening it is to finally have the local church’s support. The old prison is in ruins as is to be expected after being abandoned fifty years and more. Recent disturbance is frighteningly evident however: bloody runes cover the base of the prison… the work of the Whispering Way no doubt.
Simeon paused to begin an in depth study. Perhaps there would be some value in it, but I am afraid that we do not have the luxury of time. Besides, I find his enthusiastic interest in such things a little unnerving. Of particular note was the repetition of the warden’s name among the occult runes.
Inside, well, to say the ruins are infested with haunts is an understatement. The very structure groans with malevolent intent and violent spirits. Burning brands hurled by the unseen maim Elidal. I would guess from previous scars this was not her first nearly lethal encounter with burning. I find that my conduit to healing energies is inhibited. Perhaps it is the nature of her prior injuries?

Nighteyes spots a concealed panel and within among other confiscated items: an axe, a hammer, a collection of holy symbols, a spellbook and a tarnished flute. We also find a scorched pit in the ground which likely is our access to the burned cells and the remains of the most powerful specters. I could recount all the types of unsettling spirits encountered here, but I am too tired. I feel I must add one more note, however.

When we sought to sell some of the recovered medicines from the old infirmary to Jominda we had a bit of a shock. She paid us with antique coinage clearly from the time of the Lich Tyrant so feared in these lands. I thought nothing of it, but the apothecary reacted strongly to our idle inquiry. It turns out that she has taken a few steps that may tangle her life’s thread. Namely, selling poisons to a mysterious stranger. Nighteyes suspected the stranger might be a vampire, but I am loath to jump to such conclusions. It did however sound like a cultist to me. Regardless, it has unfortunately driven a wedge between Jominda and Kendra.

Father Toth writes more
A Fiery Climax!

26th of Calistril, 4714

This morning was a quiet morning that held no hint of the horrors to come. After breakfast we continued our investigation uncovering more details about the Piper of Illmarsh. Of all the criminals so far, I find him the foulest; only the Splatterman approaches him. The others include a blasphemer and pair of insane killers. All bad enough, but to paralyze your victim and leave them conscious as they are slowly drained of life by those stirge creatures is truly depraved. I can think of only one thing worse… but onto the day’s events.

The town was all gathered for the Council Meeting as evening approached. After yesterday’s events, we are now afforded grudging respect at least- from nearly all but Gibbs anyway. As we ate our supper, yells arose from the square and we rushed out to find a swarm of stirges once again attacking the townsfolk gathered in the square. In the chaos it took me a while to realize that instead of screaming and running as the others, one man was piping all the while as if he were the Piper of Illmarsh himself! Suspecting a type of possession, I called on Pharasma to ward him from evil spirits. Praise the Lady of Graves, this appeared to help and my companions quickly destroyed the flittering stirges summoned by the haunted piping.

Though unwanted, perhaps this series of unfortunate events bolstered our argument at the Council Meeting. I debated Gibbs’ malicious rumors and seemed to have won most of the villagers support when the unthinkable happened- the haunts of Harrowstone turned the Town Hall into a deadly re-enactment of the terrible historic event. Lamps exploded and burning skulls flew through the air to add to the confusion as fire engulfed the meeting. My companions and I fought the flames and attempted to guide the townsfolk to safety. Many had to be dragged out bodily as they fell unconscious in the choking smoke. It was a horrible battle, but eventually the undead were banished and the burning hall extinguished. Sadly, a deputy and farmer were lost. May Pharasma judge them kindly.

With these dramatic events, there was little else to debate and we were retained to explore and exorcise the ruins of Harrowstone. Tomorrow we begin our expedition to truly send these vile souls to their final judgment.

From The field notes of Father Jaru Toth
Progress is made

25th of Calistril, 4714

It seems the restless dead haunt our dreams, but for once no person or thing comes knocking in the dead of night. All was not still and calm, however. The sheriff comes by early to lead us to find another letter writ in blood upon the Harrowstone Cenotaph – “VE”.

More disturbingly, the dog killed at the memorial the previous day was reanimated to be found under the town’s gazebo by Simeon and a group of children. Elidal was able to destroy it before anyone was killed by the abomination. Only Simeon suffered grievous injury. A crowd gathered again, however this time we argued our case more sucessfully. With Father Grimburrow’s assistance, we were granted access to the town records and invited to the town meeting tomorrow night.

Speaking of Father Grimburrow, the deeds of the previous night that I feared to mention before have come to light. At Nighteyes instigation, we entered the false crypt without the Church’s permission. Indeed, we were vindicated as no tomb was violated and we recovered many valuable tools for use against undead infestations: magical weaponry, haunt ensnaring vials and a spirit board among other things. Fortunately, Father Grimburrow forgave our trespass, but I would not seek to betray him again. He has been an invaluable ally.

Additionally, the sheriff concurs with my original suspicion that Gibbs may be acting with the cultists. Unfortunately, a visit to his sometimes employer, The Silk Purse, did not reveal anything incriminating.

Finally, our research continues to reap rewards. The prisoners trapped in the Harrowstone fire are identified one by one and Vigil finds a trove of information on haunts that may be useful.

Potential vengeful souls released by the Whispering Way include the evocatively named: Lopper, Piper of Illmarsh, Father Charlatan, Mosswater Maurader, and Splatterman

The field notes of Father Jaru Toth
A day of dark fortunes

24th of Calistril, 4714

Today has indeed been a day of dark fortunes. The Professor’s body has been found, though in a state of utter defilement- animated by necromancy. It knocked upon the door in the early hours and unfortunately, Kendra answered. I do not know if she will recover from the shock. Nighteyes cut the zombie down with his great curved sword, but he seems quite unhinged by the experience as well.

A crowd of townsfolk quickly gathered at the disturbance and it was only with great difficulty that they were dispersed once again. Simeon only riled them further by openly casting a spell. He should certainly have known better. The locals are all superstitious fools fearful of any and nearly all magic. I was able to keep them at bay until the Sheriff arrived to send them home.

Upon inspection with Simeon, we found that the corpse’s lower jaw crushed and missing as is the custom of the Whispering Way cult. Surely, this is more evidence of their presence. Father Grimburrow has taken the corpse for safekeeping though I begin to wonder about the local Pharasmite’s competence.

The morning brought only further disappointment and trouble. Nighteyes accompanied me to the Temple and Father Grimburrow cast a spell to heal his injured psyche. We turned up nothing further in the archives, however. Another bitter disappointment was Grimburrow’s refusal to let us personally inspect the false crypt mentioned in the Professor’s notes. Instead, he gave us some more information on the prison’s history and directed us to speak with the local smith, a dwarf named Jorfa that is the town’s longest lived resident.

The dwarf did not prove interested in a social visit however and it certainly didn’t help that Nighteyes insisted on playing bogeyman with the smith’s young apprentice. Perhaps Grimburrow’s spell was not all that effective after all. The psychotic elf also kept incessantly insisting that we break into the crypt despite not having permission. I flatly refused. He was slightly assuaged when the acolyte’s let us accompany them to replace the broken lock on the crypt which I assume was the Professor’s doing. A glance from outside was all we received however, for the acolytes continued to bar our entry.

Our situation only grew darker with the return of the others. Elidal made no headway with the council and some strange occurrence- I did not get the full story- led to another confrontation with the townsfolk at Zokar’s. Gibbs was involved of course and made horrible threats against Lament. He seems too simple to be a member of the Whispering Way, but I sense something dark behind his constant provocations.

The only dim ray of fortune granted us this day is that Lament has befriended the local herbalist named Jorminda who is thoughtfully caring for Kendra, may fate smile on her poor soul.

There is something else that I will not write about at the moment, but needless to say that I feel we are much better equipped for any threats now. Also, I fear that either the local Temple has not been effective in securing the sanctity of the Restlands or that a growing dark power has stirred the spirits there. We all witnessed haunts rising from the tombs of graves dating from the fire.

Letters to Family in Vigil
No glorified babysitting job

Toilday, 25th of Calistril, 4714

Dear Adrian,

I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to sit down and put ink to paper. I know how much you enjoy my letters when I travel away from Vigil, but various circumstances have kept me from writing.

As I’m sure mother and father have probably told you by now, I was summoned to the village of Ravengro in the Palatinate of Canterwall in our neighboring country of Ustalav. (That’s your geography lesson for the day, by the way.) At any rate, I was summoned to attend the funeral of an associate by the name of Petros Lorrimor. Professor Lorrimor was a man of intelligence and learning; a scholar and researcher whose expertise proved a great help to me once. Though I didn’t know the professor well, I was very saddened to hear of his passing.

My trip to Ravengro was a long, but relatively uneventful one. Unfortunately, I arrived in town later than I expected and only just managed to make it for the burial ceremony. It was then that I discovered that the tales we’ve heard of Ustalavian secrecy and suspicion were no exaggeration. Some of the locals attempted to bar the late Professor’s burial in their cemetary – they threw out accusations of witchcraft and necromancy, of all things. Thankfully, some of the others that were invited to attend the funeral stepped in and convinced the local Pharasmin church to carry on with the burial.

Afterwards, myself and several others were invited to the Professor’s house for the reading of his will. There, I met his daughter Kendra as well as some of the others who had travelled to Ravengro for the funeral. A very colorful and varied bunch they are – Lament, a young halfling woman with a love of music and a talent for reading the cards. Jaru Toth, a Pharasmin priest, all the way from Osirion of all places! Simeon Plavini, scholar of the arcane, a strange but intelligent man; personal habits remind me of Etiel (you remember Etiel from down the street, yes?) and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. Vigilance Hall – cold, cold as ice, but extremely intelligent and observant. His heritage leads me to wonder if he hails from somewhere near the Worldwound, but I’d never dare to ask him. And finally, the elf who calls himself Nighteyes; obviously a seasoned warrior but extremely taciturn in nature. He reminds me of the old soldiers, the ones who’ve seen too much fighting – the way that they seem to look right through you and everything else as if it isn’t even there.

At this point, I’m sure you’ve got many questions, the biggest one being – what was in the will? To make a long story short, I won’t be able to return to Vigil for some time yet. Among other things, myself and the people that I mentioned in my previous paragraph have been tasked with aiding Kendra in setting her own affairs in order, for a period of one month from the reading of the will. At the end of that time, it has been requested that we deliver some old books to a colleague of the Professor’s at the University in Lepidstadt. There will be some compensation for our time and effort as well, supposedly as much as 100 platinum pieces for each of us from the Professor’s own funds! I’m sure you’re thinking that it’s an amazing sum for what seems to be a glorified babysitting job. Unfortunately, things here haven’t turned out to be that simple.

It’s at this point that I’m not sure of how to proceed. I don’t know if outgoing correspondence is being examined or not and I’m unsure of how far the influence of certain forces can reach. Suffice it to say that things in Ravengro are not what they seem; there have been many strange events to take place since my companions and I arrived for the funeral. We have reason to believe that the Professor’s death was not an accident, but deliberate murder – by who and for what purpose, we’re still unsure. The more we dig, the more it becomes apparent that both the Professor and this town have points of darkness in their pasts. One thing I’m convinced of, is that the inhabitants of Ravengro as well as ourselves are in danger and something has to be done.

I’m sorry to worry you like this and I wish I could tell you more, but I’m afraid that sharing too much at this point might put both you and our parents in danger. Don’t mention any of this to mother and father; they worry enough as it is when I have to leave Vigil for mundane matters. Pray to the Inheritor that my companions and I will be able to handle the situation that we find ourselves in; I’ll write again in a few days.



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