Tyrannus Susurrat

Kronus Journal Entry: 1 Lamashan

We did an investigation of the ground floor and second story of Harrowstone Prison. The ruins are decidedly haunted by the spirits of those who have died there. I am at least thankful that this is a supernatural haunt, and not a work of necromancy. God, have I had my fill of necromancers. We have cleaned out the levels that we explored, and laid to rest some of the spirits there. The most notable of these spirits, in my mind, was the spirit of “Father Charlatan,” a man that purportedly traveled across the land pretending to be a priest of any number of deities. He would use his status as a “priest” to perform false miracles in exchange for large sums of gold. A truly despicable man.

It was on the second floor’s west balcony that we had our closest encounter with Father Charlatan. During a fight with a possessed execution scythe, the Oracle, Basilla, became bound by spectral chains identical to the ones that had bound the corpse of the dead con-artist. In an attempt to aid Basilla, I attempted to cast a Corrosive Touch spell on the malignant enemy, only to end up harming Basilla instead. It was truly embarrassing and quite confusing, to be honest. I’ve never faced an ethereal opponent that would not be harmed by arcane magics.

Afterward, we returned to Ravengro to rest and recuperate in preparation for a second expedition tomorrow. I do hope that we find more answers in the dungeon than we did today.

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Kronus Journal Entry: Highharvesttide

Highharvesttide, 4708

I have arrived in Ravengro today, at the summons of Professor Lorrimor, only to find that he has been slain. I do lament his passing, as he was a good friend and a wealth of knowledge. He has been killed in a place known as Harrowstone Prison; a long abandoned ruin of a penal facility that housed some of Ustalav’s most vile criminals. An object reportedly fell on him, but it is yet unknown to me whether this was an accident or an act of murder.

His daughter, Kendra, informs me that I am late for the funeral, and that there was some commotion from the peasants when they buried him. Tomorrow, I will have to visit his grave and pay my respects. The fact that the ignorant peasants of Ravengro caused a fuss when the professor was laid to rest comes as no large surprise, given the sheer number of sneers and dirty looks that I have received since my arrival.

Also, I have been introduced to several other acquaintances and friends of the late professor. Firstly, a quiet man by the name of Miles. Judging by the look of him, I would guess him to be a soldier, or some other specialist in mundane combat. Next, a man whom I can’t seem to place. He doesn’t seem to carry a weapon on him, nor did I see a holy symbol or spellbook. I suppose he could be a sorcerer, but he doesn’t really have an arcane air about him. Third, a graceful woman who seems a little off to me. There is something about her that I can’t figure out, perhaps it is her origins, as I cannot truly believe her to be a mere human, but she does not posses the trademarks of an elf, either. I will have to keep an eye on her. The last of the acquaintances I have made today is a clearly Chelaxian woman by the name Basilla, a devil-worshiper, no doubt. Perhaps I will ask her what it is like to deal with the denizens of hell.

In any case, I intend to set out tomorrow with these people to the ruins of Harrowstone. I will find out what happened to Professor Lorrimor, and perhaps unlock whatever secrets he was seeking in the prison’s walls.

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Basilla - 29 Rova 4708

Written on a page in the large tome Basilla carries with her, in her backpack:

“If the events of recent days have taught me anything, it’s that I must be daft for writing anything private down, especially in this (of all objects, no less) damned tome. That scoundrel will certainly steal a peek of this at some point, I’m almost certain of it, and if you’re reading this, thief, then realize you know not what you hold in your sweaty, thieving palms. Thumbing through this tome will not uncover the dirty secrets of Basilla D’Cieri; no, you’ll have to prod me with hot irons for those.

In either case, here I write, locked away in the room I have chosen for myself in the Lorrimor Estate. I can hear Kendra sobbing a couple of rooms down. I meant to check on her earlier, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to it, and I turned away from her door when I arrived. Her sobs send a shiver down my spine, and frankly, cause me to well up just as badly. There must be something wrong with me; I haven’t felt this way since…"

The text trails off of that subject.

“The emotional suffering in this place is unbearable; Ustalav is a place of broken people. I must work to keep composure. I am not as frail as I look.

As far as my newfound companions, I must say, the warrior, Miles, is a sight to behold; when we were attacked in the crypt, today, he cleaved those beasts with ease. I am impressed with that one.

I’m not sure what to think of the other woman. She is quiet, and keeps to herself. I can relate – I did that for most of my life, and it served me well. I have no reason to dislike her as of yet, and the way she commands that wolf is fascinating. I will respect her need for privacy – for now.

Her companion, named Syrian, is a fine man. He bears an aura of courage that inspires me, and perhaps all of us, in some small way. I find him trustworthy so far. He and the quiet woman seem to be close in some way; perhaps romantically? Pity, that.

My opinion has been stated of the scoundrel thief. He is entertaining, but he’s going to land us in a lot of trouble some day.

That brings me to Kendra. She is an interesting woman, if a bit brash. Running at those peasants at the funeral yesterday with naught but a knife was unwise, despite their lack of martial skill. If we have to watch her for a whole month, I am going to keep a close eye on her.

My birthday is in 12 days, on 11 Lamashan. I should find some way to celebrate. Perhaps I will plan something involving my new companions. Foolish idea? Possibly. But at the same time, it may help everyone get to know one another. That will become important in the future.

- Basilla D’Cieri, 29 Rova 4708"

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Oi. What..a mess..

29 Rova, 4708

Ever showed up a bit too early for a party and been forced to deal with the unyielding awkwardness that comes from having absolutely nothing to do with anyone present? What about..if you, I don’t know.., look super sketchy and have one glowing green eye? That.., uh, doin’ anything for ya there, champ? No? No worries.. Leaves a shit taste in my mouth too.. Haha.

I look weird, I’m well aware. My father always said so. It isn’t news to me. It’s for that reason I decided to show up a bit later than others usually would.. It must have been around eight-thirty when I took my first hasty steps into the town of Ravengro. Most all of the shops were closed. Lights shown from windows; a clear indicator that much of this town was soon to bed down for the night. Good. Good, good, good, good….good. The very last thing I need is to try and explain that I was skulking around in the dark because I’m afraid people won’t like me on account of I look kinda funny. Haha. Who would believe that? Hopefully everyone.. The truth is somewhat difficult to swallow sometimes, I suppose..

Professor Lorrimor’s home different than I expected. Though, I’m not sure what I was expecting, really.. Maybe something with pillars.. Or, lots and lots of books.. Actually, I think I may have been under the assumption he lived in a library.. Bollocks. In any case, a few rap-tap-taps later, a lady who, I assumed was Kendra, Professor Lorrimor’s daughter, answered. Her calm disturbed me.. She wasn’t even slightly tweaked about my eye. I admit, it could have been that it was somewhat shrouded by my cloak, but c’mon! IT GLOWS for fuck’s sake. Regardless.., after the initial shock that she wasn’t outrightly troubled by my presence.., a strange calm came over me. To be accepted..is not something I’m entirely used to. Not many aside from Mr. Lorrimor and my father have ever treated me as something entirely normal. Well…for the most part. Haha. Father was..fun. But, enough about that.

Miss Kendra seemed as though she’d been crying. I wonder if she’d known how awkward things were bound to get in the moments that followed if she’d still have told me what’d happened. That..I will never know. She told me that her father, the Professor, had died.. That didn’t really make sense. Father told me to come see Mr. Lorrimor. He’d told me that it was finally time for me to pay the kind man back for all that he’d done for me. But,..how can I if he’s dead? But,..wait.. Am I..maybe supposed to..~gulp~ Dare I say it,..take care of his daughter for him? Oh..Gods..shit. I’m not ready for that kind of commitment. Hell, I’m not even willing to commit to what I want for breakfast tomorrow at this point in my life. Surely not..

Before I could spiral into an endless, dark abyss of self conscious horror, Kendra elaborated to tell me that the funeral would be tomorrow, also offering me room and board until then. That suits me fine.. I would REALLY rather not have to ask someone else for a place to stay.. She offered to show me around. How nice of her. She really is very nice, you know. If I hadn’t mentioned yet. Just saying. Anyway, there are a lot of interesting things in this place. It reminds me somewhat of my father’s private study. You know, or maybe you don’t.., the one that I’m not allowed in. I hope to investigate more throughly later. One never knows what one may find with a poke and a prod in the right location.. …. . That was rather dirty sounding.. Gah. None of that. None of that. Upon showing me the master bedroom, I noticed an..especially interesting chest.. What a lovely chest it is.. More lovely, I’m sure, are the contents of said chest. ..DAMN! That sounded off too! What in the name of the lower planes and all of their horrors is wrong with me! Must..resist..urge..to kill..self..

Kendra’s tour ended with the library. A nifty place, if I do say so myself. I rather enjoy books.. And, well, perhaps I’m somewhat relieved by it’s presence due to my expectations of Mr. Lorrimor. If that’s somewhat selfish.., well, I can live with that, I suppose. In the library a man stood flipping through the pages of one of the many books. He seemed nice enough. I..should probably play nice too.. Mostly because if he tries to kill me..he might win! And..I really don’t like the idea of dying in a library. Maybe..a devilish library.. But, certainly not a personal library.


My fears were unfounded anyway. He’s a nice man. Human as far as I can tell. Which..basically just translates to him being about as normal looking a creature as I’ve ever encountered. The fingers on his hands are somewhat worn though. Looks as though he may play a stringed instrument. Or..he works with his hands a lot.. Maybe a farmer? Mmmn…Whatever. I’ll either find out later or..I’ll go home. Haha. Whichever comes first. Haha.

After reading up on a couple of different things…more of less. The human, whom I learned was called Syrian, went off to rest. I suppose I should do the same.. But,..Something..nagging..in..brain. GuuuaAHHHH! Well then.., I suppose I’ll be visiting with the lovely chest before sleep then. I’m pretty sure I’ll throw myself from the roof if I don’t figure out what’s inside soon.. Like the fleet little scamp I am, sneaking into the room wasn’t all that difficult. You might say..it was.. No, fuck that. No comparisons. It was just awesome.

The lock was meant to be tough. Fortunately for me, this isn’t my first performance. With a few off clicking sounds, it opened with a satisfying pop. Inside I found a strange journal which, upon probing somewhat, seems to have belonged to Professor Lorrimor, and three tombs. Neat! Rather than stay to investigate exactly what I’d just found and get caught being a snoop, taking them to my room seemed a much better choice! Daft..gah. The journal was..interesting, to say the least. Every question already buzzing around the inner chambers of my mind ruptured and exploded into a million more. What was going on? What’s this about a fire.. Who.. More investigating will be necessary. I need to know what lies at the intersection of Eversleep and The Black Path.. Tomorrow will present the perfect opportunity.

With the morning came new faces. By the looks of him, a half-elf, heavily armed. And, oh lovely, first scowl of the day. Better pull my hood a little more over my face. Lovely. Two more ladies are here as well. One seems to be Syrian’s lady. I’m not certain of her name just yet, I get a strange feeling from her. The other is wearing a demon mask..What..the..Hell..? She’s from Cheliax. She must be. Or maybe not. I could have sworn I’ve seen her somewhere before though.. Perhaps it was while traveling with father. Regardless. She seems somewhat frail. I wonder if she’s getting enough to eat. Surely she didn’t journey here on here own? She’s lucky to have made it judging by the look of her. It is good to see a face from,..well, you can’t really see her face now can you.., but close enough.

Around noon we all journey to meed Kendra for the funeral ceremony. She asks if any of us would be willing pall-bearers. Before I can even open my mouth offer, everyone quickly jumps to the task. Clearly they must have a strong connection with the professor. I do,..but recent discoveries cauterize the wounds of passing quite well, and my mind is much too fixated on the location mentioned in the journal to devote my entire self to the process of which I am a vital component. I am not beyond sentimental attachment. Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of pain. And, I sympathize with Kendra.., for I, too, know how it feels to lose a parent. My true father, I’ll never know, and watching my mother pack her things whilst I feinted sleep, not realizing that within momenta she would be farther than I could chase her, my heart is weighted with its own scars.. Let them think what they will of me. It won’t change what I know to be the reality of it all.

No sooner had we begun making our way to the grave site when a group of people from the town showed to be blocking the entrance. The crowd was populated with the implements of farmers’ work. Brandishing them at us as they were, my muscles tensed. Had they figured out what I was? Were they going to kill me? None of the people around me like me well enough to protect me, or even say something for that matter. What..awh..gawd.. But, one of the men in the group calls out to us. It seems he has a problem with the Professor, not me. That’s a relief. Wait.. Is that a relief? No, no, I suppose it isn’t when you get right down to it. Kendra runs at them with a knife.. Unexpected, yes, I admit. What..the..Hell..is..she..doing? AH!

All at once we lower the casket to the ground. The half-elf fellow races off toward the group. I’d say he’s rather pissed. Everyone seems to be. I can’t really say I blame them. I feel it too, boiling up inside me. Maybe it’s a kinship I feel with the persecuted. No matter the reason, fuck these people. I won’t kill them, but perhaps there’s a chance I can scare them. Running at them, it never really crossed my mind that waving my devilish features in the faces of the townsfolk might in some way make things harder for me. In fact, disregarding reason altogether, I flung my cloak back on the ground, revealing my purpled skin, and luminous devil’s eye. I can see the fear in enter their eyes. Two of the men run away. Satisfying enough, I suppose. I feel weirdly naked now though.. Perhaps a bad choice. Moments later, I find myself talking to the men, instructing that the best way to keep their lives is to run. Oddly enough, that seemed to do the trick. Good enough. Whatever.

After the ceremony Kendra informs us that the will reading will be at seven O’clock this evening. That leaves a good chunk of time for investigating. With little effort, I located the area in question. Unfortunately, with this discovery came the realization that I would need someone to accompany me..because there may be undead inside, and the idea of being eaten alone sounds just awful. Not really thinking all that hard, I call the half-elf over to me. He seems thrilled! Taking cue from his ecstatic approach, I proceeded to convince him to come with me. Fat lot of good that did. Neither of us can cast spells.. Dammit.. I guess I’ll have to find out if someone else is capable of producing light. Or go to the store and buy a torch..Duh.. Shit. We end up just going back to wait for the will reading.

At seven O’clock on the dot the man arrives to read the will. Nothing seems too out of the ordinary..except this chest business..and tomes.. What could he be..OHSWEETSHITTHECHEST. Kendra opens the trunk to find..~drum roll~ Nothing! Shit. This is some wacky bullshit. Allowing my mind to do the racing my body could not, I stealthily made my way up to my room without the others seeing. Quick as I could, I hid a tome in people’s belongings. If I’m going to get nipped for something stupid, I certainly won’t endure it alone. Fuck a lot of that. As quickly as I left, I return once more to face the others. How. Awkward.

After some coaxing, I manage to get the young Chelaxian girl to reply to me in the Infernal tongue. HAH. I knew it. Must..build..bridges.. I have to give it up though. This is going to suck. But, better they know a little and hate me just a bit…than immediately get the tomes and potentially attempt to kill me. I suppose they still might. But,..whatever. If they manage it, they’d only end up suspecting each other now. That’s good. Sort of. I have to stay alive and find out what’s going on here. I’m sorry to have to trick them all. But,..it’s the only way. Much as expected the death threats came almost immediately1. However, I think I may have convinced them to go along with my plan. This..could get interesting.

The following morning we travel to the graveyard once more with the intent to lay only secrets to rest. Upon sneaking into the crypt once more, we’re confronted with many disturbingly large centipedes. Within the first moments of battle, however, we realize they’re..not all that fearsome. Haha. Ahhhhhhh.. Jeez. After the battle we find the tools I sought. Now, hopefully we can find an appropriate way to use them.

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Session 1 - Xanaphia
Excerpt from Xanaphia's Journal

As I walk to Ravengro with Syrian, I ponder on the fact he knows what might become of me if my mother ever succeeds in capturing me. While he sings about his love for me, my mind jumps to if he really loves me, or is it my curse. Once we make it to Ravengro, the townspeople whisper amongst themselves about us. I decided to ignore it, less attention the better. Finally, we reach the Professor’s home, and are informed by Kendra, the horrible news, of the Professor’s death.

The day after we arrive is the Professor’s funeral. There are three other travelers that have showed up for the occasion. To my knowledge they all seem to have somewhat close ties to the Professor. It worries me that the Professor might have something up his sleeve even after his passing. Two of the travelers seem more concerned about hiding their faces than myself. I don’t indulge too much on the fact, for I am scared of what I might find.

The young half-elf in heavy armor seems to be use to encounters more than the clocked man. As for the small woman, I have not yet engaged in conversation. At the funeral, a few more people showed up, townspeople I assume. They all seem that they only have come for the fact that they feel compeled to do so. Before we could lay the Professor to rest, we had to chase off some annoying peasant folk. That seemed to be convinced by the rumors floating around town about the Professor being involved in necromancy. After the funeral, I decided to stay with Kendra, since she had taken a hit or two from the scrap. I also didn’t want her running off and taking out her woman’s revenge on her own.

Around seven that night it was time for the hearing of the Professor’s will. He had asked for all six of us to be here for it. Or otherwise have it delayed till such a thing could happen. We have two favors to fulfill one stay and protect Kendra for a month and then after the time span, return some tomes back to the University. Seems quite easy enough, until we opened the chest and it was bare. Is this what he was warning us about? Is someone already testing our will and respect for the Professor’s favors? The opening of the chest heart broke everyone, except for the tiefling. He just headed to bed, but he is a tiefling I’m sure he doesn’t care at all except for the money. But there is something more odd about him than just his deformities, but when I was heading to bed he came back to join us. Something is wrong here! I usually don’t bring Wither Fang inside someone’s home but tonight he will stay by my side.

The next morning, the tiefling had the half-elf and the small woman outside talking about a crypt they went to yesterday. Syrian and I overheard them talking about this and decided to join them, only to find out that we had a very irritating rogue amongst our gathering. The tiefling was raised to be a rogue and a very schemeful one at that. He was the one who had stolen the tomes, so we will do his bidding. First thing he insists is for all of us to explore the crypt he thinks there are “tools” in. We head our way to this unknown crypt. It was dark and full of giant centipedes. There we found a chest full of things to help against undead and evil things.

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Session Zero - Purely Administrative
People meet each other and decide to play some Pathfinder

We got together and set in stone exactly what we’d be playing. Our big decisions? Playing Carrion Crown, and trying to evoke the feel of a Gothic Horror campaign.

People in attendance:

Those present decided what they’re going to play.

People who will join us later:

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