Scrivener's Prophecy

Week 1

Ravengrow, Day 3.

Who would have thought that a funeral would turn into some sort of ridiculous cast of cast off people in Professor Lorrimer’s life? I travel over seventeen days from Magnamar and end up at Kendra’s house only to be surrounded by shiny Kobolds, wistful dwarves, a Paladin (good gods, a PALADIN?), and the stupidest Wizard this side of The Shackles.

Kendra must really be up a tree if she thinks that Iamjos Flargen is any sort of match for her.

Let’s add to this inane series of events by inserting that I now apparently have THREE dead parents and a sister who has terrible taste in men; all three dead parents were all made known to me posthumously. I ought to take up a collection, really, at the rate I am going.

Let us only hope that the month passes without any stupidity, and that Professor (I almost spit on the name) Flargen ceases his endless crusade to get in Kendra’s good graces.

Ravengrow, Day 4.

If I had known that cryptrobbing was so simple, I would have given up piracy long ago. A few dead centipedes and a cache of treasures and we’re on our way with some well placed misinformation. Normally, to come away with this good of a haul, we’d have to storm a ship full of armed men who would actually do more than hiss at us for a good 10 seconds.

Ravengrow is creepy. That gnome hippie girl (Trig, I think her name is) said something along the lines of girls singing some sort of messed up rhyme as they were playing, and then there was Viktor’s name on the gravestone … the same date as the fire of Harrowstone. Not to mention the letters on the monument, and the elusive Mr. Gibbs. Something is very much up, and it doesn’t seem to be corporeal at this rate.

I never much liked ghost stories. Not much to wrap your hands around.

Ravengrow, Day 5

I went to help with some research in the Temple of whatever the hell goddess that they pray to up here. Five notorious prisoners, matching the names in the skipping rhyme … and then there was the correlation of the letters on the monument and the Warden’s wife. All signs point to the fact that we’ll have to go investigate a haunted prison.

I am none to happy about this.

I need some more tobacco for my pipe. I think it’ll be an extra late night tonight. If Professor Flargen goes on another one of his evening escapades, I want to catch him on his skulk back – just to needle him a bit more about his pursuit of my so-called sister.

Ravengrow, Day 5 (update)

I will not talk about the nightmare I just had, but the fact that my name was manifested on the wall nearly complete in blood (not my own, I checked with almost obsessive fervor) has me shaking. Kendra has offered to keep me in her room for the evening, but I am having trouble going to sleep.

According to legend, the victims met their end shortly after the names were spelled in the blood of whatever such thing. -This leads me to worry. -

Leave me the hell alone.

Ravengrow, Day 6

Mr. Gibbs is dead and the town wants to call a meeting.

Yes, this seems like a highly intelligent idea: odd and creepy things are happening all over the town and people are dying and YES, let us put everyone into one building: all the better to have something spooky happen.

So the meeting is to be in the Town Hall, suspected all major town players will be there. The villagers are very upset over the death of Mr. Gibbs, and suddenly my suddenly gained undeath cult obsessed dead father.

We’ll see how it goes. I will not be surprised if I come back without an arm, much less, a head.

Ravengrow, Day 6 (update)

Everything’s on fire. The sheriff is dead. As is his deputy. Hanging from the trees and flayed so to speak. The monument splattered in blood. One villager perished in the flames due to Iamjos’ stupidity: he spent precious seconds beating the burning man with a tapestry rather than removing him from the fire that was cooking him alive.

The fire was very theatric. Started on cue. The doors were barred from the outside. The crowd incensed, and there was Iamjos, relentlessly battering a poor dying man with a piece of embroidered wall-art. Flying skulls swathed in flame flew through the windows, creating fire where they were shattered by my bullet.

The sherrif was conspicuously missing from the meeting, as we’d not found his body hanging from the trees and splayed open from chin to belly. The ever heroic Iamjos found the bodies, and left them hanging there. What a gentleman. Kendra mentioned the other night that she is falling for him.

The town has hired us to “Save them oh please save them!” From what? Ghosts? The pay is good, I suppose. I’ve nothing else to do for the required month I am meant to remain in this forsaken town.

What I have learned this entire endeavor is: Kendra is a terrible judge of character.

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Grimburrow Azwaithe

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