Taking up a disproportionately large amount of the Roe’s above-ground portion, the City Cemetery stands as an eternal tribute to the countless citizens who have faded from existence; leaving only memories and, in all likelihood, debts behind.

Ringed in on all sides by decrepit buildings from the early days of the city’s opulence, now gone, the cemetery manages to feel claustrophobic despite the massive space it takes up. Encompassing a full third of the district, if not more, the expansive, hilly field is littered with gravestones and monuments beyond counting. The grasses and small plants which grow here are surprisingly lively; more so than in nearly any other area of the town. Were it not for the multitudes of graves, one might be forgiven for thinking it some sort of morbid public park, rather than a graveyard. Of course, with the multitude of headstones packed so tightly together that many are nearly falling over from overcrowding around them, there is really no way such a mistake could be made today.

Row upon jagged, disorderly row stretches from one end of the field to the other; each contributing to the solemn, unmoving parade which marches over hills, around bends, and through tiny groves of willows where they stand. Tall obelisks, craggy mausoleums, and stately sepulchers break up the natural scenery here and there; adding an air of mystery and forlorn beauty to the graveyard’s visage. Amongst them, many you can see as you tread the hard-beaten paths of the cemetery have fallen to extreme disrepair over the years. Some have collapsed entirely, leaving only forsaken, moss-covered ruins in their stead.

A few small shrines to various gods can be found here, as well as the now-defunct Temple of Kelemvor and the collapsed Hall of the Raven Queen. The only ones venturing into such places these days are the grave keepers; stoic sentinels who tends to the grounds as best they can with spade and sickle. Digging new graves, mending old ones, keeping track of whose buried where, and keeping the obnoxiously fervent plant life in check has left these ghastly individuals with little time for anything else. They live within the seemingly-abandoned buildings which act as the cemeteries containing walls. The speak little, often offering visitors little more than a nod of acknowledgement and a shaky point in one direction or another; directing them to a specific grave or some other landmark they may be seeking.

Decrepit and ominous, the cemetery is nonetheless an important site of interest for those visiting the city. As it is here, and here alone, that their adventures are most likely to end...


This message was last edited by the GM at 04:03, Thu 15 Oct 2020.

Yshtar yawned. It has been a long day and she is still walking around town. She seriously thought about her life choices by not going to the adventuring guild and accepting their mission to probably clean the severs of runaway criminals, rogue kobolds or other vermin. At least it was probably a good night for looking at the stars - for her priest client inedeed. For Yshtar tonight was about staying vigilant. The ghastly keepers might be safe but undead might loom around as they do in a lot of cemeteries in Veltria.

"Is this our last stop for the night? My journey here on the ship wasn't particularly restful."

Bartimaeus kept half an eye on the scenery and half an eye on the small map he'd made. He was looking for some kind of promontory; an open space in which to set up his kosmoculum for when the skies cleared. He gave some thought to picking a defensible location: a place that wouldn't leave them blind to anything approaching; but with walls enough to conceal their presence; while giving him a clear shot of the sky; while blocking as many of the city's lights as possible.

Once he'd found something that would suffice, he tried to determine the distance between where he was and the location in the Roe where the College mosaic had written a line. Glancing at Yshtar he didn't know if it was too imprudent to venture in that direction just yet.

"I had not intended to go anywhere else, really, and the surroundings are peaceful enough, don't you think? An hour or three with this device should serve to prove it or not, then back to Milo in the morning."

~~ Don't forget the curse... any extracurricular activity might delay a return overlong. ~~

Idly he unrolled the canvas star chart and hazarded a guess as to where this fictitious star -- he'd named it Vhagus -- might be found. Once finally established, he sat, placed a pinch of incense in his censer, and prayed compline.

"... on the ship...?" He said afterwards, distractedly, then his attention fully returned and he turned to Yshtar. "Oh! Yes, by ship. Of course. From whence did you come? Was it a long journey?"

---

OOC:
The plan for the evening (unless and until interrupted by differently-alive people):

Occasional castings of Guidance while busy with the stars and the device.

09:41, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 13 using 1d20+1d4+5 ((5,3)). Arcana 1
09:40, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 25 using 1d20+1d4+5 ((16,4)). Arcana 2
09:40, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 11 using 1d20+1d4+5 ((4,2)). Arcana 3
09:40, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 11 using 1d20+1d4+5 ((2,4)). Arcana 4
09:39, Today: Bartimaeus rolled 22 using 1d20+1d4+5 ((16,1)) Arcana 5

First thing is to figure out how to sight in the telescope. Start with the moon for ease. Then move to known stars. If the afternoon had given me any guesses about where Vagus might be, he'd point the telescope in that direction, too.

Passive Perception 12 for my immediate surroundings (but I suppose 7, since I'll be focusing on the stars, therefore disadvantaged?).

She followed the priest idly as he made his measurements. Honestly she didn't care about the stars. Her condition would require an other type of specialist she was not committed to search for now. Maybe in some time, or whenever a chance came up.

"I came from here and there really. I have been taking the odd job in the towns across the far coast but realized the Empire didn't like freelancers that much and decided to move to an independent town."
She didn't want to commit by saying anything yet. Instead she kept her professional attitude which helped her through many annoying employers.

---

Spoiler for Insight DC 16: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Not because she had anything to hide really, but instead because she was increasingly annoyed by Bartimaeus' secrecy.

---

"And where do you hail from? Were you always a kosmolrhonger?"

He fiddled idly with the telescope waiting for the cloud cover to disperse. "My monastery is in Faurl, if that's what you mean, near the Lapland coast, though I've been on sabbatical for some eight months. And, ha, have I always been an kosmologician? Not at all. Metaphysics is my primary focus of study: the study of the fundamental Truth of reality. Kosmology is merely an outlet to express that interest."

Bartimaeus began to speak more rapidly.

"Look up at the sky. What do you see? What are they? Are they the spirits of our ancestors as the Heide Shamans claim? The blueprint of the Prime Material Plane, or nodes in the network of positive energy crossing the firmament? Or gateways out of the Prime, and into ... elsewhere?" He held up his hands and shrugged. "You might not know, or even not care to know. Would it surprise you to hear that even those who have spent long years studying the question don't speak with one voice on the issue? What can be agreed upon is the existence of patterns within their movement, subjecting them, however imperfectly, to the predictive capacity of mortal thought."

He sighed, and gathered his thoughts.

"A thing may only be understood in its context. Consider: the sounds you hear coming from my voice only have significance in the context of generally agreed-upon definitions of the common tongue, but there is nothing necessary about what the meaning of 'luncheon' is. Language is conditional. Its referent, however, the consumption of matter to enable its alchemical conversion into energy and mass for that which consumes, well... that absolutely is a necessary feature of mortality." He shuddered briefly. "Everything eats."

He looked again at the stars.

"I look upwards because I only observe the nominal and conditional features of reality. To know their purpose; to know the fundamental and necessary realities of the kosmos..." he looked earnestly imploring, and also very, very tired. "... that would give me the context required to understand life. To understand myself."

He paused, considered, became serious, then continued. "Back to language. Why do we know a fundamental significance exists that vocal language only imitates? Well... that's because..." and he closed his mouth and eyes, bringing his right index finger up to his head.


Bartimaeus opened his eyes and smiled, sadly.

---

Spoiler for Insight DC 1: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Whatever you think he's hiding, he's earnest about not knowing what he's looking for.

---

In reply to Bartimaeus (msg # 5):

The spot you find to settle is a fairly open courtyard-like clearing which stands before the ruins of a collapsed mausoleum. A massive black stone obelisk stands in the middle of this little circle, with half-buried cobblestones stretching out around it in a circular batter to form something of a gap between the front of the mausoleum and the numerous graves rising up on all sides around it. You are essentially set up in a small basin between a few shallow hills, each no more than 10ft to their peak; with gravestones clumped tightly together all across them.

From their space, you have a very clear view of the skies above, which soon reveal the stars after a few long sheets of cloud finally fade away. The heavens are thick with the innumerable lights of the myriad stars and planets beyond this one, though the moon is no where to be seen tonight.

After two hours of fiddling with the contraption, Bartimaeus finally manages to properly tune it into the ideal magnification necessary to observe the cosmos in detail. With the star map in hand, you are able to match up much of what you see above to the Autumn portion of the chart. Looking through the violet lenses, you are certain you now have a proper grasp on how the device functions. You can see stars and planets magnified significantly through the stained glass. It is easy to pick out specific landmarks in the night sky which you are already familiar with. However, searching through the main lens for a full half hour, you don’t seem to be able to pick up any sign of the mystery star noted in the charts.

While the night drags on, the priest seems to become more and more lost in his star gazing.The night is quiet though, so there isn’t a great deal around to hear.  It is only with some great effort that Yshtar is able to make out the sounds of music off in the distance. Revelry coming from the closing hours of the Market Day event, no doubt.... except that the more you listen, the less that seems to be the case. The music isn’t quite what you’d expect from a port-town market festival. It’s far too complex for that. And it’s coming from the wrong direction. Unless you got turned around much more severely than you thought during the journey here, you’re confident the sounds are coming from the direction of the walls and the city gates, not the Town Square. Looking that way, you focus in on what you are hearing and realize it’s not coming from far away, but is being muffled by something physical, rather than the distance.

By earth.
By stone.
By the fallen remnants of architecture long left to rot away.

The music appears to be stemming from somewhere beneath the fallen structure of the mausoleum directly across the clearing from you.

"Faurl? Never even been close to that place. I assume it is in the Empire?"

Yshtar ventured but didn't really expect an answer and in all honesty it didn't even matter. Whehter it was Veltria or a free city the only thing mattered is that they were both here. And soon enough Bartimaeus started to explain ... something. I don't think even he knows what he is talking about. However the telepathy was new. She heard about it of course, some monsters and wizards used it but apparently the priest of Oghma also had some sort of gift. Maybe it was too much for his frail mind. After some time she tried to answer politely.

"Ah, I see. You should know you are not alone. A lot of people try to understand themselves, most usually look inwards. Usually I don't have this problem because most of the time I either try to convince badguys using words or with the point of my greatsword but lately...wait, do you hear this music? Is is coming from that mausoleum. Do you want to see whether the Keepers are holding a little celebration themselves or whether we'll find the Danse Macabre itself down there? The gods, the stars themselves might have guided us here. Or you know, this might be a very, very unlucky day.

Her other talents are quite useful now as is the fact that she can see in the dark much better than anyone would suspect. Years of hunting monsters and fugitives really pays off in these situations. If she had to babysit a regular VIP she would have suggested to withdraw but the priest sounded like an adventurer regardless of what he let on.

In reply to Yshtar (msg # 7):

Looking around as you say this, you note that absolutely none of the keepers are present anywhere around you now. When you two first approached the cemetery, you at least saw one or two trimming some of the grasses on the very edges of the graveyard. They have all since seemingly retired into the various crumbling buildings around the border of the cemetery.

“What’s that you say?” he said, his hands still working fine tuning knobs. “Music? I don’t hear...”

Bartimaeus stopped and looked up, his face pure concentration.

“I hear music.”

He began packing his equipment and rolling the canvas with delicate haste.

“It is not the Keepers. It may be a Danse Macabre.” He looked at Yshtar with concern. “I did not know we would find this, but I cannot say I am surprised we have done so. You’ll recall the Archlich Vampire Beholder Demon?

"He is also an accomplished composer.

“We should go.”

---

OOC:
I’m casting a ballot for GT/FO 2020.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:19, Thu 15 Oct 2020.

Yshtar was a bit disappointed in the priest. So not an adventurer after all. She sighed.

"The Dance of the Dead? And you don't even want to take a peek? What kind of seeker-scholar are you? If this enemy of yours -whom you already referred by three different names in the course of twelve hours- really wanted to dispose of you they would already have done so. And they would have surrounded us with their allies which they haven't. So the tactical conclusion my Oghmian friend is: This music is not of your enemy." The monologue of course was rhetorical. She shrugged. "Fine, you are the one paying the bills. If you want to run we'll run."

She waited for Bartimaeus to pack his items of value and followed him wherever he went. Her armored head sometimes looked back at the mausoleum: An equal measure of curiosity and anticipation of enemies radiated from her.

“Neither is the entomologist the enemy of the butterfly, though the former runs the latter through with a pin.”

His gear secured, he started away from the mausoleum.

“I’m sorry if I was taken away by hyperbole: he is willfully undead, or similarly immune to the passage of time. You called him an Archlich. In any case, records indicate he and his coterie easily dispatched a company of ... adventurers... who ventured to defeat him. This is not cowardice but prudence.”

His face brightened.

“And we have learned something: the Keepers know to stay away.”

Now that you are both focusing on it, you can make out a bit more of the music now.

Complex.
 Bombastic.
Overwhelming.
 An entire chorus accompanied by an orchestra.

But the dirt and grass and ruined stonework do dull the sound significantly. It’s impossible to make out words from the chorus. You cannot tell exactly what instruments are being used. All you know for sure is that you seemed to arrive in the midst of a piece that was already in progress and it does not appear to be slowing or stopping any time soon. High above the sky remains clear and filled with stars. All around, beyond the music, the night is silent and still.

"You said he is a necromancer lich. Those beings are so powerful they can dispatch almost any adventuring company."

She said visibly distracted. If the enemy was indeed a lich, protecting the priest is obviously a suicidal task. I am by no means a threat to it and the lich will not care if I'm there if it attacks. The only reason he didn't attack yet was because he is not an undead necromancer.
The armored woman looked around to see whether there were any enemies looming nearby. There were obviously none so she motioned Bartimaeus toward the cemetary gates.

"Go ahead. I'll stay behind to fend off anyone attacking and investigate. If I survive we'll meet in the inn. May Tymora shine on us both with good luck.

As her fighting instincts started kicking in she forgot the name of the inn. Using shadows that almost seem to hug her she slowly started to creep toward the mausoleum watching for any trap or enemy abound.

16:08, Today: Yshtar rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  perception.
16:14, Today: Yshtar rolled 22 using 1d20+4.  stealth.

In reply to Yshtar (msg # 13):

Silent as the shadows themselves, you creep forward; trying your best to keep an eye on all of your surroundings at once. Yet the closer you draw to the mausoleum’s ruins, the more distracting the dulled music becomes. Something about it isn’t right. The sounds are far too unnatural. Whatever is being played down there is not an instrument you have ever encountered. Mixed in amongst the the sound of drums, horns, flutes, and strings, there is an otherworldly warbling. A discordant whine that vibrates through the very air itself. It makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Before you know it, you are at the front of the ruins. You can see some semblance of a staircase leading down into the mausoleum proper, but it is blocked by rubble. You would need tp exert a good bit of effort to clear a pathway large enough to actually proceed down into the darkened sub levels of the structure.

Make and Athletics Check if you intend to try to move the rubble enough to form a way down.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:28, Fri 16 Oct 2020.

Definitely no liches here. Yshtar looked around using her third eye again. Knowing she'd probably blow her cover but trusting her abilities to be able to Yshtar tried to move some blocks around to see whether she was able to do so. She still tried to be quiet as possible and stopped after any sound her work made.


Divine sense uses left for today: 2/4
16:40, Today: Yshtar rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  strength check.

In reply to Yshtar (msg # 15):

Moving closer, you don’t sense... anything really. The space ahead of and below you is entirely devoid of Any of the essences you would have expected to encounter. Shrugging it off, you quickly set to work clearing some of the rubble. Its difficult work, with many of the chunks of stone being almost the size of your entire upper body; yet you push yourself and manage to make quick work of it. Before you know it, a decently sized pathway has been cleared leading to the spiraling stone staircase at the very back of the mausoleum.

No light shines from down there, but you can hear the music more clearly now. It sounds... deep. As though this staircase descends for much further than it initially looked.

Bartimaeus was stunned when the woman marched off towards the mausoleum.

~~ Either a complete disregard for her own personal safety, or a complete disregard for my warnings. ~~

He began to walk out of the cemetery. When he was within sight of the exit he stopped cold.

~~ She knows where I am staying. She knows where I am from. She knows my purpose. She has seen my methods. ~~

He raised his hand to rub his forehead.

~~ And she will give these things up to save herself, as if they could. ~~

He turned around to look back where she had gone, and from whence bare whispers of the symphony came.

~~ Damn. ~~

And he started walking back.

~~ Damn. Damn. Damn. ~~

--//--

Presently he reached the mausoleum and heard the sounds of extemporaneous excavation coming from the darkness of the staircase. He removed a torch from his pack, said a word, and the torch burst into flame.

   "Lord of Knowledge and Truth,
   Guide me by sure paths to Thy respite,
   Free from error, uncertainty, and ignorance.
   Let not those vices bring harm to Thy servant
   By the hand of others, or by the hand
   Of he who attends Thy Will."

Taking a deep breath, Bartimaeus descended the stairs into the darkness below.

The stairs spiral down in a thin corkscrew, giving one the impression of a vast snake coiling up and down the central stone pillar on your left the entire way day. You pass numerous tiny outlets along the walls, where rest skeletal remains entombed in thick stone vaults. After descending through inky darkness for about 10 minutes, you both reach a corridor sealed off by a locked door of iron bars. Peering down it between the bars, you can see the intricately carved hallway beyond stretches on quite a ways; fading into shadows beyond the range of your torch. The stairs descend further still from there. From deeper down, you can hear the sounds of the orchestra playing their seemingly endless symphony clear as day.

Between chords, you can also make out the faint sounds of something skittering on the stone steps below. An unknown, disembodied squeaking emanates from the darkness further down the staircase.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:14, Sat 17 Oct 2020.

In the flickering torchlight Bartimaeus looked at Yshtar. Quietly, he asked, "How far do you intend to go? And which way: the locked door, or the downward spiral?"

Yshtar went down and down the stairs like something had drawn to her. First she didn't want to clear the rubble. Then she didn't want to go down into the darkness. Maybe it was the silent Bartimaeus who joined her or some dark magic of the place? Who knows.
The staircase went down and down as if its final destination was the Abyss. When in the corridor she shivered as if awaken from a trance. They were deep. Very deep and very alone. A mistake could easily kill them. Quiet but defiant she answered Bartimaeus.

"I've seen enough for today. But what I didn't see was any liches. See not everything is trying to devour only you. Let's go back for now but I will come back when I am more prepared to face whathever's down here."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Sat 17 Oct 2020.