Rumors heard throughout Oscura.
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Glunk and Thuggrim have been seen quite often of late, clearing out the Kuo-tua lair, with talk between them about a temple of some sort. No-one is ever sure what the Garagosians are on about, but something sure has them focused at the moment.
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Distant rumblings and tremors in the ground are reported from the west of Oscura, seemingly originating from somewhere in or around the nearby caves. Three Black Sails exit the caves some time after the disturbances cease, looking laden with the customary Kua Toa loot. In spite of what appears a successful raid, the three seem unusually silent or perhaps troubled.
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Recently a stranger has been spending more and more time around Oscura, the docks in particular… He is a young man, tall and with dark hair. He doesn't necessarily draw much attention to himself, save from perhaps the scrutinies of the paranoid, and the present merchants. He spends some time browsing the rarer items in stock, and when asked if searching for something in particular, he inquires about 'Rothe Cheese' for some reason. Although he refuses to buy any.
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The whispers floating about in the darkness seem to have grown a bit more intense in the past few days time. Anyone seeming to pass near the Well of Souls is taken aback, should they take the time to listen, at the swirling confusion that hides itself within the unrest found there.
Onlookers and gossips spending a bit of time near the well have seen a Sister of Bones moving back and forth between the Forgotten city and the Undercity moving deliberately between the crypts and some undisclosed location in the Forgotten city.
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Mercy, the stout and usually gleeful priestess of Umberlee was recently spotted storming out of the Shining Coppers in a state of notable distress. The bluehaired fountain of mischief was pale and wild-eyed, spouting incomprehensible accusations at the Captain and Lieutenant before disappearing into the darkness of the city streets.
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In some not so dark corners, old posters are torn down, and the following new ones appear:
@56a54f88b4=[size=18:56a54f88b4:
Feast of the Moon Festival"] ((Click here for full sized poster.))
((Saturday, May 19th - 7 pm GMT))
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A small group was seen heading out from the undercity looking rather worn. Notably a woman and an elf of the group then made their way to the tower in the lower district, after which the elf was seen leaving alone, an excited expression on his face but his eyes watch warily around him.
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Sauntering (and occasionally stumbling in the darkness) around the various marketplaces of Oscura, Black Sails Lt Sabre Seesaw has expressed a desire to purchase, of all things, a tressym. Why the sailor lass would want a small winged cat is unknown - perhaps the Sails parrot suffered a grievous end by making the wrong comment once too often, or perhaps Sabre is wanting to try her hands at a different sort of merchandise? No one knows for sure but Sabre seems rather keen, letting it be known that she has ample coin to spend for the right type of creature.
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A strong tremor was felt within the last few days, rumblings from beneath the city itself and felt moreso from within the Undercity.
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Word seeps out about a meeting taking place in the Coppers between the noted wizard Larpos and a woman known as Zara. Whatever the two discussed remains the subject of speculation only, but it is said the wizard walked away from the inn with a pleased smile on his face.
In unrelated news, a group of Black Sails recently gathered in the very same inn for a celebratory drink or two. The talk circled mainly about duergar, and inspite of looking tired, the spirits seemed mainly high. At least one of the Sails seemed to grow irritable though, storming out of the Coppers in a huff for reasons unknown.
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In and about the crypts of the Forgotten city there is a strange draw. Not certain as to its source, many have been seen moving into and out of the crypts themselves as though searching for something.
It has been overheard by a commoner at the Well of Souls that deep within the crypts themselves is a strange heat and a calling of some sort that takes some and captivates them.
An odd sight as well is the appearance of small holes in the floor of the lower crypts and cracks in the walls. One adventurer reported that the calling seemed stronger when near one of the holes.
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A strange elderly man has been seen now and again sitting in the park. He carries an old, worn pack with him where ever he goes and is happy to discuss the contents with whomever asks. The potential sale of said contents is greeted with even more enthusiasm.
The fellow has a rather odd air about him but is pleasant to speak with all the same.
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Sharn is dead. Unless something can be done to raise the shattered and broken remains from his Coldstone peak lair there will be little force left to unite the giants orcs and bugbears against the goodly surface towns. Where next will the eyes of their armies and paladins fall?
((Thanks to Nilla, Andelas, Scutum and Coann for DMing and the many many players that slogged through the mammoth and rather tense expedition))
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It seems that there is a good deal of activity in and around the crypts and cemetary. Comings and goings and and rumors of a door?
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Explorers tell of powerful undead encountered in the crypts over mugs of ale in the Coppers.
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A strange darkness has settled in in the Underdark. Commonfolk and Guards near the gate to the Undercity are heard talking now and again about a strange occurance. All was seemingly normal and then the thick darkness came. Some point to the lady that sits by the fire and the fair skinned elf that was seen speaking with her when it came.
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_Lady Rose Hollowmoon, a frequent occupant of the Banshee as well, stares at Mercy in cold disdain. She seats herself in the former chancellors table, but seems at loss how to help him in any way.
Rose has not been seen fighting the war, for some reason._
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_A thoroughly lonely and depressed Mercy has taken to the bottle, and having crawled inside, her perspective must have been altered by the thick glass at the bottom. Slouched like an old sack of tatties in the Banshee, Mercy casts her boozy eyes across the room, their lusty gaze seeking some distraction in a satisfyingly doughty dwarf-hand with copious quantities of body hair, or even an enthusiastic human in a pinch.
Her imagination, however, is kindled when her gaze alights upon Lucidious, at whom she winks and raises her glass in salute with a bullish guffaw. Shuffling her stool for a better position, Mercy continues to stare at the elf, licking her lips, all evening._
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A pasty elf in rather plain red and grey robes can now be found rather frequently at a table at the banshee, usually sampling dark red wines while reading quietly at a table by himself.
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The blooded Tiain has been searching records to see if a man named Lorence Carter ever took the oath.
On off time she is also spending a good deal of time researching prices and methods of making combustible powders and fluids in the library.
