Tavern Rumors of Peltarch
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Beorn Battlemail was seen stomping into the Peltarch Bank with a couple kin from Aura Runedar. A few shouts are heard coming from within and soon after the dwarves are seen carrying a huge jingling chest onto a horse drawn wagon outside Peltarch's South gate. They spend a few moments strapping it down and checking to make sure the ballista rigged to the wagon is good to go before heading South down the Nars Pass.
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She speaks in a soft tone to him, not pressuring him yet knowing of the plans for the funeral as they are spoken of
Hun, the others have planned a funeral ceremony to celebrate the life of Shallyah, you should be there more then anyone dear. It will do you good to gain your own closure in this.
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_Walter's response to Eilonna doesn't come quickly.
"I can't come with you. If I leave this place I… I'll surely die. The grief is still too near and - this shrine, it's... it - I don't know what it does. It's the only balm for my broken heart. Please leave me alone".
He places his hands flat ontop of the altar and hangs his head, his quiet pleading continues as the man clearly still aches over the loss of his one love._
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Waiting for what she believes to be a good enough time, Eilonna allows herself to become visible behind him setting a hand on his shoulder and speaks softly to him. Her words only in his hearing range as she mutters something to him softly (( To be sent in a tell )) and she gives him a sad and understanding smile. She waits to see his reaction and to see if he will follow her.
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As time passes, the broken Cerulean Knight Walter is no less grieved by the loss of his great love Shallyah. Where his time had been spent in the gutters and alleyways where he could be alone and wish for all sorts of morbid horrors to befall him, it is now spent in the Sunite shrine within the city. Although time has passed his prayers at the altar are still paused and broken by sobs and occasionally bitter curses, more often than not followed with remorseful apology. He stays, from time to time, until he's asked to leave. He hasn't been seen on duty for a long time by now… nor has he allowed himself to talk with anyone.
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General Del'Rosa has been seen taking a few short walks here and there outside the Temple of Triad. While he seems like he's not slept in ages, it seems he's slowly taking a change for the better.
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Eilonna watches from the shadows, sadness in her eyes as she thinks of the many times she spoke to them both, only when he is truly out of it does she approach, healing him from any wounds he has astained in his drunken state doing what she can for the poor man, in stealth she follows him and makes sure he always finds the badge no matter where he whips it. She keeps close to him even when he doesn't see her ensuring that he does not manage to slit his own throat if he seems he is serious on it. Always once he is out she speaks in a soft tone knowing he likely cannot hear her
I know your pain all too well dear….A pain I wish you didn't have to suffer, but until you are well, I will be in the shadows watching over you. Sleep well Walter, and may you find some peace of mind in your sleep.
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_Walter's trips to the Mystran shrine halt around the same time as his Ceruleans uniform seems to disappear as his garb, replaced with normal - civilian clothing. For some time now he's been noted to wander aimlessly around the streets staring down at his booted feet - in one hand a silvery chain, in the other an object that appears to be a Defenders badge. It's plain to see from the look in his eyes that he's not slept, or at least not slept well for a while now; other rumors circulating say he's only really asleep when he passes out from the whisky of which he now reeks. Indeed, even the stray dogs and beasts in the city seem more concerned with their well being as they move to find shelter from the cold and from the rain. Not Walter, his vacant eyes don't seem to recognize rain anymore - how can he? And he's been shaking since he got the news anyway. There's nothing that'll warm him, surely. Not anymore.
From day to weary day his unchanged civilian clothing becomes more ragged and worn, the man begins to look a true mess. He's been noted to mutter drunkenly to himself when the whisky finally hits and all sensibility leaves him, a pointless search for comfort from a bottle - all it seems to do is make his heart ache and the tears begin again. On more than one occasion it's likely that he'd be seen throwing the Defenders' badge as hard as he could down the street - or against the wall of a building and screaming at it like an animal, but every time he does this a panic seems to wash over him and sober him, and in a childlike if drunken fashion he'll run to where the badge lands and search for it - for hours if need-be - until he finds it.
In private, when the world is at it's darkest and Walter finds his lowest points, when all the eyes of the world are closed in sleep or concerned with other business, he's sat - on more than one occasion - with the broken neck of one of his glass bottles held against his throat - tears streaming down his face as he calls himself a coward in every manner, in every language he knows - willing himself to 'do it' until he breaks, and his heart shatters, and he falls into drunken sleep again with burning tears in his eyes.
The routine begins anew with each passing day. Perhaps people will forget he was ever a Defender, or that he had ever been a wizard, perhaps he hopes that he'll never hear the name "Walter" again as his fingers, often cut from broken glass - and dirty from living in the street - find both the comfort of absolution and the agony of condemnation in the caress of Shallyah's name which is punched into her dogtags._
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There was a commotion in the Mermaid's upstairs Common Room last night. Somebody woke up screaming, or at least yelling a bit. It was that red-haired cleric Shesarai. She's been sleeping peacefully in the Common Room for years, never bothering anybody, but something seemed to be wrong. She woke up twice in the night, yelling both times. Then blushing furiously, she whispered "Sorry!" to everyone, gathered up her things, and headed downstairs. She was last seen heading into the Residential District.
Login: AubreyMaturin
Characters: Romulus Grey, Bard the bowman
Trotter, Spooky halfling ranger
Shesarai Foutopolis, red-haired cleric of Mystra
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Besides visiting the Lighthouse Temple regularly, it seems the Cerulean Knight, Walter, has been inquiring around the docks-lands, in particular within the more 'high-end' merchant haunts. At the last, he makes his way full circle back to the Lighthouse to see if he can't find Firthram for a private chat…
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A murmur goes around that the "blessing" bestowed by the priests of Siamorphe at the census line is actually a spell cast to detect noble blood lines.A fuss was made over one old man who they took away into City Hall
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The Cerulean Knight 'Walter', when not rumored to be eating cats or dragging bloody meat-bits or dead beasts around the city, has been spending some time within the Lighthouse temple, in particular within the Mystran Shrine. Though the interest of most may stop there, a wizard visiting Mystran clergy shouldn't cause any to bat an eyelash after all…
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A new face is seen around City Hall, but the most noticeable feature is not his face at all, but his rather elaborate robes. Telric Greywood is seen speaking with the scribe Morris Percandel as they loudly speak of Telric's new duties as Assistant Scribe. He quickly hurries out and purchases wax candles, bottles of ink, parchment and new quills which he places on a newly cleared and quite cramped section of Morris' desk.
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Morris Purcandel is seen sitting within city hall behind a desk which is facing the entrance. A stack of paper sits on his left, several jars of ink on his right and a spare quill tucked into the top of his ear. He appears to be in a state of pure scribal meditation as he awaits the coming storm of the first census wave! Any passerby causes him to jump in his seat and check the clock before reclining once again into concentration.
"Soon, Morris." he says to himself "Soon."
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Well-known bard Romulus Grey has been seen sitting in the Peltarch Commons for the past few nights wearing black velvet and chanting the story of Rass and Penny to any who cared to listen. He refused any money offered, and said that in these trouble times of Martial Law, he just wanted people to take heart and remember the old stories and pass them on.
The full tale of Rass and Penny can be found in the Tales By the Fire thread on these Forums, under the heading "The Songs of Romulus".
Login: AubreyMaturin
Characters: Romulus Grey, Bard the bowman
Trotter, Spooky halfling ranger
Shesarai Foutopolis, Red-haired cleric of Mystra
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The wild and extroverted - some say crazy - redhead known as Elaine who seems to frequent the city quite a lot, is lately found around the commons area juggling all kinds of fruits on her nose. While some just take it as confirmation that the girl is completely nuts, others are just content because while she's doing that, she's not wreaking havoc, and she even seems slightly less talkative…
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South of the Peltarch walls and all the way to the shrine of Tempus, the land blessed by Chauntea lies scorched and burnt after the enormous red dragon's attack. The dragon's arrival was reportedly heralded by a large number of fire salamanders pouring forth from a portal near the shrine, setting the ground and several of the defenders rushing to meet them on fire. One Cerulean is said to have fallen in the defence of the city, the dragon spreading panic and blisteringly hot breaths of fire before taking to the skies with one of its fallen followers clutched in a gigantic clawed foot.
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Siamorphean clerics have been appearing in the city. It is unknown why they are here, but their numbers are increasing. They've mostly been seen in the different libraries located within the city.
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Hearing the rumor of Rass' return, Romulus was overheard asking: "Was Penny there too? I would really love to meet her!"
AubreyMaturin
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The land south of peltarch has been schorched by a dragon!
Was it Rass?
Was it Maria?
Majority of "adventurers" who have been close to the dragon are saying Rass.
