New Whispers at the Fire
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Word is that a panther has been prowling the Rawlinswood, culling any goblins that pester it. Some rumors indicate this panther hasn't been seen in a long time.
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_Rumor has it that a Goblin snuck its way into town, fortunately the greenskin's adventure was cut short when Cormac, with the aid of a Faerie-Dragon and a fair blonde woman, slayed the bad-lucked critter. Cormac reportedly dragged the corpse out of town at the request of a Redcloak.
No guessing then as to story behind the dead Goblin that might be found crucified upon a tree just beyond the walls of town; a grim warning totem to any other adventurous Goblins…_
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A peculiar and powerfully built construct has been sighted at the south gates a few times now, creeping guardsmen and adventurers alike out. Chill factor aside, the construct has remained unhostile, always requesting to speak to Norwick citizen Akseli.
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Lounging around at the Inn, Cormac begins a tale when the common room is just dark enough that the shadows - as thrown by candles and fireplace - begin to dance and slink, and fuel the imaginations of tired and simple folk. He tells the tale of a hole in the ground where wild cats prowl, a hole that leads unassumingly enough to another world it seems - a place of spirits and demons, where warriors must tread carefully and where sorcery rules. The tale goes on to suggest that the ghosts are in fact the ancestral spirits of warriors that he himself had put to dirt long ago, and that in trying to enforce their terrible vengeance they had left their treasures unguarded. The tale ends as he drains perhaps his third cup of mead, and through a boyish smirk he ends the tale on the bold claim that the gods themselves enabled him to trick the creatures of this shadow world in the deep earth into giving up their lost and ancient treasures.
"…of course, as part of the ghosts' curse upon me - I could take neither coin nor magic blade from the trove. Lest I, Cormac Randolph, too become as they are..."
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_Another wave of attacks by the goblins and their beetles hits Norwick, though this time a sizable and strong group of defenders stand ready. The attack is repelled, though this time a good few of the goblins seem reluctant to throw themselves at the gates, forcefully driven on from behind. Many are noticably malnourished and weak and after the leader figures are slain, the rest appear to scatter.
Is the Goblin Hold sending its rejects to preoccupy the defenders, the bottom of the barrel overflow from the teeming mines, or has the ambitious beetle breeding program simply consumed all the available food sources within?_
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_As the rhythmic thump of wardrums is heard by the south gate, adventurers gather in preparation for an attack. However, instead of arrows, steel and chittering beetles, a trio of hobgoblins can be seen approaching. One of them proceeds to sing a song about a nimble woman and her apparantly many attractive qualities, while the drummers thump out a steady, up-beat rythm.
As soon as the song ends, the small group of hobgoblins take their leave, without hostilities. Weird…_
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_In the shadow of war, ordinary life goes on for the people of Norwick, who still eat, sleep and work to make ends meet under increasingly difficult circumstances. At the lumber mill, a strange rumour circulates, unrelated to goblins or giant beetles.
One of the workers there insists on having seen a sight to chill any man to the bone, out in the ruins at night: a female figure, beautiful from a distance but hideously disfigured up close, with eyes as cold as death itself… though, perhaps this is just a ghost story designed as an excuse to avoid venturing past the gates in these troubled times?_
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_An overheard conversation in the Grapevine sounded a bit weepy and full of angst. The red-haired cleric Shesarai was having dinner with her brother Romulus, the Troff Legion's deputy commander. She seemed to be telling him about a recent battle at Norwick's South Gate. Although it ended in victory, she seemed very upset.
"I was on the top of the hill where Ukka usually stands, manning the big ballista there. Huge beetles and goblins swarmed at the gates. I fired all the fire bolts we had, causing huge amounts of damage. But they still kept coming. I switched to my magicked arrows and started picking off the wounded ones."
"It was dark and foggy, and I could only barely see what I was shooting at from up there. Suddenly, the shadowy shapes of half a dozen bugbears swinging big axes came up from the south. It looked like they were joining the battle. I had saved my big spells for when we were direly pressed and I thought this was it. So I hit the massed melee of bugs and bugbears with an Ice Storm."
"Bugbear axemen raged at me and some came running towards me screaming for my head. Luckily, there were no archers among them so I stood my ground and started firing my bow as rapidly as possible. I dropped at least one of them!"
"But everybody on our side started screaming at me to hold fire. I stopped, but then Elaine hit me with a Hold Spell and froze me. I had made a big mistake! The bugbears were on our side! How was I supposed to know that when I could barely even see them?"
"Negotiations started down at the gate where a huge bugbear leader spoke for his tribe. As soon as the Hold spell wore off, I hid under the archer's platform and remained concealed for the rest of the encounter. I felt so bad. I kept saying I was sorry. I healed everyone I could, cured some disease. I even raised poor Silver from the dead after we found his body in front of the gates. But now Mystra is going to be so mad at me, along with everyone else."
Romulus answering words to her were not audible. The only one overheard was "Ostromog." What is going on? Are things so bad that the bugbear tribe that nearly destroyed Norwick several years ago now wants to work with us against the goblins? What is this world coming to?
Login: AubreyMaturin
Characters: Romulus Grey, Bard the bowman
Trotter, Spooky halfling ranger
Shesarai Foutopolis, red-haired cleric of Mystra_
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_The name Ostromog circulates in many rumours following another vicious goblin-and-beetle attack on the gates. Curiously enough, it is said that while the goblin forces pressed the Norwick gates, the bugbear king's own warriors struck the screeching masses from behind, laying waste to a score of big bugs with their massive greataxes. But would they stop there?
Some reports from the battle field mention bugbear screams of rage, demanding the head of a certain archer, though others claim some kind of negotiations took place. What is certain is that for the first time in many weeks, the goblin tide was halted at the gates. And further out in the open field, dozens of bugbear bodies lie scattered amongst the huge beetle carcasses._
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_In recent buzz among the gossipers, the weathered ranger Rasuil was seen speaking near the recently erected Peacekeeper supply station, a short time before a gesture from the woodman's hand caused a banner of Malar placed nearby to erupt in a pillar of flame, reducing the totem to ashes.
The old Wolf strode from the town shortly afterward and within the hour the skies above the old ruins darkened and split open. Dozens of flashes lit up the area as the crackles of lightning and peels of thunder rolled out, accompanied in their wake by the unmistakable screech of large felines.
Hours later the ranger returned, heavily stained with blood and riddled with claw marks across his skin and leathers. Swift southbound scouts would easily find the bodies of six dead men dressed in the colors of the Beastlord, one whose chest had been ripped open and heart removed, along with the red-stained shells of nearly a dozen Malarite panthers._
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Countless corpses litter the area near the small goblin cave by the lake, after the clash and clang of battle could be heard all the way to Norwick's gates. Bugbears, goblins and beetles lie like broken dolls in the blood-soaked warzone… though whether they were fighting each other or the mighty wizard in the nearby tower just threw a temper tantrum, the rumours are unclear on.
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@d8850eb7a9=Karnivor:
…The temple of Chauntea suffers heavy damage as giant stag beetles ram into the building repeatedly, though Yllalyn and her staff manage to avoid casualties within.
*Z spends countless hours clearing rubble, reinforcing, and then repairing the wall.
Others, such as his good friend Beourn, lend him a hand when they can.*
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Unknown to many of the town at the time but filtering back through the guard another tale is told. As the defenders were recovering and the town celebrating Albryanna and a few adventurers were at the south gates inspecting the filed of battle. It was then the other goblin tribes took advantage of the carnage. Assassins were sent to spy and probe the defenses followed quickly by larger forces, that turned into a full scale infantry assault.
And once again Albryanna, unbeknownst to the city, was called upon to defend them. The tales are more garbled since the guards were tasked with the town and only the few defenders stood the gate. One story did make it back to the inn. At one point Albryanna was completely buried beneath the raging bodies of her small attackers. The often seen figure of Vick told the tale of the mountain of writhing goblins that shuddered and then collapsed from within in a tide of blood and viscera. Albryanna was a sight to rage fear in anyone's heart as she exploded from the mass. It certainly proved so as the few surviving goblins scampered back into the night.
Townsfolk and guards alike spread the tale quickly when the tired and blood soaked figure wearily stumbled back into town with the support of Rasuil.
Not once but twice in the matter of days she had turned back the tide of attackers. Little mention was made of any others in the tales growing on everyone's lips…
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Revelry goes late into the night as spirits are passed and stories are told around the hearths and fires. The defense had held. Yes for the first time in weeks the goblins and their monster beetles had been stopped short of breaching the town. And a leader has come forth, taken the guards in hand and made a steel guantlet of an open hand.
Whispers, nay, bold stories are bandied back and forth.
First the usual warnings of an impending attack but from the beginning it seemed different. Albryanna was seen in town talking to Rasuil and the men then moving down to the southern defenses to inspect things and as night came the first sounds of fighting could be heard. But this was different. The forward guard told of a heavy conflict outside the gates where the skies literaly rained acid and fire and lighting danced on the shells of giant beetles. And at the gates stood a familiar figure, refusing to be drawn out onto that field. Standing in the gates, back straight and sword drawn. And when the tides came she stood and rallied the defense.
Ah the tales. Back and forth the defenders fought but not in desperation but in coordinated movements. Every movement back was counterpointed by an assault from the catapults and archers on the hills. Every drive forward was sustained with steady intent. Nets were launched to entangle the attackers and then they were pounded with catapult fire and hails of arrows.
Rasuill could be seen moving about the hill tops, helping range the catapults and calling encouragement to the archers. Word is he has been personally giving instruction to these forces.
Scouts could be seen appearing to call information to the commander and the catapult crews, warning of larger forces, then disapearing into the night.
The White figure of Ralrydor was oft mentioned as he raged against the goblins and bettles flinging magic and sword about. Healing where and when he could but never idle.
At one point the bettles drove to the very top of the hill but the guard rallied to their commander's call and would not let them pass. And twas then that the tied turned. The call was for no more. And they advanced one step at a time behind their leader. No more ground was given. What came at them died and then one more bloody step. And so it was…one bloody step forward and none back. The first gate was retaken, and then the second and finally at the southern gate the last of the attackers was put down. And then the silence. It was as if the night took a breath and held it, finally broken by the cheers from the soldiers and then the town. Victory!!! Norwick!! Albryanna!!!
But One name overshadowed all, was mixed into every tale. Albryanna.
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Once again, goblins and their huge beetles attacked Norwick and penetrated the defenses to reach the center of town. All were slain eventually, but several guards lost their lives. General Theaon of the Legion and Private Silver led the defenders, who also were joined by an elven scout and the red-haired cleric of Mystra. That one exhibited some really strange behavior. She kept running around while huge stag beetles chased her, and then stopping to cast Cure Disease spells on two huge bugs. All that did was enrage the bugs further. It also seemed to disturb the cleric a lot.
Login: AubreyMaturin
Characters: Romulus Grey, Bard the bowman
Trotter, Spooky halfling ranger
Shesarai Foutopolis, Red-haired cleric of Mystra
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_The natives of the Rawlinswood are restless of late, the beetles success perhaps stirring the lust for battle and experimentation in tribes beyond their own realm. From the south, several waves of goblins arrive with the odd bugbear thrown into the mix, some monsterously oversized. And all the while, the goblin borderlands and beyond continue to teem with chittering beetles and howling goblin cries…
The most recent attack by the chitinous foe sees a mass of beetles pushing past the defenders into Norwick itself, eagerly spurred on by their goblin handlers. The temple of Chauntea suffers heavy damage as giant stag beetles ram into the building repeatedly, though Yllalyn and her staff manage to avoid casualties within._
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One morning Brumir Silverhammer comes out from the Dwarven Hold rubbing his head. He notices some of the townsfolk are giving him strange looks, as if they are surprised to see him.
"Oy wut da fark ye all lookin' at me like ah'm dead fer?"
After a brief conversation with some of the townsfolk, Brumir looks stunned.
"Wut!? Ye sayin' Gralin's Mum came by an' abducted me! HAR! Dat be horse shite! Iffn' Gralin's Mum took me ah'd nay be here, trust me. But ah must admit, ah have a huge farkin' hangover an' da last thing ah remember were wakin' up at da Tuck-Me-Inn."
Brumir then tugs his beard
"In fact, most o da last month is a blur ta me."
Brumir then walks by the Norwick Fairgrounds
"Oy, why da fark dere be hin guts everywhere?"
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To: General Theaon,
General, I wish to report very strange happenings in the Rawlingswood Northeast Far. While doing a routine patrol though these forests, I did not see one Hobgoblin or Umberhulk. I thoroughly investigated the area, and detected no signs of a battle having taken place. I thought it very curious.
However, on 2 subsequent patrols, at the appointed patrol times, I encountered the same mysterious happening, of no Hobgoblins or Umberhulk. I am won't to understand this or what is or has occurred. The only other significant item that was noticed, was deep and constant sounds of thunder rumbling, however, no lightning was seen.
I submit this report, for your learned consideration, and recommend that the legion take note, and perhaps investigate further, perhaps into some of the caves in the area.
Humbly submitted,
Private Silver Chalice, Paladin of Torm
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Often times Artemis follows a short distance behind the seasoned ranger during his scouting jaunts, keeping invisible but always ready to give them a hasty return to town should trouble rear its head.
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Despite waves of greens and vermin already defeated in the latest strikes, Rasuil soon reports dozens of massive bugs and hordes of greens already at the ready for further attacks, further increasing the tension by noting a fiendish presence within their ranks.
While he holds no proper authority to do such, he urges the militia to "use it or lose it", directing the gates guard to be doubled and every available archer to be positioned along the southern cliffs.
Murmuring to no one in particular as he makes his way south once more, the old wolf doesn't seem to be holding his breath for any such action to be taken.
"This is Ostromog all o'er again, except this lot ain't gonna be interested in prisoners.. farkin' people ne'er listen, till it's too late."
