Gypsy Gossip
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((To clarify: Elders have permitted the Cyric worshipers to stay in the camp. They have taken an oath. Rumor has it that one of them saved Jeni from some bandit trouble.
The Cyric worshipers sold Thrym out twice. They had no love lost for that cruel Mask worshiper.
By now the rumor would have spread through the bandit camp.))
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((quick clarification, scutum…. most of the campers have/will only have within the last day or so, gained any IC knowledge of the info contained in Riverthorns posts. I'm not aware of any Elders who were involved or even knew about these events.... (correct me if im wrong...) I myself have only NOW found out what has been going on. Its been difficult to get outsiders to talk to camp members about these events or indeed much at all when these outsiders are in camp IG.
))
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Scutum is grateful that Durai was rescued, but remains disgusted with the Camp Elders for allowing the Cyricists to remain in the camp ((are they considered oath-takers?)), and lets them know as much at every opportunity. She makes sure all her belongings are ready for her to grab at a moments notice and thinks sadly about the possibility that she will someday soon be brought into conflict against her friends in the camp.
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Tales from the Fire: Refering to a recent event…
http://nwn.black-flag.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=1645&start=40
http://nwn.black-flag.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=14381
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A small caravan from Waterdeep arrives one late night. A few tired workers unload spices, flour and other cooking supplies. One passenger, an old woman that goes by the name of Sara exits a wooded horse-driven cart. She was welcomed in by Baba to her tree home. The two old ladies happily exchange stories. Also seen entering and leave the house on one night was a shadowy figure and a scholar known as Khaya.
It seems the Michael and the other Cyric worshipers have been feeling restless these past weeks. They are constantly whispering or looking over their shoulders. Some members of the camp would have noticed a gathering of people who move about in the shadows keeping to the edge of the camp and clear of any illuminating firelight.
One late night in particular the camp members would have noticed another campfire was placed further away from the typical grouping. There you heard loud laughter coming from Michael and a very drunk and talkative man. This verbose man wears a dark outfit and a hood covering. Those who travel would immediately recognize him as Shadowstrider from Norwick. After a few moments, however, you would notice that although they carry similar features, this man is slightly younger and has a tattoo. Passers by would hear the two names Thyrm and Perdix. If anyone tried to work their way into the conversation, they were greeted with glares and silence.
Recently, the shadowy group were no where to be seen and all seemed as it should with the Cyric worshipers playing cards and chatting amongst themselves. It seemed calm until a rather large, angry and worried half-orc tore through the trees yelling for Durai. Almost knocking down stewpots, his eyes blazed hunting for someone. Calming himself, he focused on the power of this god while a few others walked in with Jeni leading the way to Michael.
Rumor has it that Durai was captured. Blatantly, it seems the Michael pointed out where the kidnapper and victim went. In a rush, they darted south. After some time, they returned with Durai no worse for the wear. After a cool down, the rescue group and a few others gathered to listen to Michael disclose information about the Shadowstrider and his brother. Apparently, the Cyricts prefer not to have this new gang of people lurking in the shadows in the camp and are willing to assist others in the capture of their leader.
((There were a lot of players here who heard this information. Rp with them to find out more details. The rumors you would hear are currently confusing and speculative.))
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keeping to the shadows, Bridie and her Guide Puppet watch the new comers.. her eyes brighten for a moment as she sends a mote of light to settle on the shoulders of one of them as they sit at the fires…. They widen in fear and the mote quickly winks out .. she hurries out into the pass, looking for someone,,.anyone... from her old days in the camp... when evil walked alongside her... something her spooked , and she is startled by a bird swooping down on her,,, in her panic she runs the wrong way,.... and is nearly killed by the channelers and faithfuls before stumbling back into camp bleeding heavily...
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Nica kneels before the pyre and gives the child his final rites. She stays put for two days, mumbling Tymorran prayers for the dead, speaking only Romani. Tears fall freely for the child she will never know, for yet another dead Rom.
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Zerrion asks a few Rom, making discreet enquiries as to the circumstances of the child's death.
Those who know him well get a distinct sense of paranoia about him, he appears to jumping at shadows. He smokes now almost continuously…
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Young Bobby, son of Berzin and a beloved Rom, was given his final rites. His small body was placed upon a funeral pyre at the crack of dawn facing north. Quietly the Rom and Gali along with a few Gaje watched on and as his ashes lifted towards the sky. He will be missed.
Tales carried by the wind speak of seeing him playing on Samâ€
s hill before fading into a radiant white light.
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Elrin sits back, leaning against a tree, hood drawn up far over his eyes. He smokes from a long-stemmed wooden pipe, the orange glow from the bowl illuminating the dark beneath his hood. He watches the newcomers carefully, wondering where they came from and why they are here… He shrugs off such thoughts as he eases back against the tree, pulling deeply from his pipe and blowing smoke rings up into the trees.
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Zerrion seems unusually absent from the conversations and socializing at the fires. He watches and listens from a distance, keeping to the shadows.
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Klaz gazes over towards the four men. He shudders slightly as he remembers an incident which happened near the jyyid roads.
Curious, he walks over and offers friendly greetings.
Klaz grins, "allos, I's Klaz, ta Firestorm of ta GREAT, goods ter sees news faces yups""Whys don'ts somes yer tells bouts yerselfs and whose yer swindles eys?" Klaz chuckles.
