3. Tavern Rumors of Peltarch

Tavern Rumors of Peltarch


  • Rumors spread about more Duergar sightings in the Orcish Cave. Apparently two wolves, a former mlemite and a warrior of some remarkable size decided to venture beyond the winter wolves to face Elite orcs, only to be chased down by a bunch of Duergar in their way back to the city. The tale involves a lot of 'handling' once close to the city walls.


  • Word spreads from the commons and through the taverns, apparently several more dark dwarf attacks have occurred in the last few days. It is whispered one of the far scouts was overheard speaking of them to several dwarves. One is said to have happened in broad daylight. But that can't be true can it, they are allergic to the sun right?


  • An unusual sight is seen in the early evening as the usually sturdy and unwavering Warziver waddled into town haggered and bloody looking like he had been kicked around rather violently. His armour was stained in all manner of blood and large cuts where seen leaking his lifeblood as he hobbled to the temple. Once he returned still looking rather under the weather Warziver attempts to report to the guards about unusual happening in the KuaToa caverns.

    Warziver goes on to report to the guards of a dangerous ambush of Yaun-ti, multiple casters, elite guards and even an assassin jumping him in the tight corridors. having killed over half of them Warziver said he barely made it by them to regretfully flee with his life barely intact. Upon reaching the mouth of the cave he reported being greeted with a very ready Duergar. After a long fight near the end of his limited Warziver claimed he was able to just barely lay low the seeming mastermind of the ambush.

    Warziver reported that the Duergar was clearly waiting, and rather calmly exclaimed in common that it seemed they could not finish Warziver off so he would do it himself instead. He concluded that it appeared the Deaugar was using the Yaun-ti like henchmen to ambush and try to kill him.


  • Scott boards a ship bound for Thay and lets his acquaintances know he will return in a few months or so

    Lady Irene' boards a boat bound for Cormyr to attend the annual meeting of nobles with the matriarch. She is excited to see her son and husband again.

  • The Halfling Defence League

    Rumor has it that a breakout was staged from the Peltarch Gaol, and a recently captured hin cutpurse of no particular note has been freed by unknown associates! No guards or prisoners were harmed in the escape attempt, but the city's constabulary has been left red-faced in light of such an escape.

    All around the city, posters have sprung up offering 1000 gold for the capture or information leading to the capture of the hin cutpurse, Plankton Flintburrow. His rough likeness adorns the posters, and he is said to be a male halfling with an olive complexion, a lean build, a bald head, and a red beard. Last seen wearing a dark robe, likely draped over him to conceal his prisoner's uniform. He is believed to have fled from Peltarch to Oscura, but his current whereabouts are unknown.


  • It is heard that the Mighty Knights Requietum recently took a delve into the cold caves and returned to the city several days later, packs filled with magic items and potions!


  • Rumour has it that the Black Sails Trading Coster have exciting new stock for sale at the back room of the Lucky Ferret Inn. Fresh off the boat, these imported items are limited in numbers, but customers may speak to the proprietor of the store, captain Sabre Seesaw, if they wish for additional shipments.


  • "What is this, ~Norwick~?", remarks the bardess Isolde Garibaldi to a small group of adventurers, whilst staring in horror at the ogre head roasting on a spike in on a roaring bonfire at the Commons. She shudders, a petulant pout forming on her red lips in her continued lamentations: "It's an alarming trend! Adventurers obsessively closing city gates, bully guards, brutish 'champions' thumping their chests - and now this? By Sune, we must fight it, even if I must prance and scatter fairy dust and rose petals all across the city! The Jewel shan't fall into barbarism, not on ~my~ watch!"

    And on that brutish champion note, rumour has it a fierce Garagossan fighter took on the best the city had to offer at the jousting grounds, making short work of most challengers but for a few. Most noticably, a brazenly cheating mercenary claimed a dubious victory, whilst the grey-plated Sonja landed a resounding win.


  • After much rest, and more than a few jugs of wine. Cormac Randolph tells his account of the siege. The saga begins with himself, a lone rider approaching from the south.

    "..and as I looked across the sorry battlefield I couldn't believe my eyes. The Ogres' siege weapons had caused panic and scattering among the ranks of those heroes who had sallied out to meet them. All appeared confusing.. chaotic. Grrrhhh... what else was I to do? I drew my sword and blasted my horn to signal my arrival; and charged heedlessly into battle with the first beast I saw. One fell easy, the next I charged and was rushed from the side by an ally! He smashed my horse's skull and I was thrown, vulnerable and injured from the fall. I pushed myself up, and with sword and shield in hand, I rejoined the fight..."

    His tale continues with an account of much blood and gore. He spares no detail in the savagery of his longsword and his axe; a great deal of self praise is given to himself and his battle prowess.

    "...All at once, from the North I watched as a flaming boulder fell from on high; black smoke streaking from behind like the tail of some malicious beast. When I saw it land upon the great bear I knew as my good friend Uljas's wife, my heart became as stone. I raged with an uncommon bloodlust and charged the two Ogres nearest the smoldering ruin of my friend's woodland bride; and I stole their lives away..."

    He gives an account of his journey to the higher ridge further to the northwest along the treeline, and of his daring and rage-fuelled thunderous approach to where the enemy siege weapons were positioned. He told the tale of his command over the battlefield and his great fury in this now very personal one man war. Embellishing greatly; but such is the life of a bard.

    "...when I saw their ranks thinning and when they were the ones who had been thrown into chaos, I slung back my shield and brought forth my axe. T'was then that they knew death and doom was upon them. I issued many challenges on the field of war and all who faced me fell. When I finally lead the charge into their siege lines all Hell seemed to actually break loose! As each catapult operator fell a team worked at my back; when I finally reached the end of the line a great roaring explosion ripped through the line of catapults and destroyed them all! I leaped forth with the fiery blast and was carried far..."

    His tale continues with obscene and gratuitous violence and bloodshed. The description of guts strewn upon the ground and skulls split with pouring brains is repeated often to delight the patrons of the various taverns he visits. He always ends his visit with a vigorous and celebratory song of victory. It goes something like this...

    Victory! We fought hard and prevailed
    Brutally! We were fighting

    Stormy seas! Rolling thunder, piercing hail
    Battlefield! lit by lightning

    Eagerly! We filled the waves with enemies
    Hungrily! Ravens cawing

    Home shore calls!
    We return on bloody seas

    Twilight falls!
    Darkness crawling...

    So pour the beer for thirsty men
    A drink that they have earned!

    And pour a beer for those who fell
    For those who did not return!

    Raise your horns raise them up to the sky!
    We will drink to glory tonight!
    Raise your horns for brave fallen friends!
    We will meet where the beer never ends!

    No regrets! We went out to war and strife
    To protect! King and country

    Victory! Honor those who gave their life
    Willingly! We will not grieve

    So pour the beer for thirsty men
    A drink that they have earned!

    And pour a beer for those who fell
    For those who did not return!

    Raise your horns raise them up to the sky!
    We will drink to glory tonight!
    Raise your horns for brave fallen friends!
    We will drink tonight!

    By the time the chorus is sung for the third time, the hall usually is joining in with patriotic and battle-savage cheer. Especially in Norwick where Cormac's fame is perhaps greater...

    Raise your horns raise them up to the sky!
    We will drink to glory tonight!
    Raise your horns raise them up to the sky!
    We will drink tonight!

    Raise your horns raise them up to the sky!
    We will drink to glory tonight!
    Raise your horns for brave fallen friends!
    We will meet in Valhalla again!

    ...He earns his keep with tale and song, where the ale and wine are offered freely he stays longer -- but such is the way of Cormac that he keeps few friends, and travels often. Bleak and cheerless and without taking much personal merriment; and traditionally with no more warmth beyond what a jug of wine and a cheap woman can provide...

    ((Raise Your Horns - Amon Amarth

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSlYyOebGn4 ))


  • Chaos ensued as guards arrested two elves for disturbing the peace and resisting arrest. Rumors abounded of a possible elven terrorist threat, and additional guards were deployed throughout the city.

    Mere days later, an ogre marauding force laid siege to the city with catapults and over a hundred warriors. The city walls were damaged and some civilians killed. A stalwart group of adventurers rushed out of the besieged city and killed the attacking force, though the battle took literal days.


  • Word goes around town that the merchants are unhappy, and who is to blame? Why, that gnome Filifred, who was seen attempting to murder a bystander in broad daylight! Despite his protestations that it was an innocent mistake, the shopkeepers of Peltarch are united in their distrust of the chaotic caster, who not a tenday ago managed to make a bunch of paying adventurers disappear in another "mistake" from the commons


  • Supposedly, an impromptu "Inquisition" was held by the massive Inquisitor, Cecil, in the Tourney Grounds recently, about a matter from months ago. Bystanders were almost completely silent with the obvious exception of a certain Bardess while a sentence was meted out, some say due to the Inquisitor's trademark stare, which seemed to touch everyone in attendance at some point.

    Some days after, the same inquisitor came crawling out of the sewers with, of all things, an Illithid corpse, for those that can identify such. To the rest, he had a handful of squid impossibly tied to some poor dead humanoid from the looks of it, and it's super gross.

    Either way, he handed the mess to a guard, and some healing was done in the Commons before the group dispersed, looking filthy and worse for wear, but alive.


  • Rumours soon spread of a vicious stand-off outside the Lighthouse temple. By moonlight they fought, blade and flail clashing, to the sound of battlehymns and warcries: Nate Wingates, Cerulean Knight and master bard, against a fierce, barrel-chested fighter known to some in the city as Galen. From midnight to the cusp of dawn, they fought, 'til finally the Knight staggered back against the Moonmaiden's shrine, ragged and bloodied. Sunrise saw a sudden retreat from Galen, still poised and primed for the fight - for vampires, they say, cannot stand the light of day...


  • ...Narry a tenday past the alleged slaying of a black dragon, Cormac Randolph tells tale of a green dragon that had nested in the wilderness nearby the Scar. Naturally, the tale told is full of personal glorification and mostly without embellishment...


  • "Less than a fortnight ago, in this very Commons, Tirreth told tales from the Narfell of his adventuring youth. 'Mimics', he said with a shudder. 'Mimics!', I exclaimed with elation, for having thought them too wonderously peculiar to truly be real. An adventurer's worst nightmare, the treasure that eats YOU, so deliciously ironic! So tonight, as we entered the very last chamber of the kobold warrens and saw the rows of tempting chests lining the walls... of course I thought of mimics! I said it out loud, about to laugh when mirth grew chill in my chest. There were dead kobolds strewn around the room - chewed upon, gnashed and savaged! ...wait, mimics, for ~real~?"

    Isolde pauses, elegant brow raised in suspense as she stuffs another forkful of jam-laden pancakes past her red lips, munching and waving a finger in the air as though to bid her audience wait.


  • Some long time after the metallic smell faded from the air in the commons, and things once again started seeming safe ... another dazzling flash of light, lightning and sound overwhelming the senses, ceased to reveal a pack of adventurers out of nowhere.

    They landed from various heights and positions, several of which were predictably ... atop the sundial.

    A cry of rage and despair was heard on the air, "Damned adventurers!!!!"

    Or at least, that's what they say...


  • The commons rocks and shudders and light flares brighter then the day. Screams are heard and citizens run ans power flares out of control in the middle of the jewel. When things settle there is a hot burning smell in the air and over a dozen individuals are missing, who were there but moments before. Was it an attack? Who knows...I am sure another ale would probably help though.....


  • While rumours of vampires may at this point have become commonplace in Peltarch, the most recent story ends with the reassuring staking and baking of a fanged culprit, deep within the old city Barrows. The most curious details of the tale are the vampire's sect of scantily clad female acolytes, along with the denouncement of the divine in calling for 'Clarity' through undeath.

  • The Halfling Defence League

    The city is abuzz with rumors of a sighting of the rare and majestic albino elephant seal! Apparently a magnificent specimen was spotted swimming north from the scar into the Icelace lake, before resting upon a dock in Peltarch's harbor.

    Others, however, claim that the "seal" was little more than a profoundly large (and loud) orc who had somehow wound up floating down the scar after being badly injured. Rumors go on to state that an orc of similar description is currently recovering from said grievous injuries at the Lighthouse Temple.

  • T

    Rumor has it, some gnome is speaking of a great expedition to Anauroch.