Tavern Rumors of Peltarch
UnholyCalls last edited by
After a very public and heated argument between Cormac and Varya, which drew a crowd in the Commerce District, many people who pass through the taverns talk, jeer and argue over this and that. It's clear there is fallout from their public airing of dirty laundry, and as more people seem to argue about it, the line between what was actually said or implied, and what those who have picked a side proclaim was said, is starting to grow blurry.
"I heard that Cormac said the paladin has demon potatoes on her farm."
"I heard that bastard Cormac works with shadows that were popping up all over the place."
"They said his girlfriend was a demon... maybe that's why he's so angry all the time."
"Working with the enemy, disgusting, why aren't they in jail?"
"What if he was behind that big ol' thing that was eating people?"
"But she's a paladin... who do we trust if not paladins?"
"If they were involved... who else was?!"
One can only hope the storm of rumormongering, muttering and arguing about who was right about what will pass. But for now, the talk of the town was that very... very heated argument.
In contrast to the children's games, the real Isolde looked considerably more grim as the time to depart finally arrived. She dodged both smalltalk and debates at the Commons, hastily filling her supply bags and walking off with Nate alongside her, her face seeming etched in stone. The party, word has it, gathered at the Witch and Seer for their final preparations. They were last seen heading south, to the Rawlins and the Abyss beyond.
Robyn last edited by
he kid with the black markings on his eyes and lips then speaks up - It could be worse. You could be Jonni.
Wildling last edited by Wildling
It's a sunny, lovely afternoon in Peltarch, when by the park, a group of kids of ages anywhere between six and twelve gather. One of them, a determined little girl, sticks the drawing of a disfigured face upon the tree in the middle, and then joins her friends. In resolute voice, she speaks
- Alright gang! There she is, the queen of the Abyss! We have to save the world!
Another kid, a little boy with gruffy manners, eyes and lips painted in black, steps up with a stick over his shoulder - Pff I am DEATH! A demon queen is nothing to me!
A third kid speaks up - I am the princess of Peltarch! I am the LAW of the world and what I say goes!
Fourth kid then joins - N-no! I.. I am the law! I am Lady Varya Tiller, champion of the people!
The third kid looks at the one that just spoke up and makes a gesture with her hands - BOOM! Decapitated! I am the LAW now!
The kid that claimed to be Lady Varya Tiller then throws a tantrum and begins whining - No! I could decapitate you if I wanted!
The third kid goes again - Shut up! People without head can't talk!
Then the first kid, the girl that pinned the "monster face" on the tree speaks up - Guys! We have to work together! For peace! For happiness! We will only defeat evil with love!
A fifth kid, another girl, then speaks - Hey Silvye, why do you always get to be Isolde? I wanna be Isolde...
Then Silvye looks back - Well... next time okay? You can be Sebrienne!
The fifth kid looks down disappointed - Oh... okay I'll be Sebrienne... I am... the master of wind!
The last, sixth kid, speaks up - No! I am the master of the wind, Aoth the Windseeker!
The fifth kid sulks even more - Okay...
The kid with the black markings on his eyes and lips then speaks up - It could be worse. You could be Jonni.
The fifth kid then looks a little relieved, as the first kid, self-appointed as Isolde speaks up once again
-Join me, my Golden Geese! The time has come! TONIGHT WE SAVE THE WORLD!
All the kids cheer and join their little cheerleader as they seem to put all differences aside to have a lovely evening of gaming and fighting evil together
KingCreeper last edited by
*As knights and men at arms trickle out of the city on their long march south, it is said that (if the rumors are true) freshly knighted (Sir) Cormac Randolph has been spotted in his blackened chain battle armor, loading his swift horse with the furnishings of some coming battle. How many last times can a man leave a place? Perhaps we'll all find out soon enough.
With a ragged scarlet cloak pulled about his shoulders he too sets off at the tail end of what some have started calling the 'crusade'.*
Horrified rumours circulate about a masked undead knight who slew five guardsmen and raised them in undeath, in the midst of a fight with the party of adventurers present. Despite the eventual destruction of the dread knight, it seems it's not his first appearance - nor, perhaps, the last.
Goddess of Spite last edited by
Most people have heard the recent gossip on everyone's lips about how Cormac Randolph sings to frogs. However, iterations of another less common rumour have also circulated over the last week in local bars and taverns about an extraordinary feat of skill so impressive it could be considered an art form:
"Some weird tart did a sleight of hand trick with some tattooed giant man where she pulls out a mouse leg from his stomach be reaching down his throat, that's what my sibling said they saw!"
"I heard the husband actually has a condition where he often doesn't chew his food enough and then someone has to manually remove it for his safety."
"First the fist, then the wrist, then went the elbow. There was an excessive amount of drool that followed and I can't believe he held his breath that long! Craziest part is, she ate what ever she pulled out!"
"Someone said the whole performance was endorsed by this guy named Emmett, who convinced some drug addicts to 'earn' their next fix- ..such cruelty..."
"Is it true that the kid wouldn't stop crying about his toad being eaten, so his mother had to yank it out of some bully's mouth? Like, hoooww did she not get bitten by that punk?!"
KingCreeper last edited by
*"...burst into ribbons, and were swallowed up by the sky. Like... like apple-peels".
"...broke chunks off the tower and the walls, the bricks and stones just got sucked up into the air like they weighted nothing..."
"...it's an attack on the city! I swear I saw a Defender's flesh get flayed right off his back and just like that - every scrap vanished into the clouds..."
A mysterious red star winks in the night sky, and boy - is it hungry.*
Caoimh last edited by
The plague that for many months steadily escalated in the Residential district has been cured, just as the Peltarch Guard's quarantine on the district was beginning to buckle. The cure came shortly after a shady auction took place in the Regal Maid Inn, purporting to be selling just such a miracle. Whether it was bought in a brothel or delivered from the gods, the city breathes a sigh of welcome relief as its debilitating internal troubles come to an end, and leaders can give their fullest attention to external threats once more. Rumours abound of a royal reception which will take place in the coming weeks honouring those at the forefront of containing and curing the plague.
((I will aim to hold the reward ceremony in game sometime this week when enough participants are online; those who don't make it don't worry I will follow up with you individually!))
Paladin last edited by Paladin
Rumours and chatters abound lately among the Mermaid Inn's patrons in regards to a newcomer in town. A young, handsome, and regal-mannered noble from Waterdeep, specifically a Marquis and a Paladin of Torm, according to (semi) reliable sources.
The shiny armor-clad knight has supposedly rented the most luxurious and expensive suite of the Mermaid Inn, and has become a common view among the regular clients, albeit merely while going to and from his room.
In fact, no one seems to have witnessed him sitting and drinking at the tables in company of others. However, his brief appearances rarely, if ever, pass unnoticed.
Comments and conversations about this chivalrous paladin vary greatly.
The maids and waitresses working at the place can often be seen blushing and swooning as he passes by with a confident stride, and whispering about his good looks as he walks out of hearing distance.
Not few among the male customers, however, appear to harbour a dislike for the noble, commonly describing him as a "conceited, pompous snob".
Some of the less refined (and more booze-soaked) among them can even be heard mentioning a "broom up his arse" while cackling boisterously, although few seem to have actually spoken openly in his presence, as his constantly stern expression and commanding figure perhaps render several of them uneasy.
Ultimately, however, all of them agree on one sentiment: they all wonder why such an important and wealthy person has traveled so far from home up to Peltarch, and to the Mermaid Inn of all places.
After a prolonged respite from all out attacks by the demons harrying and abducting noted citizens and adventurers of Peltarch, the southern gates played unwilling scene to intense combat. Screeching Vrocks, joined by dretches, dark winged demons and even a dread fiery winged Balor descended on the gates, fiercely contested by guardsmen, guildsmen, defenders and adventurers jointly.
Amidst patches of darkness and the vile fumes of countless dretches, the fight was chaotic and desperate, yet one thing stands out to any onlookers that day: princess Elizabeth Fisher, as usual in the thick of it with her greatsword swinging, was all but lost to the clutches of the Balor - until, after a voice cried out from the sky, the hulking beast was suddenly obliterated.
Fadia last edited by
In recent weeks, yet another warrior from Kara-Tur has been seen in Peltarch. Shimazu Ichiro, known as "Ichi" to most, has cut a rather more genial figure than many others from the far east. Indeed, he's seemingly relished the chance to regale people with stories of his exploits, though many of those stories beggar belief. What's caught many people's attention, however, is his charitable work - after every adventure where he earns a profit, no matter how minor, he donates a not insignificant portion of the earnings to various orphanages, soup kitchens, or plague relief organizations across the city.
Wildling last edited by Wildling
There are rumours about disturbing events in Peltarch. During a strangely quiet evening, a patron of the Lucky Ferret assures that a beautiful elf lady of green hair was wandering the Docks District when several giant flies descended upon her using the night as a cover.
Although the lithe elf resisted to the best of her ability, at some point she seemed to give up, and the horrid creatures picked her up to carry her away into the dark sky and above the city walls, southwards.
The witness was found to have drunk one too many ales, however. A single guard was alerted, and he couldn't find evidence of any of this, so it may as well been all fabricated.
- [DM Serendipity]
AddictedtoMint last edited by
The apothecary known as Primrose Grubb-Hallow has recently been seen venturing into the residential district, bags and other unusual equipment in tow. She has apparently set up her travel cauldron, her right-sized mortar and pestle, her sacred wooden stirring spoon, a ladle, her athame, and some other miscellaneous campfire tools on the Tourney Grounds near to the makeshift clinic of St. Sollars. When asked, she gestures to one of the healers to explain in her stead: That she has begun experiments with a herb called "Voodoo Lily" or "elephant yam", originating from far to the east, somewhere in Kara-Tur. It is allegedly her aim to infuse a jelly made by grinding the root of the plant with some disease-fighting properties granted to her by her dedication to nature magic, with the intended effect of subduing the insatiable hunger suffered by the afflicted.
On the occasions that Marty emerges from the plague stricken residential district to busk and raise coin for potions, she is not dressed in her usual druidic robes. Instead, she is donned in armour which has been embossed with runes warding against chaos and evil. She also Jingles with other charms, talismans and trinkets bearing similar wards. Even her boots are trimmed with protective runes.
Her standard performance is the Mountain Song, a folk hymn sung in honour of Jerrick Rayfe who is now the Guardian of the Balance, His spirit united with the Sacred Mountain. This song is sometimes followed by a sad Hin lullaby.
As she sings, she maintains discomforting eye contact. Her piercing gaze only softening once coin has been given.
Her periods of busking are not usually very long. She emerges only to raise coin and to pray by the tree in the commons. Once she has regained the needed magic from nature she returns to the ill in the Residential District.
Psieonic last edited by Psieonic
A local hin adventurer by the name of Ray Biers and two other hin accompanying him, report to a Peltarch guard that they'd encountered what by descriptions seemed to be an Illithid in the nearby Eastern Swamps. According to the report, the Illithid, whom which they referred to as 'Wiggly Man' had apparently already been injured and severely weakened, with an enchanted dagger to its side.
The trio had attempted to reason with the creature and offer aid, only to be attacked with magic before it "nearly ate our brains" before it was bested. The three attributed their good luck in the battle to Tymora smiling upon them, claiming they were blessed for their bravery.
UnholyCalls last edited by
After what feels like an eternity, the official ruling on whether Janna, prisoner of Peltarch, would be extradited to N'Jast has finally come into view. And yet, as Peltarch officials prepare for the verdict, the N'Jastians have done something rather... odd. Today both the vulgar Emissary and his shifty associate took their official leave of Peltarch, citing that Janna was no longer of any interest to N'Jast. To some, this is a blessing, ending a potentially messy trial before it began, and being rid of two unpleasant individuals.
But other, more paranoid folk, have different theories as they drink their troubles away in the taverns. Some speak of a breakdown of negotiations, or the beginning of a war. That the negotiators have only left so that the army can march in. Other even more paranoid folk wonder if the Peltarch had given N'Jast something even more vauable, but if so what? For now, their reasoning remains... unclear. Time will tell if N'Jast will reappear, and if it does, will it do so with an open hand or a closed fist?
The Amethyst Festhall recently housed a Seafarer event, well attended even by parties formarily often in conflict with the Guild. It seems the organization's new leader, Edwin Ashald, is distributing rather large amounts of gold not only to the city itself but to a wide variety of recipients, including even the labour union. While speculation as to this unexpected generosity abounds, the bard Isolde Garibaldi, one of the attendants, voiced her opinion both during and after the event in favour of lord Ashald's good intentions and desire to set right the wrongs of his predecessor.
Sharp eyed folk may notice that the grass growing around the posts in the commons has been left to grow and hasn't been trimmed. *
Marty no longer leaves the Residential District, but now spends all of her time there tending to the sick. Her other duties, such as the gardening the does around the city, is largely being neglected.
(* Although - maybe another gardener could take care of it? Duno. Anyway - Marty isn't around any more. 100% of time is spent in Res Disctrict. Abstaining from "adventures" with her.)
A curious rumour circulates about a monster rampaging around the Amethyst Festhall. While details of the supposed beast may vary, most agree on two things: the unearthly screeching, and bugs. Bugs, bugs, bugs… oh and did we mention bugs?