Whispers at the Fire
-
Rumour has it that the Banite halfer Grak was beaten into submission by militia trainee Ezachiel, and tossed into a jail after, according to some, Grak pushed Ezachiel, though not very hard. Some say that Ezachiel first gave him multiple chances to go peacefully, though others might say that he attacked Grak out of nowhere with no warning, letting out an evil laugh all the time, before chopping him into pieces and tossing him outside the gate. Such is the way of rumours about a former Banite.
-
The elven Lady Rilia Dedralle was seen at the most recent fight night. Apparently she arrived in high style fit for any court ((cha 27)). She was escorted by one elven male by the name of Celebring. She spoke politely to all there offering encouragement to the bards and smiles of and kind words to others. Rumor has it that many of the men folk were left staring and to keep from distracting people from further festivities she left early.
-
Rumour has it that an undead creature of some kind grievously wounded Selene near the north gate, before delivering a cryptic message to Militia Trainee Ezachiel, something about a mistress and a fifteenth Tarrot, before being destroyed by the trainee and the others there.
-
_The sign outside the former Boarshed inn that read "For Sale" had been replaced under the Secretary of Norwick's instructions. A pair of militias were seen removing the sign from the ground and hammering in a new one which reads clearly "Sold".
It is not known who had successfully purchased the building for an announcement had yet to be made. Expression of worries were seen on the faces who once worked there, now their future clearly uncertain._
-
_Following tremors, a massive explosion centered around the Menhir at southgate, and waves up undead attacking the town, a bedraggled group of citizens led by militiamen Elyl and Wren (with three color-coordinated mages) take the corpse of a local ranger to the Friar's.
Shortly afterwards, the procession (minus the corpse) races out of town to the north.
Rumor quickly spreads than Elyl and Wren have arrested a fugue succubus for Unlawful Corpse Seduction and Crossing a Planar Boundary With Intent To Commit A Felony._
-
Z warns folks to keep an eye out for diseased gobbos to the west.
We came across a cart that had been attacked and looted (or someone would have us think that).
When we investigated, we found some vials that caused a disease ta folks that touched 'em. This disease is VERY contagious and seems ta be transfered just by touchin', whether the carrier is livin' or dead. Most of mah group got sick and headed back to Norwick.
Fearin' spread of the disease or, worse, gobbos usin' some of them vials of the disease against the town, I went to Gobbo Hold to destroy the vials and any gobbos I could find, sick or otherwise.
After each kill, I burned the corpse, without lootin'. Sighs Lost a lot of coin there…
Anyway, I searched all of the first level of The Hold and I got rid of all the gobbos I could find. I hope that was enough to stop the disease from spreadin'...
Be careful in the west Rawlinswood and, for now, folks might think about not lootin' gobbo corpses for a while.
Oh, and if you do get diseased, do NOT touch anyone or get near anyone until you're cured. We cannot let this disease spread.
Z
P.S. Hmmm... I wonder who was sendin' those diseased vials to Norwick in the first place??...
-
_Rumor has it that a band of adventurers were seen coming out of the West Rawlins, but stopping short of entering Norwick. It could not be heard what they were discussing, but they eventually wandered off to the east, bypassing the town completely.
A little more than an hour later, a cleric of Kelemvor was seen running into town and going into the friar's. It is not known at this time if the two events are related._
-
Strange occurrences abound, as a lone girl fleeing Norwick in the dead of night reports that the strange fog plaguing the town seems to have caused at least one half orc to develop cannibalistic tendencies…
-
Travellers and foragers in the northwest Rawlins report a slightly diminished goblin presence, and signs of messy carnage. Half-chewed limbs and carelessly flung bits of the corpses are strewn around, until the usual woodland scavengers and carrion-eaters start the cleanup.
Prompt and competent trackers might note large paw-prints, probably wolf in origin.
-
:Maythor looks at Mercy then at Lucid: Pasteeeclam's fer kids? :drops his ale and walks out of the boarshead:
-
_For reasons unknown, your favourite dwarven priestess of Mercy has elected to make several conspicuous visits to Norwick of late, installing herself in the Boarshead bar. In addition to her garish seashell armour, Mercy seems to have acquired a helmet to match.
The purpose of her trip, however, is not to show off her snazzy duds but to boast of the Chancellor, Lucidious' accomplishments. Whether to lift the mood after the collapse of Lathander's shrine - which seems unlikely - the bloated, toad faced priestess entertains listening locals by reiterating "The Saga of Rando's Throat" presenting the Chancellor as a heroic, fell-handed figure, Rando a snivelling ingrate who begs for his life before the elven official, a sneer upon his cherry lips, casts the villain into hell.
Naturally, the tale is filled with significant unnecessary insights - including a torrid romantic liaison between Mercy and the Chancellor as a significant subplot.
For some reason, telling it once seems six times too little and she returns every day of the week, reminding the remaining locals of the dashing and heroic cut of Lucy's gib._
-
_Heard the words of announcement Norwick did,
of one a secretary she becomes to the Chancellor it is.
One whom recently returned to Norwick,
since many months she had left.Since then Harmony could be seen at times,
one that is often so in the days to come,
her presence be found near the Chancellor's side.Despite her new role to serve in Norwick,
the modesty and humbleness of hers still remains.
Smiles softly she often does,
one of a blooming flower in spring it resembles,
to all who enjoys her company she will freely give._
-
One fine afternoon, the herald emerges from the great hall with parchment in hand to read the days announcements in town square…
Hear ye! Hear ye!
The Chancellor of Norwick, Lord Lucidious Corvance, Hereby bestows the title of Secretary to the Chancellor upon Lady Harmony of Norwick. All concerns to be voiced to the Chancellor may be made though Lady Harmony in the Chancellors absence. In addition, the Lady Harmony is also granted the right to speak on the Chancellor's behalf on matters of import regarding the Realm. She is to be treated with the honor and respect of one who carries the will of the Chancellor.
…and from there, the herald stresses the shrine of Lathander being off limits and to stay indoors at night due to the rolling fog that may still linger in town.
-
As night falls on Norwick and the citizens huddle in the Great Hall an unexpected event occurs. Instead of a heavy fog rolling into town quite the opposite happens. The clouds seem chased from the sky revealing a bright full moon in luminating the lands below in an eerie light. Across the pitch darkness of the sky silvery stars twinkle and ripples of light dance on the waters far below. The night is perhaps arguably the most picturesque ever seen in even an elf's memory as the sky stay clear of any clouds thru the entirety of the night. Though oddly one element seems missing, not a sound is heard, nay a night creature calling or hunting, nay an insect, nor even a gentle breeze makes the smallest of sounds. The night is positively silent as if holding it's breath for fear it would end too soon.
-
_Wren Halfabrick returns from the north after a trip of a few days looking somewhat grim, and is heard to inform the gate guards and local merchants that werewolves are running amok in the pass, attacking caravans and generally being a menace.
"The smaller ones go down when you cut their nadgers off, but the older ones.. well… trust me, you don't want any part of those things."_
-
_Last nights fog was exceptionally heavy and cold. It rolled into town masking everything in white. When finally the sun emerged the next morning the town looked as it has been. Least until the Shrine of Lathander is visited. Where cool refreshing water was, now a brackish quagmire exists. All the greenery is dead, the shrine destroyed, the statue shattered. event he fountain was seemingly crumbled. Where was a sense of peace and well being persisted, now death and hopelessness await. Citizens can't help but return from the shrine teary eyed and downcast. The one place thought immune to the death and destruction has fallen. Not a hint of goodness remains, not a hint of holy magic remains. It is by all accounts dead.
Abandon hope all ye of faith, for the shrine of Lathander, the light of the land, has fallen casting the citizens into darkness_
-
_The guards on the gates at Sam's Hill watch with bemusement as an odd party passes below.
Two dwarves, a male and a female, and a human woman with a massive sword…. lugging a dead gnoll. The gnoll, tongue lolling from its mouth, seems to be wearing a set of fluffy white angel wings.
As the guards stare, the female dwarf sings a Damaran children's lullaby to the dead angelic gnoll. Which starts to snore, until the human woman whaps it and the other two make shushing motions.
As they watch, the odd band ambles down the long road towards Jiyyd.
"There's somethin' ye don't see every day."
"Nah... I see dwarves all the time."
"..."_
-Lagermane
-
_Rumours abound in Norwick that the Advisor to the Chancellor, Calendel, was led into town from the North by another Cleric (apparently a follower of Tempus) claiming that he had captured a doppelganger and was taking this doppelganger claiming to be Calendel to see the Chancellor himself to either capture this creature or determine it to indeed be Calendel!
Hours later this same Cleric of Tempus was seen being dragged out of the Great Hall with his weapons confiscated and his hands bound and was quickly led into the local Jail.
Most rumours think this Cleric may have flipped his lid! Some say he had come from Oscura and could very well be under the effects of the evil darkness that surrounds everyone when visiting… Little is known as to what transpired other than those that accompanied this Cleric and his prisoner into the Chancellor's office that night although many have seen Calendel resuming his work around town as though nothing of great consequence had occured._
-
During the night word of war machines gets out. Soon after a hin in leather and an elven female in plate are seen leaving the town talking about going to play while another elf goes out apparently to watch… are they serious?
-
_As the sun drops and night falls over Norwick the citizens take up a now long practiced routine of leaving their homes and heading to the great hall with animals and children in tow. Braziers are brought out to chase the cold away inside while the townfolk hunker down for another long night. The town healers take shifts checking to make sure that everyone is accounted for and of good health. Some sleep a restless dozing while others stay awake watching the doors to the great hall with weapons or children clenched tightly wondering how long the doors will hold. For the most part the hall is quiet except for the occasional calling of an animal as the night gets enveloped in fog. A few stragglers come in now and again, usually adventurers caught outside, and are quickly checked out by the healers. As dawn comes and the fog recedes the townfolk eagerly leave the hall in a smelly mess which is then cleaned up by recruits or hired hands. The townfolk have gotten used to the dead grass now being turning to dust, the leafless trees and prevaisive stench of rot that seems to linger constantly. Probably the most disheartening is the fact that the fog seems to only descend on the immediate area and not more then a 30 min walk away the land is alive and well with the sounds of wildlife.
Even the shrine to Lathander doesn't go untouched as the death and decay seems to have gone several inches into the consecrated area.
"Cursed and damned" they say._
