Whispers at the Fire
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The talk of town is about how the North Gate of Norwick was attacked. The creatures who attacked were said to be spirits of various rainbow colors, which exploded spectacularly when killed. After a big one was defeated and exploded, those attuned to magic complained about feeling a headache. Apparently five adventurers were killed in the attack, but the defenders successfully repelled the assault which culminated with a battle with what looked like a human warrior who seemed to glow like the spirits.
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_There was a performance of the finest dancing in Norwick the other night… word gets around that a lovely young lass twirled and fluttered her way around the campfire in a way that caught the eye of every lad nearby, whether young or old.
The speed of her steps and spins was enough to make a few hearts even skip a beat, one onlooker actually choking on something he was that taken with it!_
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The Chancellor has been seen milling about the Norwick docks lately, chuckling with some of the captains, and supervising one of Norwick's larger trade ships that has been loaded with its usual load of lumber to sail north.
As the ship prepares to embark, the Chancellor hops aboard having had several sealed crates first loaded into the cargo area. He jokingly breaks a bottle of ale on the prow of the boat before it leaves and fist-pumps the air in a seldom seen public display of happiness.
Not one to enjoy water-travel, he puts on his best face as the ship pulls from its slip and makes its way North… presumably to the Jewel…
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_The Legion scout Yngdír is noted to, from time to time, take brisk walks through the town. Often entering the Militia Barracks and the Dwarven Hold for varying lengths of time. Despite his lack of practice with siege equipment it seems he's been getting behind the town's defenses and lending his own critical eye to their placement.
One or two other Legionnaires have been sighted with him along these walks on different occasions. There's little indication as to what the purpose is, or why they are necessary._
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Peltarchian gastrognome has turned into anthropologognome, researching his new Narfellian ethnography "Of butches and femmes: stories from a militarised Norwickian apocalypse cult". The data furnishing this discourse was largely drawn around the south gate fire, or as Perriwig would have it, "the totem sun-anticipator, fizzling with demonic energy and around which members of the cult languorously flop, engaging in reproductive rites with their masculine mother figure and musing on the abyss to come." He asks a number of impolitic, suggestive and lurid questions. Gleefully writing up the the bemused responses received from the innocent adventurers he waylaid between goblin-thumpings, the gnome orders another bottle of red wine that evening in the Grapevine, snoozing boozily towards dawn.
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Early into the night, Kayden was seen being drug by the cloak into the Grapevine by Ashe Ferrin. It was not until late into the next morning that Kayden was seen stepping into the sunlight with a content smile spread on his lips. Whatever happened in there, he seemed to have a good time.
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Whispers about more changing people spread throughout the town, fire and frost giants, slaadi and golems, it was even said there was a balor roaming outside in the small camp of infected to the south. Although no injuries are reported, still a bit unsettling perhaps with the amount of changing happening.
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_Quiet whispers spread around Norwick of a grand duel between Jaelle and an avatar of Umberlee. Unfortunately for Jaelle, she is only mortal and succumbed to the resulting drowning of said duel. Maya, ever a champion for another warrior, cheering and screaming on at the side lines.
On another note, rumor has it that several days before this event, Jaelle was spotted in the Inn with Jay. The two looked rather relaxed and the sickened Jaelle looking rather happy._
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Word goes around that Aramuil, the Advisor of Norwick and Captain Aelthas Benthur had a duel just outside the south gates, Aelthas seeming to return to the fire unscathed after taking down his opponent with ease in front of several witnesses. The word cheater seems to be on Aelthas' tongue, when discussing the duel, Aramuil apparently breaking the terms of the duel with use of magic that wasn't to be allowed, as the story goes.
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_The Elf Brendel has returned to Norwick. He can be found protecting and helping to care for the growing camp of infected outside the Town's gates.
He seems more introspective then he was, and less eager to banter insults with others._
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Rumors abound about a doppleganger impersonating people in the lands sound of Norwick. In this particular instance, it seems that were two "Maya's" walking about.
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Word has it that a troblin broke through a section of a wall and rampaged through the farmland area at night, killing some livestock and the harbormaster before being stopped by a wizard and cleric passing through.
Later a larger party investigated, where it brought down another rampaging troblin before an elf repaired the wall with druidic magic.
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Whispers are told around the fire of two notable creatures in the vicinity of Norwick. A majestic silver dragon and the Dark Enchantress herself, both seeming to be looking for Captain Aelthas Benthur. What exactly the man has done to attract such attention is unknown, but it is said that two died at the south gates when the Enchantress appeared to talk.
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An Oscuran man with blonde hair was seenc hallenging people to duels at the south gate. Four accepted his challenge, and in the fourth and final fight he was almost felled, yet managed to knock his forign opponent to the ground just in time
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_The radiant bard known as Val, or Valkyrie to some, seems to be spending her time south of Norwick, with the afflicted, even though she freely admits she doesn't share their plight. As to why she is there, well, she's seen to give performances, share stories, run errands, and anything else that the small community might need to keep spirits up.
Her two latest tales are of how she was "touched by Tempus" and the time she "danced with an angel". Both seem a little fanciful, but she tells them as if they were true, smiling happily at the stories as if they were dear to her._
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Pass-remarkable Peltarchian snob, gastrognome and crossbow crack-shooter, Perriwig P. Doubleday made one of his regular trips down to the Grapevine Inn recently. While he was enjoying critiquing his plate of dinner and between sips from his goblet of wine, the dashing gnome made a few ungallant remarks about a certain local halfling inventor and infamous crossbowteer's sniping skills…
"Oh, I'm sure dear master Benji would be quite … well reasonably competent for your mammoth hunt. He'd probably made an admirable stab at whaling. He'd certainly come in a reasonable - oh I don't know - fifth or sixth in a one-eyed barn-door shooting competition. Capital fellow for plugging bullseyes are seven steps or so. But … for the spinning coin at 300 yards - or putting a bolt through an evil grig sat on the nose of a cloud giant - no, no. That requires a particular talent that - alas - few are as lucky as my good self to possess. Pass the butter, could you my dear?"
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Perhaps spawned by current gossip, a new tale is occasionally passed at the local Inn about the most recent destruction of the south gates, though details are loose and the story itself seems even more sketchy than the usual bar talk.
Most commonly it's told - after several tankards - that a robed man appeared from nowhere, and with a snap of his fingers turned the gate to a pile of smoking sticks. After a brief verbal exchange the man vanished as quickly as he arrived, as did the leather clad woodsman. Reappearing a short time later, the ranger retreated to the south east, heading into the Rawlins as the sky itself laughed down.
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Just after dusk, the darkened leather clad ranger, known around Norwick as Rasuil was witnessed entering from the south gates, heavily wounded and bearing the slumped form of Elder Malika in his arms. An injured black panther close at his heels, allowing nobody near him as he made his way to the temple. A few long hours later, the trio emerged looking slightly shaken but stable, taking a rest by the fire before making their way south one more.
The gates were thrown open to reveal an enraged troblin on the other side, which charged straight into the center of town. Rasuil was faster and called for the aid of the few by the fire, who all rose valiantly to the defense of the town. The troblins attacked in several waves, though only one came at a time, and their goal was made clear as they charged passed the defenders to hammer at the gates beyond.
All were gravely wounded by the end, the ranger barely pulled through requiring drastic field surgery after a vicious confrontation with a berserker and his greatsword. Though no one was lost, it seems every defender that was present was infected by the waves of attackers at some point in the skirmish. The eight brave souls have re-established the small camp just beyond the south gates, though Malika and Rasuil have each retired to a safe place near the Glenn.
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The Infected seem to have re-established themselves south of town in tents after barely repelling a Troblin attack. The numbers where small but they only had the gates in mind when attacking. Still many of the brave infected nearly fell to the blows that instead leave them outcast from the town. Among them is Troff Legion, watching every night for vampire attacks.
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Aramuil was seen showing a young girl of about nine or ten years old around the town, obviously not one of his own children as this girl was human. After the tour, the two returned to the Spellweaver Keep.
