Whispers at the Fire
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A large group of adventurers entered Norwick from the easter Rawlins. They looked horribly beaten and had many obvious wounds. They grumble about ghouls and that three certain ones together are considered invincible.
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A bald man with facial tattoos can be saw out near the "anti-magic blaspheme" staring at it contemplatively for long hours.
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Lucidious is seen making his way to the farie glen armed with a folding stand, a bundle of parchment, canvas and enough wine to last a week. Several days later he returns to the Boarshead looking a bit uncertain, his pack now filled to the brim with emptied bottles and nothing but a few sketches in hand. He spends several hours talking with Misty over another bottle of wine, reviewing the sketches with her at the inn. After a long discussion he seems pleased with one of them. He thanks her profusely before retiring to his room at the Boarshead for the night.
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A fat man in the dark black & gold armour from the shrine of Kelemvor can be found in the boarshead for a day or two, talking to those who are interested to hear of the upcoming Day of the Dead picnic in the Camp, where those who wish can attend, and chat with some of the spirits from the camps past if they choose to return for the day. He also mentions that an archery competition is rumoured to be taking place, as well as several other possible events
//Saturday 10pm ESTish I believe is the intended time, Camp Forums might have better detail
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A large, burly man sat in the guildhall, sharing tales with the forgemaster in between waxing his epic moustache and tossing test firings of iron into the hot coals. Even though it had been many years since his copious (yet well-formed) rump had worn groove in the wooden seat by the cooling bucket, it seemed mated for the smooth wood. With an idle hand he stroked the seat and remembers when he carved it from wood scraps after one of his first guild expeditions, when there were fewer notches in the head of him at-hand hammer, and fewer miles on his tattered boots.
Splashing a cup of dirty water in his face, he resume pumping the bellows while hollering over the sounds of clanging coming from the newest apprentices working on horsehoes and mining picks.
"Ey tells yer, ey be nah sleight fella, bet tis las, she be a big'un. Th' good Laird Moradin, carse his bard wi split ends, did see fit teh gift me wif a goodly tall 'a sex foot an twa fingers in 'eight, but when ey gazed at this lass, ey be lookint up 'er nose, an a meghty fein nose it be, fer that. Tain' many folk what be of tha seze, an most be naught ye'd tarry wi, less yeh be lookin teh do summon harm. But tis 'un, she be strang, an brave, an blessed tee in wha be filling et yer shadah, ifn' yeh be a lassie.
Wee Ginger, tha Spicey hin, sez we teh ga poke hole in eart an fine are, an choppa tree an see wha grow, an we fine stuff, aye…we deh. But it weren' wha we been lookin' fa. We seez gobbles, plenty...them's as sook breed as eat, an they always be eatin' an anything they kin get, an tha even mean Skar's wings, ey pull yer tail not. Sah, we squash gobble, an even un a tem big buggie fellers, wiff th' eyes like church glass.
Ten they sez "Ga in th' cave, see wha we see." ::shakes his shaggy head a moment, sending what few drops remain in his hair flying to spatter on the anvil:: Well, we ga in, an wha we see tain't nat-ural. Thems was bagbars, only they wasn't right clean. Sa darty, ter flesh be hangnin like it were hair. When they touched yeh, flames shot eff an an darn near took me whiskers oof. ::smiles:: Kept me 'elm clamped teight, ey did. Loose me 'stash, be near teh mortal a wound as ey kin suffar. We kilt, er 'least made em lay downs...two, tree, mebbie mar, an we thinks nae be a gud idear bein tha. We leave an trek back towar' Norrick.
We dun geh far when ey sees summin wet in th' grass, an it weren't me, cause I ga behin trees when a lass be presen', like tha tall darky un ey sez yeh of. Gettin a closar look, but ey seez a par a eyes, twin arbs be twinklin at meh, but ey dun tink th' owner be smilin at th' joke. Normal-like, ey figgur tha be th' call teh check how warm me bed be, unner th' covers.
But nah, Ginger bounce abet like un a them sheep dags, 'cept she 'ave less har, an lack a right proper dag tail, but 'er tail be fein enough, if yeh like wee kin. She sez "Less ga check t' odder cave." Sa ey ga...na reason t' let them ga lone, specially since ey be t' only feller wha remember teh bring me tarch.
Well, we see them misguidn' dwarrs ter, a few, an we put em doon faster then May kin put dun a ale wif 'is leff han, which be reit quick, ey add. We be wipin er weapons when we seez teh eyes be plooked like chicken eggs fra a carpse eye...an it weren' me, ey dun take teh fleshy trophy, less ter be a bounty attach. Then this ere blood be writin on th' walls, an thoh ey be a literate sart, it were in tha mumba-jumba tha wrigglers use, an a' no use teh us honest folk. Sa, me 'stash quiver soom, but we still head en, walkin slaw, since tis be th' cave a V...V... yeh know te un...ey nah speakit har name.
Affer spelunkin abet, we fine some are...an it be th' gad stuff, teh...th' glitter a hiron flakes spill fra th' stones, sa me an Ginger an Cyrian pick-pick pick. Then me tummy fell ill. Me 'ands graw clammy. Me sack get tight against me belly, an ey knaw we were in ferret. We poke an 'ole in th' rack, an ey shines me tarch in, an tiz wave a...stench...come et, an durn if me little toe been et by a frog, ey was gripped wif fear worse an any ey had taste in yars. Sorta loss me mein, ey did, an I kin sayyit wif little blush, fer it struck Cyrian teh, an even the tall lass, after a spell. We settle our narves an dig some deepr', an wha would yeh know, but this hand come et and grip at us, an the far, it come even fiercer.
Sah thar waz much screamin' an yellin. An some swards an me 'ammer dun bus'ness. An when it were o'vr, there were some deadlwark'r lay in the dust, an we wasn', an that be a good thing. But tere be suptin odd in the are, burried deep, but ey chip an chip, and slowly make an ole, an Ginger reach her wee fingas in an clench it, an it be a stone, 'bedded in the iron but nae natural...smooth as th' breast a this lass ey met unce in Pelty, aye, she was th' best f....but annyways, this stone 'ad a 'nanatural feels teh it, an ginger hole it up teh me, but ey dun truck wif witchy stoof, sa ey pass it back, an then wha appen....
Thar be this elf appear frae nonce....an ey could rec'nize im, but he were lookin like he tried teh drink TREE Troff unner a table, an die, an then 'ad a ang'oer, an then die 'gain. He wan tah stone. Then some more rustle in th' dark, an ey sees Tolin...aye, that'un ey knows well. Cept Cyrian whisper this Tolin be a bad bus'ness naw, an ey know, ey kin give any feller a good 'eadache wif me hamma, buh when it come teh witchy folk an wrigglers, ey'd as soon let wrigglers deal wif ter own. Ey spent 'alf a yar as a statue of the Easelanner, sa ey dun wait when gives th' change t'run...an we did, plenty quick, an lose none asides.
But this all be much fer me 'ed, an ey need sleep onnit, and ask abet. This elf...Rary...he looks a bit...peeky. An he were talkin a eatin me, which ey take great offence teh, since ey'd like teh keep me meat as long as fresh blood pumps innit. An Tolin, workin fer a deady lookin sart, well things be lookin grim. Next ting teh expect tha Dwarfs swore off ale so many surprise terday. Th' marrow, ey hope some know'n be passed teh me, so ey can reckon wha sides ey be takin.
Oh, an tha Tall un. 'Livia were her name. Ey seen 'er around afore, but yeh dun get teh watch th' muscles flow much until yeh see summon in combat. well, there be t'nother way, but ey be a gentleman, an wait fer th' thard battle afore invitin a lass teh see me collection a stuffed gnome head.
Tha feller o'er thar ::points out Z to the forgemaster:: Keeps an eye onnim. Looks teh have perten'tl. Didn get im teh drags much are et a them caves, but enouf teh let me play wif while ey recount this t' yeh. See yeh on th' marrow, an ey'll buy yeh an ale, an yeh kin tell me who runs this tawn naw, ey be harein fanny tales....
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rumours go around of Fires in Norwick a Mage, Rando and a broken staff all of which seems to be connected to Mystra. It was said a guard was killed by fire. Rando and Milshot were burnt and the mage was banished under pain of death
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Rumours abound of a giant fish, 20 or 30' long, able to swallow a deer whole in one gulp swimming up the river from the lake and passing inside the walls before it turned and headed out again after taking it's fill…...
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A lone man in a simple, brown robe has been seen near Norwick, wandering around the town, haveing some words with the commoners and the passing adventurers. His back is bended by a large pack, filled with pergamanes and little wooden barrels. He is asking around for some old friends of his…Zoma, his mentor Genzir, and a lady he can't name, but he calls her "Queen of Dresses"and grins without any reason.
He can be found mostly near the little lake, next to the South gate, murmuring words under his beard drawing on some tattered papers, and excerciseing his body, with long katas.
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Upon hearing the rumours of the organized group of goblins fighting the undead, Ragnhild immidiately thinks of her goblin friend Grahk, who in her mind surely must be the leader of this group. She spends as much time as her restless nature allows on top of the tower near the south gate, hoping to catch a glimpse of the action and possibly join in the fun.
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Rando gets the reports of 'strange and weird' noises coming from the Rawlins at night and turns to Milshot and says
" Better double the Guards at night and if this continues lock them during the night"
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Rumor has it numerous dead bodies were found at the gates leading into the nars…
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The rawlingswood has become more chaotic of late. Seems a group of organized goblins led by a rather large goblinw eilding an axe have taken the fight against the undead. The undead have retaliated in kind and atatcks in the woods have become more common. The Norwick gaurd report more odd sounds beyond the gates at night, prowling and growling with the occasional scratching. Adventurers investigating report several large swaths of Bugbear land purged of bugbears with no bodies in sight.
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_Women in red and black are seen leading a small group of children into Norwick, then to the Shrine of the Dawn. Seems several tents have been set up for the children to stay in, which is quite the opposite of the plush home they had just come from. Rumor spreads that Jiyyd is being plauged wtih undead and the children will be staying at the Shrine until the threat is curbed.
Not seen entering the Shrine of the Dawn is Nicahh's adopted daughter, Sune, who was told to wait outside. She was seen shortly after heading north with the young girl, much to her protest of wanting to stay with the other children._
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Rumors spred like wildfire about goblins once again attacking the southern gates. For those in town, or close to town the gong could be heard.
Locals allso mutter about some huge beetle like creature coming side by side with the goblins.
Luckily the few adventurers that was alerted by the gong were able to fend it off. Even the guards clapped and cheered their efforts the rumor has it.((Thank you DM Fyre, love those events! And this one I managed to live through aswell! (though more by luck, then skill!)))
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A pale faced and bleary-eyed Ragnhild has returned to Norwick after an unprecendented drinking spree, brought about by homesickness and the current absence of her two favourite one-eyed men. She mopes on top of the south gate tower, her hair an even worse mess than usual and most of her belongings tattered or missing all together. If asked she mutters darkly about honourless thieves, but can't seem to recall any details about her supposed robbery. Coincidentally her vast collection of ales and spirits has also vanished…
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A young man with a warhammer at his side has been wondering around Norwick, asking if there is any adventure. When he gets a no, he looks disappointed and walks off.
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Dwin is seen walking around the town, glancing left and right and avoiding contact with anyone.
The stench of garlic is strong as soon as you are down-wind from him, and you can see that he now wears a necklace of garlic, and occasionally pops a whole head into his mouth and chews sloppily.
If anyone asks about his imprisonment or the ghouls that captured him, he grunts and walks away.
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The remains of a large snow fortress can be seen near the crossroads in the Nars pass. Rumour has it a group of women constructed the fortress and promptly attacked both each other and innocent passers by with snowballs, before tearing most of the construction down when playing "Catch the Princess". The giggling group were later seen trotting off towards the Gypsy camp, still covered in snow.
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Rumor spreads near Norwick that a group of adventurers rescued a dwarf from the bandit mines. It seems they were successful, though they were badly beaten and looked terribly ill. Some say it was undead within the caves and that the undead wanted to capture and turn the dwarf and adventurers into undead themselves. Though, many might not believe this.
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Rumor spreads of a recent goblin attack at the south gate of Norwick. The defenders held their ground and lost only one to the hundreds of goblins that assailed them. The alarm at the north gate sounded during the battle and later those inspecting the area found the guards missing and signs of a recent battle. No bodies were found.
