Only the ones able to endure, with the fortitude of a dwarf remained. Much has recently happened in the Sword Coast, not even a week has passed then but tragedies and confusion pile up in an ever-growing mound. It is hard to grasp at all that is happening around us, and much change goes undocumented. However, rumor's still reach our ears as information travels, albeit slowed by the unpredictable state of magic.
The cry of death, the scream of a dying goddess ripped through the skies while Beregost felt the droplets of crimson rain. Up to this very day, magic has yet to return to normal. Most mages fled in hiding or frustrations feeling absolute powerless without their relied magics. The few that remain where obviously made of more sterner stuff, nor did they lost faith or hope. Nearly everywhere people would hear a mage curse in anger but for whatever reasons, they still continue to struggle through the times that put them at a disavantage.
Mage hunters with fake sigils and emblems some true, some false, equally targeted mages of all sorts. Some adventurers had the will and the resolve to stand up for others that were at a disadvantage, offering protection and safe havens. The others hid like cowards or selfishness had the better of them for they ignored or abandon the weak.
Even word from the Underdark manage to reach the ears of the bartender of the Goblet. Talks of rocks coming to life to add to strange tales. Passages once frequently used now collapsed, and thee only means for passage now to the surface are deep below Durlags Tower leaving only the smartest or the strongest of drows to make it through. But why do they come to the surface? Don't they have their own world to heal or worry about? Only few knows, many more simply don't care for they have their own problems.
New conflict arises, the debate of arcane users safe passage or banishments speak through seething teeth's. Amn laws, arrest and executes. Baldurs give more sway but will deliver a firm hand if laws are violated.
In the morning between 13'th and 14'th of Eleasis, a great battle took place else where. Yet everywhere the conclusion of such a battle was felt. Many suddenly died, others felt hopeless, and few took advantage. The remaining ran for their own lives. Manshoon's is a name spoken by few, his return sparks many questions. Some feel the spawning devils south of Beregost might even be his very doing.
Parties? Celebration? Do the common folks and nobles not consider being offensive in their gestures? Are they that relax with fat bellies and riches to consider their very act might be blasphemous to other beings ? The bartender of the Broken Goblet would say, when you piss someone off, best to sleep with one eye open.
The Cloakwoods stir constantly with one thing after another. From Shadow Druids, to elementals and Giant Spiders and even Infernal Undead. Is it all tied into one big knot? Or are these separate chapters of their own creation? Who knows, only the brave ones that dare to tackle the situation head on. So few are interested but why? Have they lost hope? Or are they merely cowards? Time will tell like with many other things.
And what of the devils in the south? Their purpose their reason? Where they summon to cause havoc? Things maybe quiet for now. But the bartender of the Goblet has the habit of saying.."When things are quiet..it makes my skin crawl."
"I bloody hate things that don't bleed."