Rumors of the Harpers

[The Harpers]

Rumors of the Harpers on the Sword Coast

Please use this thread for harper-related events that may be noticed by anyone. Please also consider that if you want to play a character with a hidden identity, maybe most of your RP goes somewhere else!

For example, if you are looking to contact the Harpers, see How To Contact the Harpers

For more information about the faction itself, see The Harpers

[The Harpers]

Rumors speak of the disappearance of one Tristan Ebonhawk.

Disappearances are common enough, and would have gone unremarked, except the rumors say that Tristan was a Harper who betrayed Those Who Harp to the Zhentarim. Tristan's final fate remains unknown and no body has been found.

[The Harpers]

A song is heard circulating the taverns of the region.

• Hear ye, good people of the Coast!
  To rise your awareness, I call!
  For a shadow threatens us all,
  Ignored by some, unknown to most.
  
  Slowly, slyly, so silently,
  A foe spreads his dark influence ,
  With lies, advancing quietly,
  It made a dreadful alliance,
  
  In the past they used the same tools
  When to Hills Edge they led the Drows
  Promising to fake being foes
  And play the heroes, oh the fools!
  
  Poor choice, to rely on dark elves!
  The Drows left nothing there to save,
  So they kept their deeds to themselves
  And returned to plot in conclave.
  
  Meanwhile the Drows kept on raiding,
  Ulgoth and Greenest left bleeding,
  Victims of the foe's greed and hate
  That brought dark elves close to the Gate.
  
  Look further past and there is more.
  In Triel, Orcs were their decoy!
  Breaking lives and souls in their ploy.
  The land blighted. Still no savior.
  
  But they do not give up their prey
  They made a dreadful deal today,
  And in Triel the Orcs they armed.
  So people of the Coast be warned!
  
  Behind those blades, if you let them,
  What will rise from Triel's ashes
  Will serve to a dark stratagem,
  At a few miles from your houses
  
  Triel's future is in your hands,
  And key to the fate of this lands.
  Darkhold is the home of the foe.
  Will you let its ambition grow?

[The Harpers]

Rumors spread of a daring rescue by a band of Harper Agents. Three individuals, pursued by assassins, had made their way North, and were intercepted by the Harpers who offered them protection. The fugitives and the Harpers made their way north to relative safety away from the Lands of Amn, but they were assaulted on all sides by Calish assassins, bent on killing the fugitives and the Harpers. The bodies of the assassins can sill be seen for a full day after the fighting, scattered from the High Hedge Estates to the Coast just south of Candlekeep, until the scavengers eventually pick the bodies clean.

No word on where the fugitives ended, whether it was at Candlekeep or further North to Baldur's Gate or beyond. On the Lion's way, there were no further signs of attack, and the fugitives and the Harpers seemed to have faded into the shadows. What secrets the trio of fugitives carried to make them such targets is a matter of speculation.

[The Harpers]

A song begins circulating the inns and taverns of Baldur's Gate. Rumour has it that it was first heard when a local Priest of Ilmater recited in the palace district, looking towards the Temple of Tymora. It goes as follows:

Liam the Golden, so I am told,
Preaching loud for Tymora the Bold.

His deeds say different, if only they knew,
How he cooked up for Bhaal an Elven stew;

How he sang softly for foul servants of Bane;
How he sought to bring meek innocents cruel pain!

Liam the Golden, so I have heard,
Yet truly none can polish a...

In its original form the last word is left unsung, for audiences to shout out their suggestions, although whether that survives contact with tavern singers or not is unclear.

Yet as the song passes through the rumour mill, it becomes apparent that it is being spread from Harper sources.

Hidden: show

///related to this post:

A tall bronze-skinned tiefling with golden hair and resplendent blue-lacquered armor has been seen roaming the streets of Balder's Gate and the farmlands beyond. Normally not a remarkable occurrence apart from his rich garb, but this man carried with him a banner of Tymora enchanted to frame the silk cloth with a softly glowing flame. And if the lordly-looking man with the flaming banner weren't enough to draw the eyes of those he passed, he seemed to examine each person on the street; seemingly at random approaching some and offering them a handful of gold coin along with the greeting, "Tymora smiles on you today, friend." before walking away with nary a glance behind.

Hidden: show

(((edited after discussion with Boddynock to render the RP less controversial for all of us! No hard feelings)))

[Boddynock]

Liam, hearing about this insult, is happy to have inspired such artistic musings even if he is not excited about it's content. Regardless, he makes his way to the Palace district to deliver his response, his words flowing with the masterful grace of a born performer and a true bard.

"Long have these "do-gooders" hidden behind
The cover of shadow, paying the world no mind.
The concern themselves not, with the burden of proof,
For a faceless group has no use for the truth.

These "paladins" they say, do good all the day,
And yet it seems to most, up and down the Coast,
That all they do well is condemn others to hell.

A "priest of Ilmater" would never be so base,
To come to a goodly temple and deface,
The reputation of a man Tymora knows true.
I don't believe that man is Ilmatari, do you?

Next time, my friend, you come to MY house,
Perhaps consider bringing your spouse!
Then you could take the time to explain,
Why a priest of Ilmater would ignore so much pain.
The pain I speak of, caused by the Zhents,
With whom your beloved worked quite a long stint.

Run along now, tail betwixt your legs.
Perhaps next time you can muster better than dregs
Of poorly matched verse, and ill spoken prose.
And perhaps next time challenge a man with a smaller hose."


Liam finishes with a flourishing bow for his whatever audience may have gathered, smirking confidently and waiting for a response, if any.

((Final edit to account for changes in the situation))

[The Harpers]

Rumour has it the Harp has been playing more loudly than usual recently. Words loud and quiet, in fact. And ready ears to listen, too.

[mumble]

In the past tenday a new song began to stir in the taverns and inns. Slowly at first, in isolated events or on parchment left behind on a table. The song is called "Look to Elturel". Those that find the parchment with the song would discover detailed on the back a picture of a thin, pale, white haired elf bent down on his knees before a man sitting on a throne. There is a caption that reads: "See how the Dreadlord bows to Grand Duke Entar."

Today at early light when folks were awakening and getting food around various establishments, the plain faced minstrel in blue and yellow returned, lute in hand. He again sings the jolly tune Dirty Zhents but also a new song, this one with warlike tone.

Look to Elturel

Dark tendrils reach the Gate,
Look to Elturel.
They preach brutality and hate,
Look to Elturel.

The Watcher is alert,
Look to Elturel.
The war is not covert,
Look to Elturel.

They fight dirty Zhents,
Look to Elturel.
They do not relent,
Look to Elturel

Hellriders go to war,
Look to Elturel,
Their courage evermore,
Look to Elturel.

In one particular establishment, as if almost by request, there is a transition in the lutists sound and two verses are sung before the minstrel moved on.

The wizards of Nay
In pink dresses they sway
Enter the enclave
you'll met your last day!

Your body then found
Arrow filled up and down.
Shrugging pink shoulders,
Their dresses turn brown!

[The Harpers]

In the past tenday a new song began to stir in the taverns and inns. Slowly at first, in isolated events or on parchment left behind on a table. The song is called "Whispers among Friends". A way to have people know of the Harper's presence, looking for new friends, and work together.

Seek, oh seeker, in shadows you tread,
In clandestine corners, where secrets are bred.
A location veiled, a friend's embrace,
Where destiny's weavers converge in grace.

Silent, the first step, in shadows you linger,
Inquiries masked with an incognito finger.
Rumors dance in the midnight air,
Find the subtlest cues, unravel the snare.

In the tapestry of intrigue, where stories unfold,
Obscurity beckons, secrets yet untold.
Nestled in whispers, clandestine and sly,
Oh, seeker, your journey has just begun, oh my.

To join our friends, know us you must.
Emissaries of balance, with knowledge profound,
Dance with the shadows, where truths are found.
Whispers of wisdom in the moon's soft glow,
A friend awaits, the path you must follow.

Evade the overt, seek the subtle sign,
Decipher the riddle, let your senses align.
Wander where shadows meet the unknown,
And secrets concealed in whispers are sown.

Answer the call, embrace the unseen,
Step through the veil where the harp strings convene.
And when the moon in its zenith is high,
The friend's symphony echoes, a celestial sigh.

Illuminate the shadows, let destiny weave,
Awaken, oh seeker, to the call of the night,
In the silent embrace, where shadows take flight.

Please follow this method if you wish to contact us!

[The Harpers]

Nestled within the bustling streets of Baldur's Gate, a weathered parchment adorned with inked verses awaits discovery. Affixed to the corkboard near the central fountain in the Upper City's market square, the poetic call echoes amid the vibrant atmosphere of merchants and patrons. The harp's melody, an invitation to join a known fellowship, beckons those with an ear for adventure.

Yet, nearby, another message emerges, hastily scrawled on the reverse side. Pinned with a sense of urgency, it laments the plight of refugees chased by Mage Hunters. This desperate cry for empathy and justice resonates in the air, drawing the attention of passersby and challenging the status quo.

As the sun casts long shadows on the cobbled streets, the contrasting messages converge, creating a poignant tableau that mirrors the complex tapestry of life within the Gate. Adventurers passing through find themselves at a crossroads, torn between the allure of harpers' melodies and the harsh reality of a town divided by fear and hunger.

Beneath Baldur's Gate's sun-kissed spires, where tales unfold in vibrant fires,
Hear the harps that call anew, seeking hearts both brave and true.
Join our fellowship, minstrels fair, crafting songs in open air,
For Baldur's Gate, with chords profound, welcomes those with purpose found.

Yet, woes befall the refugees, chased by Mage Hunters, hearts to seize.
In Nashkel's plight, they hunger, weep, while hunters cold their vigil keep.
Presumed mages, in the shadows they hide, while the town's cry for protection bides.
Starving souls, their hopes withdrawn, amid the hunt, their dreams are gone.

Let the harp's refrain resound, a plea to those who wear the crown,
In Nashkel's need, in shadows cast, let justice rise and kindness last.
For harpers true, with notes so clear, seek recruits to calm the fear,
In Baldur's Gate, let mercy flow, and end the hunters' cruel blow.

Please follow this method when you wish to contact us!