Rumors & RP of Darkhold

[Nomster]

Death at its Appointed Hour


A thin, blonde figure clad in grey sways from the gallows in Darkhold. Rumours spread that the Scrivener of Jergal, Cara Joriani, was executed for treason; for betraying the Zhentarim and conspiring against Darkhold.



OOC:
Feel free to take the body for a resurrection etc, hopefully with the consent of Cara Joriani/Mangel. Would be nice if Zhentarim were notified, if only so we can stop emoting it being there. No repercussions will be taken for anyone just calmly going in and cutting it down.

[DM mdwagner]

Original post by Sani and approved by myself:

*the smoke of caravan wagons can be seen burning from Darkhold at the base of the mountain, by the time anyone arrives on the scene they are completely burned to the skeleton of metal parts*

*scattered around the scene are several dead Zhentarium guards, a dead magus, a dead war elemental, most of the Zhentarium bodies are missing there insignia*

*if any of the drovers return to Dark Hold, they would tell of Mercury, Terri, Kory, and Sani undisguised, and give good descriptions. They would mention that the guards fought to the bitter end. That the wagons were burned and that Sani looted the guards insignia's.*

[Xanfyrst]

The dead body of the Jergalist priestess, Cara Joriani, disappeared during the night. The Zhentilar guards does not seem to care, or even notice. Too many dead bodies hanging there already, probably.

/// sorry for the inconvenience, Wagner! Just better to get it from a DM, so we can blame them if something isn't correct or fully described!

[Nomster]

Take Up the Tasks No Others Dare


The bounty list in Darkhold has a few names crossed over it. Messengers are sent out, to proclaim that Cecilia Lafayette and Ameris Santraeger are no longer to be pursued by the Zhentarim. It is rumoured that this proclamation was made in Ulgoth's Beard, in front of Cecilia Lafayette and Ameris Santraeger at the Light-Bringer Society's "Triel Restoration Plan" meeting.

______________________________________________________________________
The Black Network is issuing the following bounties:

Myhun Kren
Former Zhentarim officer, wanted for high treason and various offences against the legal sovereignty of Darkhold. He is a dangerous wizard capable of disappearing into shadows without trace. Keen perception will be required for those willing to go after this traitor.

Description: An elderly human male who walks with a limp, often supporting himself with a staff. He has a distinct foreign accent. His skin is tanned, his eyes brown. Wears a turban. Claims to have had his mind meddled with, resulting in some kind of loss of memory.

Reward
Alive: 50 bags of gold
Dead: 30 bags of gold



Alaan
A delusional vagrant who spews hatred and threats against the Zhentarim openly. A deserter and a traitor by his own admission. He is capable of slipping into shadows, keen perception will be required to capture this criminal.

Description: A tall, fair skinned human male with black hair reaching to his shoulders. He has blue eyes and a stubble of a beard. He is usually found clad in black clothes.

Reward
Alive: 5 bags of gold
Dead: 1 bag of gold



Ameris Santraeger
A Harper who was found guilty of an assault on a Zhentarim officer, his sentence was death. It would seem that even in death he refuses to follow the letter of the law. Anyone who can execute his sentence and make sure it stays in effect will be well rewarded. He is an Ilmateri cleric of considerable power and a Harper, subtlety is advised. He can usually be found around the temple of Ilmater in Baldur's Gate.

Description: A Tethyrian human male with short brown hair, green eyes. Reserved but polite. Noble manners. Always wearing a symbol of Ilmater.

Reward
Dead: 20 bags of gold
Irrefutable proof of dealing with drow: 50 bags of gold

This man is no longer to be pursued.


Cecilia Lafayette
A war monger from Cormyr who, by her own admission, attempted to drag both the city of Baldur's Gate and her home nation of Cormyr into war with Darkhold. She was sentenced to death but remains breathing to this day. While she is of little consequence, the law must be enforced. She can usually be found around the Radiant Heart chapterhouse in the farmlands or the temple of Tyr in Baldur's Gate.

Description: A Cormyrean young female aasimar with blonde hair, pointed ears and blue eyes.

Reward
Dead: 2 bags of gold
Irrefutable proof of dealing with drow: 50 bags of gold

This woman is no longer to be pursued.


Za'than Za'mal
Wanted for an assault on a Zhentarim officer. His trail can be picked up near Candlekeep or around the Friendly Arm Inn.

Description: He is a blue skinned tiefling with black horns, red eyes and a moustache. He usually carries a staff with a flaming skull.

Reward
Dead: 5 bags of gold


Alleyne
Wanted for an assault on a Zhentarim officer. She can usually be found around the Friendly Arm Inn spewing nonsense, or near Candlekeep.

Description: An air genasi wizard with blue tinted skin and short cropped white hair.

Reward
Dead: 5 bags of gold


Sani
A blood mage of the most heinous kind, wanted dead for using blood magic and attempting to undermine trade in the north. Take caution around this woman as she can use others blood for sinister purposes. She is often seen with Mercury, Terri and Koryeneer of the group known as Trust of which she is also part of.

Description: A tall, pale skinned and frail young woman with brown hair and always seen wearing eye glasses. Prefers dresses with a gold trim.

Reward
Dead: 75 bags of gold if a vial of her blood can be gathered. Otherwise 50 bags of gold.


These bounties are only to be pursued within the northern region. Any acts of aggression outside of its vicinity will make the aggressor subject to local laws. Anyone who successfully claims one of these bounties can expect more well paying work in the future as well as temporary sanctuary in the Visitors' Tower if required. If you are claiming a dead bounty then you will have to provide irrefutable evidence of their demise.


//OOC NOTE: These are NOT assassination contracts, PvP rules are to be followed (unless there is an agreement between the bounty hunter and the target, but that is between them). "Only to be pursued within the northern region" is an IC nicety. Cover your own tracks.

If you complete a bounty write a RP post in this thread, or PM TheZhentarim account with an RP post if you wish to remain anonymous. You will also have to provide proof (both IC and OOC - screenshot) before collecting your reward. If you are bringing in the bounty alive send a PM to TheZhentarim account and/or contact one of the known Zhentarim members if you see them online. We check the account on a regular basis so the wait should not be long at all.

For those who have bounties on them, if you wonder what will happen to you in case you are captured or have concerns, you are welcome to PM us. We have re-worked our approaches to captivity etc after previous feedback.

[Xanfyrst]

Rumour spreads around that the Lord Castellan of Darkhold and his small entourage of Ebon Knights have returned after being gone for weeks on some unknown business. The Deceiver pays nobody any attention nor does he speak, as he makes his way towards his chambers with determined strides.

[Xanfyrst]

Rumours quickly spread that Eliphas Valkarian, the Lord Castellan of Darkhold and Knight-Commander of the fearsome Order of the Ebon Scepter, has recalled all Ebon Knights from their duties around the Heartlands and Sword Coast. The rumours spreads from the lowly Zhentilar guards to the merchants to Corm Orp and up and down the Trade Way.

Sightings of terrifying knightly individuals has been reported riding North, their mere presence giving everyone they pass a cold chill deep within their souls.

[Nomster]

The Lord Magus... demoted to Captain but still a mage, a Black Cloak of Darkhold stood outside the heavy doors of the castle. Cold wind blew in her face, snow fell down in her dark hair and formed a carpet on her shoulders. Over her shoulder, the Magus carried a heavy bag. Too heavy for her. She cursed under her breath as she began to walk down the many stairs. The Magus did it slowly, ignoring the weight and the harsh weather as best she could. There was after all, no hurry. Word would soon spread of her demotion. Let the guards see her walk outside. Knowing they could have stopped her but instead let her go. After all, who were they to question their superior... later they would be paying for it, likely with their lives.



The Magus recalled the gentle touch against her cheek, pleading but also demanding words.
"You'll die, Telia. Meaningless death... No matter what happens next...You won't be trusted... You understand that? ... Stay...Telia... So you prefer to be dead instead."
She grimaces and had to admit to herself that the words were true, and yet she had refused the offer.



And others... others who believed.
"...and -that- will end up destryoing you... what you really are... if you try to hold on too long. May the gods take me away... before I have to see what you become... if you do not..."
"... Leave," The Magus said out loud, the bag bouncing a little against her back as she took another step down the stairs. He had never finished the sentence, unable to. Instead he had drawn a deep breath, looking away. The pain and concern had been so real on his face. A topic she had begged him to not speak of.



The hurt, the pain. It went both ways. Sincere words, from someone who had betrayed her.
"I do not want lies between us. I want to know what I have to do.... I want to know how far...I have to go, to bring you back."
The Magus knew what she had done, knew that she had wanted to kill him. Told him to stay away, and yet his voice continued to speak in her mind. His blood... gods no, she best not think of that.



She turned around, gazing up at the statue of a mage with outreached arms and drew a deep breath and continued down the steps, across the courtyard. Near the gallows, the Magus stopped and eyed them for a moment.
"You can always get off the road you're walking, too. ... I'd be happy to carry you away to solid ground. But you'd have to trust in the forgiveness of others. ... I don't know if you trust very easily."
She then laughed bitterly, tore her eyes away from the gallows and gestured for the guards to open the gates. There was no forgiveness to be had, for some of the things she had done.



The gate was pulled up and Telia stepped outside on the drawbridge. No longer protected by the walls, the wind was fierce. As it howled around her, Telia could almost hear his words in amid the sound.
"...and I will ride after you, and with the wraith of my Lord Bane himself behind me."
A promise, sealed by a kiss. An understanding too, of who she served first. Who she was supposed to serve first. Telia looked over her shoulder, at Darkhold. Maybe he would find her and bring her back. She wondered in what shape she would be in then.



The wind tugged ferociously at her cloak as Telia pushed on against it as she tried to make up her mind of where to go. She would need to Teleport several times, make sure she could not be traced. Not be seen. Not be followed.

It would make her feel sick and weak. Vulnerable. She would also have to keep up her wards at all times, so no magic could detect her. Once she had made it to the mountains, with some protection from the wind again, Telia began to cast, reaching out to the wave, touching it gently.

Imagining... some place.



//OOC: I will try to tie up loose ends or assist with them as much as I can. For inquires etc which affect the Zhentarim, please PM to TheZhentarim account.

[Torgerias]

The formidable priest of Bane who preached with the aid of a halfling in Corm Orp several span past and left after desecrating the center of town and declaring it the domain of The Black Hand // see Ogorgon's event // returns, a sheen of sweat upon his bald head and dried blood caking his black armor, carrying a sack filled with armor, insignias, and weapons of bandits slain in the lands outside of the village.

"People of Corm Orp," his voice booms as he raises it to be heard in the town center, "the Black Hand and your neighbors to the north bring you the blessings of the Lord of Darkness this day. Through the power of my faith in the Lord of Strife, I have been granted the might to cleanse the lands around your village and purge the taint of beasts that would do you harm."

He raises his single gauntleted fist into the air, clenched, as he dumps the myriad of trophy items into the center of town, continuing to increase his voice's volume.

"Yet I do this only once, as a gesture to this town, for Bane shows us that the path to victory and greatness in life is to embrace strife. We could sweep down into Corm Orp and purge every evil which surrounds it, but to do so would be a disservice to you! It would not strengthen you to be coddled by the might of Darkhold! You would grow weak, and complacent, and soft. You would no longer face strife with your chins held high and your resolve mustered. You would have no reason to strive for greatness when everything is offered to you, and you've no longer the need to take what is deservedly yours. You would be but children hiding beneath our skirts, instead of men standing armored and watchful."

He sweeps the trophies he brought into a pile at his feat, beginning to chant beneath his breath as he does so and raising his eyes to the crowd.

"And so I say to you that with the blessings of the Black Hand shall this town carry itself into greatness through bowed knee to the Lord of Strife and the wisdom to see that all serve Him in life and in death."

As he finishes the statement, he executes the final phrase of his spell, calling down a flame strike to consume the pile of trophies place at the town center in front of him, his single gauntleted fist again raised high into the air and clenched tight.

"Any who heed the wisdom of my words and wish to see their full potential fulfilled may bend their knee and receive a blessing of Bane."

[Xanfyrst]

The news quickly spread throughout the entire fortress and its surroundings, that the former Lord Magus of the Black Cloaks, Telia Navra has betrayed the cause and abandoned Darkhold to seek refuge among those considered enemies of the Zhentarim.

The Lord Castellan of Darkhold, Eliphas the Deceiver, has ordered that she be found and brought back to the fortress.

[thids]

Late in the evening, a caravan entered the courtyard from the eastern gates, several cargo wagons accompanied by a single traveling coach. As the icy rain poured over the guards and the slaves unloading the wagons, the doors of a traveling coach opened and a young man clad in dark-tinted armor stepped outside. A curious creature of feline appearance followed in his footsteps, growling at the rain and curling one of its feelers around the man's mailed hand as he caressed its mane. His gaze moved around the courtyard, a hint of disdain evident from the scowl on his face. As the caravan master approached him, he handed him a rolled up parchment and pointed him to the driver without ever making eye contact, his focus remaining fixed on the great central structure of the fortress.

"Darkhold."

He murmured, his eyes finally shifting up towards the sky and the unrelenting rain that fell to the earth below.

"How fitting."

Several moments later he finally turned to ascend the stairs, the beast following in his footsteps obediently. The large doors that led into the keep swung open and both of them vanished inside.

[The Whistler]

The inky mare pants a puff of condensed air that wafts gloomily over Darkhold's rimed courtyard and rises into a cold, morning sky. It's been entire weeks since the spirited mount had last seen combat and it had recently begun to act erratically, much to her black-clad rider's chagrin. Slouching over the crest, the young man offers the mare a mollifying scratch underneath her left ear and whispers softly to her.

"You thirst, Sable. I can taste it. But if you think for a moment to buck me off the saddle, I will festoon my bedchamber with your guts."

Ushering the steed towards the gate, the dark figure lifts his left gauntleted hand in the air, signaling the guards to lift the portcullis. He hastens Sable's canter to a wide gallop and begins to descend the treacherous Far Hills in a hurry, markedly unafraid of the steep fall that awaited the unexperienced. His black cloak glided through the whipping winds as he shouted in an attempt to drown them out, reins bound fast in his hands.

"Onward, precious ! We must find the source of these incursions and put an end to them; nitwits, or daredevils these hapless wretches have made the mistake to defy the Black Network for the last time."

[The Whistler]

Lathander's warm rays began licking the Skull Gorge, causing the bandit camp to stir with a feverish hustle. Blaine sneered with searing contempt. As the degenerates slunk out of their flimsy tents, they looked like maggots writhing inside rancid feces from afar, he thought; fit only to be crushed underfoot. They weren't the ones responsible for the incursions, no. But the man cared little for details such as these - his orders were clear: "Find the outlaws operating out of these hills and bring me to them, that I may render judgement." And so he did. Thirty-two souls, vagabonds and miscreants all, forgotten by their families, drifting from place to place and preying on those weaker than them. While their lives were insignificant, their deaths would send across a strong message; that the Black Network was not to be trifled with.

Blaine gripped the Excruciarch's handle, shivering fraught with anticipation of the coming slaughter. He could cut the air with a knife, yet his cohorts were disquietingly calm. Only the Dreadmaster's dirlagraun companion seemed to mirror his excitement, restlessly lashing the wind with its feelers. It was as though it could taste the blood in the atmosphere, elegant and proud; the epitome of a predator. After making a tacit promise to once acquire one for himself, he turned his attention to his Lord who had taken a personal interest in this mission. A thoughtful pause followed and the signal was given. Soon, a tempest of steel and spell descended upon the unwary outlaws, turning their encampment into a veritable abattoir in a matter of minutes. The young man laughed at the irony; thirty-two except one lives snuffed as trivially as they once existed. An urchin was mercifully allowed to leave with his life to spread the word that the Far Hills were and always will be under Darkhold's uncontested protection; succor for the demoralized Zhentilar and a warning to all who would challenge the Zhentarim's absolute rule in the region.

The carcasses were arranged in a grotesque mound in the middle of the narrow, derelict traderoad so that the bandits could continue their lifelong habit of being a nuissance to society in death.

[talisen]

Rumors circulate of a gruesome discovery in the Sunset Mountains, east of Darkhold. Following three loud claps of thunder, a Zhentarim caravan was found destroyed deep in a snowy pass, its guards torn apart and strewn across the landscape, monstrous footprints set deep in the snow. The remnants of the wagons are scorched and burned, completely emptied of any valuables - what couldn't be carried away was deliberately destroyed. The mutilated corpses of the dead, apparently torn apart by some gargantuan beast, were neatly collected in a pile beside the wagons, as though ritualistically assembled.

Only one object stood out amongst the ruins; a single silver coin, heads on either side, was left in the path before the wagon.

[Klaggeddin1121]

Three wagons would have been seen leaving darkhold heading west. Accompanying the wagons and wagondrives are three dark clad individuals on horseback

[DM Ioulaum]

Daggers in the Dark

With the arrival of a caravan the eighth of Tarsakh (april) rumors begin to circulate of trouble in Zhentarim occupied Daggerdale. The caravan from the direction of Tilverton apparently caused a stir among the Zhentilar garrison of Darkhold. A meeting of the Black Cloaks was reportedly called, and the normally dour fortress was exceptionally lively with discussion on what might be going down.