Rumors of the Northern Sword Coast

[DaloLorn]

A fancily-dressed, petite drow woman could recently be seen entering Soubar in the company of a colossal air genasi male. She seemed fairly unconcerned with concealing her identity as she put up flyers throughout the village; perhaps precisely because the flyers revealed her true nature anyway.

Upon completing her tour of Soubar, she would take a caravan to Roaringshore, putting up more flyers, purchasing a few items, and staying briefly at the Broken Goblet before teleporting back to Soubar to take a second caravan to Darkhold. In both cases, she would have spent the days covered up in a makeshift tent to shield her from the worst of the sunlight (and reduce the risk of ambush by any roaming elves).

After being turned away at the gates of Darkhold, she once again teleported to Soubar, and now remains at Mag's inn, apparently stranded for the time being.

The same drow could once again be seen entering Soubar, alone this time, and putting up a new set of flyers. This time, however, she did not waste time with caravans, nor did she bother visiting Darkhold: Once she was done with Soubar, she immediately teleported to Roaringshore to post more flyers there, and then teleported again to Soubar.

As she did last time, however, she seems either unable or unwilling to return to the Underdark under her own power...

[DaloLorn]

Once again, Soubar's drow visitor is soon led away from the village. This time, it is on foot, southwards in the company of a Cyricist.

Wherever they went, and whatever happened afterwards, only one of them might return to Soubar in the coming days...

[Moonsong]

A poster is being hung out in various places by a figure, dressed in Blue with a hood, that covers all hair coloring and ears. But an arm binding with the symbol of Candlekeep can clearly be seen as some kind of warning, that who ever touches the person hanging out the posters in a harmful way, might be a fool to do so.

Obviously some person went missing, a sketch has been added, and the Keep itself is looking for him!

Missing!



Have you seen this man?

If so, please direct any information to Candlekeep. His name is Cassian Atherton and we wish to see him back alive.

Informations in person, written messages and also in magical ways are gladly taken.

Thank you in advance.

((OOC Note: This is a character development plot. So please be sensible enough to communicate with us, if you want to play aalong. Secretive or not, if there's any questions, please feel free to ask me. ))

[renshouj]

≈ Greengrass, 1359

A peaceful rainy evening of festivities took place in the Tranquil Pools. The red-haired High Druid of the Green Enclave could be seen merrily celebrating the Greening, jumping in the pools, dancing and humming various melodies..

She'd after be joined by a fiery genasi and a white-haired tiefling, who accompanied her in celebration through song, offerings, prayer and peaceful conversation.

[DaloLorn]

A pair of heavily scarred half-drow mages could be seen wandering into the Eldathyn grove yesterday. One well-warded, the other a walking armory, they nonetheless showed no hostile intent towards the grove's guardians, preferring instead to head over to the spring deep in the grove. Once there, they spent a good while talking about various topics, both between themselves and with the armored moon elf that later came around.

Some time later, keen-eyed observers might have spotted the heavily-armed girl curled up sleeping behind a bush. Despite her past wounds and sizable arsenal, there is an almost childlike innocence to the blissful, uncannily comfortable way which she sleeps - almost as if she were a little girl resting in her mother's arms...

[BloodRiot]

A tall dark clad man, whose identity as a drow was only kept discreet by his hood, was seen leaving the town of Soubar after a conversation with a few of it's residents and and fully armored woman.

[Genuinely Spurious]

The Reaching Wood stood tall and imposing, its ancient trees stretching towards the sky. Declan, accompanied by his loyal warhorse Aegis, ventured into its depths on a routine patrol. The sun's rays filtered through the foliage, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor as they made their way through the winding trails.

As they navigated a narrow valley, an eerie silence enveloped them. A sense of unease settled upon Declan, his instincts on high alert. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as four gnolls burst forth from the undergrowth, their vicious snarls echoing through the air.

Reacting swiftly, Declan drew Silverbite, his trusty blade gleaming in the filtered sunlight. Aegis reared up, prepared to unleash its powerful hooves upon the approaching adversaries. The gnolls, a ruthless pack, had set an ambush, positioning themselves strategically. Among them was an archer, readying its bow, a shaman conjuring dark energies, and two fierce warriors poised for battle.

The clash of steel and the gnarled howls of combat reverberated through the valley. Declan fought with valor, his strikes fueled by unwavering determination. Aegis lashed out, trampling the gnolls that dared to draw close. Yet, the gnolls were cunning adversaries, their ferocity matched only by their hunger for blood.

In the midst of the chaotic skirmish, a gnoll warrior's blade found its mark, slicing through Declan's defenses and grazing his side. Pain seared through his body, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to yield to the agony. With a surge of adrenaline, he retaliated, striking down one of the gnolls with a mighty swing of his sword.

Aegis, sensing its master's pain, unleashed a powerful kick, incapacitating another gnoll. The remaining foes grew desperate, their attacks growing frenzied as they realized their numbers were dwindling. Declan, wounded but resolute, fought on, parrying their strikes and retaliating with measured precision.

As the battle raged, the gnolls' ambush began to unravel. The archer, sensing the tides turning against them, unleashed a final arrow, narrowly missing Declan's shoulder. Seizing the opportunity, Aegis delivered a crushing blow to the archer, toppling it to the forest floor.

With three comrades defeated, panic gripped the shaman. Sensing defeat, the wounded shaman, cast a desperate spell and vanished into the depths of the Reaching Wood, leaving behind an echoing cackle that faded into the distance.

As the chaos subsided, Declan stood amidst the aftermath of the battle. Wounds marred his body, blood staining his armor, but his resolve remained unyielding. With a deep breath, he surveyed the fallen gnolls, the threat they posed now extinguished.

With Aegis by his side, Declan tended to his injuries as best he could, staunching the bleeding and wrapping his wounds. Though the encounter had left him wounded, it was not a mortal blow. He knew he would recover, for his determination burned brighter than ever.

Declan's gaze lingered on the gnoll that had escaped, a reminder of the dangers that lurked within the Reaching Wood. With renewed purpose, he vowed to continue his patrol, ensuring the safety of those who traversed this ancient forest.

With the battle behind him, Declan pressed forward, resolute in his duty. The Reaching Wood may be a place of peril, but his unwavering devotion to justice and protection would guide him through the shadows, undeterred by the wounds of the past.

[Mr J1991]

The tiefling known as Sera was seen in the small walled settlement of Winding Waters. Donned in black padded leather of a foreign look, she made her way to the small shop there. She climbed the spiral staircase and spoke to the herbalist there, paying some coin for several sealed bags of orange like sap.

When she left, she was seen by guards heading towards the strange temple that lay nestled in the rocks. Some time passed, but when she was seen returning, she did so in the company of a mage by the name of Brigitte and a dwarf by unknown name, to her at least. She seemed to know Brigitte, speaking to her in a relaxed manner. She parted ways with them when they headed to Soubar, opting to avoid the place.

Afterwards, she was seen lingering around for some time, eyes focused on the way that Brigitte departed. She seemed indecisive on something, but a mere candlemark later, she made her way back to the Gate.

[Titania_1]

A masked woman leans against the trunk of a large tree, sitting amongst the red flowers. She seems to be going through her bag, checking her supplies quietly and making sure she has enough bandages and potions. She comes across a bottle of lavender oil. Applying some of the oil on her neck and a light brush through her wild red hair, she breathes in the calming scent before putting the bottle away. She touches her necklace, which has a single wood-carved mushroom tied to it. "Don't worry... will return soon." She looks to the waterfall ahead of her briefly, admiring the rainbow appearing over it. "Just need to... protect people first." Letting go of the mushroom, she stands up, collecting her halberd and spiked tower shield. She departs from the peaceful area to meet up with the Myradon Vindicators in Nashkel.

[Fire Wolf]

A genasi druid could be seen in the Tranquil Pools, offering prayers to Eldath as well as delivering an offering on the behalf of a woman he had met in Baldur's Gate. The offering was a bag of 777 coins, which the druid had been asked to bring to the shrine as thanks for magical assistance that had been provided.

[selhan]

From the Outer Farmlands of Baldur's Gate to the dark corners of Soubar and beyond the Reachingwoods, there's been strange reports of aggressive rats attacking the respected local residents or even traveler's. It was examined that the rats had a very foul stink to them, and that the flesh upon their bodies had already decayed as if they been dead quite sometime.

Along the Tradeway North East of Soubar however, three individuals had fended off a mass amount of the same manner of rat. One man claim to have seen off in the distances a human figure in ragged green clothing running off with a large cage in hand. Upon further searching. The three individuals came upon a camp site with crates filled with dead rotting rats and a smell intensely foul.

DM Blight

[Genuinely Spurious]

In the heart of the Reaching Wood, a realm shrouded in an eerie silence, Declan Nash ventured forth on a solitary patrol. His footsteps were careful, each one a deliberate press against the forest floor, as he navigated the dense thicket. The rustling leaves whispered secrets to the wind, and the air held a sense of anticipation, as if the very woods were watching and waiting.

As he moved deeper into the wood, a low growl reached his ears, followed by the haunting yips and howls of gnolls. The sound was an ominous symphony, a warning of danger lurking nearby. Declan's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of Silverbite, his trusted longsword, as he readied himself for the confrontation that lay ahead.

Emerging from the shadows came the gnolls, their wild eyes gleaming with malice. They circled him, a predatory dance that hinted at their intent. But Declan was not one to be easily swayed. With a determined stance, he held his ground, his sapphire eyes locked onto the creatures before him.

The clash was swift and brutal, steel meeting fur and fang. Declan moved with a fluid grace, his strikes calculated and precise. One by one, the gnolls fell before his blade, their twisted forms slumping lifelessly to the forest floor. His breath came in measured gasps, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he stood amidst the aftermath of battle.

But the danger was far from over. Unbeknownst to Declan, an assassin devil stalked him through the shadows, his presence concealed by the very darkness that clung to the wood. The devil's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly malevolence as he observed Declan's every move, his anticipation building with each passing second.

As Declan pressed forward, determined to uncover the source of the gnolls' malevolent presence, he came upon a cavern entrance—an ominous maw that seemed to beckon him closer. The air grew thick with tension, and a shiver of foreboding crawled down his spine as he cautiously approached the opening.

What he witnessed within the cave was a sight that chilled his very soul. A pit fiend, towering and grotesque, stood before a gnoll Pack Leader. Their voices melded into a guttural symphony of Abyssal tongues, their conversation a sinister exchange of intent. Declan's grip on his sword tightened, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and resolve.

It was in that moment that the assassin devil made his presence known, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare given form. His malevolent gaze fixed on Declan, the devil's lips curled into a cruel grin as he conjured a shadowy companion to aid him in the impending battle.

Without hesitation, the pit fiend bellowed a fearsome roar, its thunderous sound shattering the unnatural silence that had enveloped the wood. With a monstrous charge, it lunged at Declan, claws outstretched and fangs bared. Steel met claw in a clash that echoed through the ancient trees, each strike a testament to the raw power that coursed through both combatants.

Declan's shield became his steadfast ally, a barrier against the pit fiend's onslaught. With a powerful thrust, he knocked the creature off balance, seizing the opportunity to strike back. Silverbite gleamed with a deadly purpose as it cleaved through the air, finding its mark with a resounding impact. The pit fiend staggered, a guttural growl escaping its twisted maw.

But victory was far from assured. Just as Declan gained the upper hand, the assassin devil weaved through the shadows with an unnatural grace, his wicked daggers glinting with malevolence. A chilling whisper echoed through the air as the devil's shadowy companion materialized, lunging at Declan with ethereal claws that sought to tear through his armor.

The battle raged on, a chaotic symphony of steel and shadows beneath the ancient boughs. Declan's breath came in ragged gasps as he deftly parried each strike, his determination unwavering despite the toll the fight was taking on his body. The pit fiend's blows were devastating, each strike a reminder of the creature's immense strength. Yet Declan pressed on, his resolve fueled by the memory of his vows and the unwavering faith that guided his every move.

As the battle reached its crescendo, Declan's senses honed in on a moment of vulnerability—the pit fiend's defenses momentarily compromised. With a fierce battle cry, he drove Silverbite forward with all his strength, the blade piercing through the fiend's chest with a sickening crunch. The pit fiend's monstrous form convulsed, its roars of agony filling the air before fading into an unsettling silence.

But the battle was far from over. The assassin devil, undeterred by his ally's demise, redoubled his efforts, his shadowy companion morphing and twisting in its attempts to land a fatal blow. Declan's movements became a dance of survival, his sword flashing with a blinding intensity as he deflected each strike with unwavering determination.

The final clash came with a surge of adrenaline, both combatants locked in a deadly struggle. With a final, desperate strike, Declan drove Silverbite into the assassin devil's heart, a blaze of radiant light illuminating the wood as the devil let out a piercing shriek before dissipating into nothingness.

The forest was once again engulfed in an eerie silence, the only sound the ragged breaths of a victorious knight. Declan stood amidst the aftermath, his armor stained with sweat and the blood of his adversaries. He had emerged victorious, his unwavering faith and unyielding resolve carrying him through the harrowing ordeal.

As he surveyed the scene, the weight of his actions settled upon him, a mix of exhaustion and triumph. The Reaching Wood had borne witness to a battle of epic proportions, and Declan Nash, a knight bound by duty and driven by faith, emerged from the shadows victorious, a testament to the unbreakable spirit of one who walks the path of honor and valor.

[Rumors]

"A Sight Unseen, Part Two"


The Dark Figure would turn his gaze to a female wizard named Erzebet. To neutralize her, the figure decides to strike while she and her companions are on the road, far from any immediate help or reinforcements.

While Erzebet's party is camped in a remote location, the figure approaches stealthily, shrouded in the darkness of the night. With a malevolent intent, they channel their magic, invoking a forbidden and gruesome spell. This dark spell sends a surge of energy coursing through Erzebet's veins, causing her blood to rebel against her own body. Blood vessels rupture within her brain, resulting in a sudden, violent aneurysm. Blood erupts from her eyes and nostrils as she collapses to the ground in agonizing pain. Her companions are taken by surprise, scrambling to her aid as they witness the horrifying scene.

Erzebet's companions, rush to stabilize her condition. Desperate incantations and magical interventions are employed in a frantic attempt to save her life. While they manage to prevent her immediate demise, the ordeal leaves her gravely injured, and she loses some of her memories due to the trauma inflicted by the spell.

The dark figure, satisfied with the chaos and suffering they have caused, retreats into the shadows, leaving behind a shaken and wounded Erzebet and her companions. The female wizard, is now left to grapple with the physical and emotional scars of the brutal attack, her memories fragmented and her future uncertain.

You will never be safe...

Image Credit: AI generated
Permission Received from Erzebet's player to post this rumor.
Kayle Walker

[Rumors]

"A Sight Unseen, Part Three"


In the dead of night, under the cloak of obsidian skies, the Dark Figure watches a bandit camp from the concealment of dense woods. The moon casts an eerie glow upon the camp, illuminating the bandits as they revel in their stolen riches.

The Dark Figure moves with speed and silence, their footsteps unheard amidst the symphony of chirping crickets and rustling leaves. The tension in the air becomes palpable as the figure channels their magic, weaving it into the very fabric of the night.

The attack commences as shadows surge from the earth, writhing like malevolent serpents as they slither toward the bandit camp. The warm, comforting light of the campfires flickers and fades as the shadows envelop them, plunging the entire area into a shroud of supernatural darkness. Panic ripples through the bandits as they scramble for torches and weapons, their voices trembling with fear.

Amidst the chaotic abyss, the Dark Figure emerges, their presence a harbinger of dread. The bandits are ensnared by the inky tendrils of darkness, rendered powerless and unable to escape the suffocating grip of the unnatural night. Desperation fills the air as they struggle against the inescapable shadows, their futile efforts intensifying their terror.

One by one, the Dark Figure selects their victims, their strikes as swift as the night breeze and as deadly as a reaper's scythe. Crimson magic surges through their veins as they pierce the hearts of their prey, drawing forth the life essence that sustains them. The bandits' eyes widen with dread as their strength wanes, and they collapse, leaving behind only desiccated husks.

As dawn begins to break, the bandit camp is transformed into a scene of nightmarish carnage. The bandits, once a menace to travelers along the trade way, now lie defeated and drained of life.

[Rumors]

"A Sight Unseen, Part Four"


A Dark Figure, stalks a small adventuring group that has set up camp in the wilderness. This group, consisting of a few brave souls seeking fortune and glory, has no idea of the ominous presence lurking nearby. Silent as a shadow, the dark figure moves closer to their camp, keenly aware of the group's sentries and their patrol routes. It waits for the opportune moment when the adventurers' guard is at its lowest.

As the sentries' vigilance wanes and they settle into a false sense of security, the Dark Figure makes their move. With a flick of their hand, they cast a spell of darkness, enveloping the adventurers' camp in an impenetrable blackness. Panic erupts among the adventurers as they fumble for their weapons, unable to see their surroundings.

Image Credit: Disco Elysium
The Dark Figure takes advantage of the chaos, their abilities enabling them to move freely within the magical darkness. They strike swiftly and silently, incapacitating one adventurer after another with precise strikes and debilitating spells. The group's cries of confusion and desperation only add to the fear that grips them.

In a matter of moments, the small adventuring group is reduced to a state of disarray and despair. The Dark Figure stands amidst the chaos, a sinister presence draped in shadows and the blood of their victims. The Figure's hand moves with an eerie grace, fingers tracing sigils of dark power in the air. As they do so, a crimson aura envelops each lifeless form. The blood within the veins of the deceased begins to stir, as if responding to an unholy call.

Image Credit: Nequarilj
With each motion, the dark figure siphons the remaining life force from the fallen adventurers, their bodies growing pale and withered as their essence is drained away. The essence courses through the dark figure, absorbing the vitality of their victims and adding it to their own reservoir of energy.

Their attack serves as a chilling reminder of the evil that lurks in the world, ready to strike at those who dare to venture into its depths.

The Dark Figure leaves as quickly as he arrived.