Rumors of the Southern Sword Coast

[Sundown]

Naer'eanque had been resting and recovering for the last few days.
Yesterday Aerakiir had helped her with the remaining effects of the lightning, the symptoms had become significantly weaker.
(but not fully gone)

Now she was ready for physical work again.

In the following days, she joined Sane at the renewed grove and tried to contribute.
Even if he was not her mentor, he was still a more experienced druid than she was.
And so she followed his example attentive.
Young plants needed to be cared for, as did the animals that might already have found their way to the newly regenerated place.

To see as nature reclaimed a previously destroyed place, was certainly an educational experience for the young druidess.
A teaching of nature she doesn't want to miss.

[Valleriani]

It was whispered amongst the shadows, and now it echoes in the air. Zerros Ozmir spoke of it - of the coming tide, the rise of the Zhentarim and the Vale, his family.

"The time of complacency is over. My people, those loyal to me, will be rewarded. Protected. Cared for. A king is not a king without those who follow him. But those who oppose us? They will die. It's not Amn, or nature, or the weak that are my enemies. No. The true enemy is one who continues to betray us. The true enemy continues to belittle us, and now they are weakened. They will understand fear. They will understand the name Zhentarim, and what it really is."

"But listen carefully. If you do not stand in our way, if you stay out of the conflict, you have nothing to fear from me. Your lands, safe. I will not tread upon them if you do not provoke me. But -- if you decide to interfere, if you become an obstacle, prepare for the consequences."

"The Age of Terror is coming. And if you are in my way, you will learn what fear really is."

The fires were coming. It was only a matter of time.

[Lethze]

By the dawn of 16th of Nightal, a line of four cloak roaches were aligned in a line outside the Friendly Arms Inn, brandishing the glory of advanced clockwork machinary by their proud owners who just acquired them the other day from the depth of Upperdark.

What's out of ordinary is, one of the clock roach, owned by the Selunite priest Lunaethar Silverbloom, had acquired a voice, unlike its clockwork kindreds, and repeatedly uttered disturbing words, addressing the people as "organism", and spoke of an age of automaton, be it malfunction or possession.

With a crowd gathered around the gate of the inn, as usual, the faulty clock roach also became more and more restless. As it was asked whether or not it had received divine provindence for its voice, the roach answered, "No Gods, No Men, Only Machines", then ran off while eminating an obnoxious siren sound towards the north.

Now firmly believed the clockroach had gained sentience, the gang went on after it as its ownder Lunaethar worries that it would start cause harm to people. They went to the temple of Mystra for Archmage Extreme Sirion to scry on the automaton, but yields no result other than an image of pitch blackness. After a survival expert Alfny was hired, tracking it till the band of Chionthar, in which the sign showed that the clockroach had escaped to the bottom of the river. Alfny believed that it had been burried under the mud in the dept of the water, and that it would stay there, thus concluded the hunt of the rogue clock roach.

The farce appeared to be over with the loss of the hauler forver sink under the stream of Chionthar... or is it really that simple?...

[DM Verjigorm]

A Night of Tooth and Blade



A tide of swift death washed in with the blizzard that horrid night of the 23rd of Nightal. A great scourge of phantom-like vampires clad in shadow and elven ancestral attire poured forth from the Trade Way, into the Way of the Lion and eventually swept into the southwestern side of The Wood of Sharp Teeth, spreading into the forest to seek their goal. The few survivors that were left after the more direct encounters shared tales where they could - speaking of seemingly being allowed to leave, their pursuers offering only the slightest of chase before peeling off to return to formation. Notices of missing persons reports were tagged upon most noticeboards in great number in the regions affected. Despite the horrors of that night, piles of ash could be found scattered through the region, indicating some success against the threat.

The Bladestone Foundation retains control of the road towards Candlekeep, though with great injuries to their personnel. The enemy had evidently withdrawn before the defenders could sustain mortal injury.

A singular survivor, an unhinged and maddened human woman, was sighted about the Friendly Arm Inn - babbling of lost children and a tooth turned the wrong way, clashing against the clamping-down of a jaw not fit for this world. Most disregard her, dismissing her as but another victim rendered insane by loss.

The nights had grown darker and colder along the Coastal Trade Way, the unliving said to strike without warning from the shadows and leaving disturbing scenes to greet the morning light. The harsh winds along the Trade Way were seemingly moving towards a crescendo in a musical that would leave few without a chilling sensation along their spines.

Among those missing of adventurers and known figures seen to travel the region before the harrowing incident were people such as the elves Valis Tel'resanor and the arcanist named Saryx.

((The conclusion of this plot will likely occur in the coming year! Merry christmas and happy new year! ))

Hidden: show

[predrag]

Sane Fensen has been seen more on the Lion's way . Tending carefully to the grove there .
Watching over the animals present , and helping plants develop , as the place is still young in a way .

[predrag]

A few folks from the Green Enclave and a bear were seen around the grove on the Lion's Way .
They chatted a bit , spread some seeds and plucked some weeds .
After some hours and being sure the place was tended too and well protected still , they left towards the beach to the south .

[Zeikari]

On the 11th Kythorn 1361, the echo of thunder was heard in the outer reaches of the Sharp-Teeth Woods, accompanied by a screeching voice. Though the words appeared not too dissimilar from the orcish speech of the local inhabitants, the sound of the voice itself didn't bear the same deep guttural flair.
The shouting continued for quite a while, and the few orc hunters who went to investigate never returned back to their tribe. Judging by the tone, the speech being yelled at from the otherwise peaceful hill appeared to be an exhortation, or a challenge of some kind.



Just as suddenly as they had started, the cracking of lighting and the thundering of the orcish voice stopped. Those who would venture to the hill later would find the remnants of a baleful shrine. The green land around it was left desecrated and whipped by acidic rain into a blackened mess. Bits and pieces of wild game had been left as offerings, surrounding a pike that sported a collection of heads of humans and satyrs.
Looming over it all was the charred insignia of the Destroyer.

[Alcreed]

In the Woods of Sharp Teeth, load deep Orc tongue could be heard shouting across the forest. Rumor has it that some large orc was recruiting other orcs to join in his warband?



Was it the same Orc that has been leaving banners near Doron Amar? Evil is stirring.

[JustAnotherGirl]

A brunette ranger dressed in leathers and carrying a different bow than usual, approached the shrine of Meilikke. A gray wolf accompanied her. She leaned her bow against the base of the statue and began tending the shrine. She cared for the plants, cleared trash left behind, and lovingly dusted the statue itself. She was interrupted by ettins and goblins, but with her bow, made short work of the intruders. She was careful to pull the fight away from the sacred shrine. Afterward, she washed up in the water and settled in for some meditation and prayer. Her wolf companion remained close, keeping watch. She remained still for a couple candlemarks, the only motion that of her lips moving in silent prayer at times and stray pieces of hair blowing in the breeze. She seemed troubled about something, as if begging her goddess for help an intervention over a matter that burdened her. Before leaving the shrine, the sounds of simple lute playing and her voice could be heard. The tune was sad and haunting and sung in a language that wasn't common to the area.

[ValerieJean]

Word spreads throughout the farmland that the Church of the Triad and allies with them have set up a Triage area to aid in those who have been afflicted by the abyssal flora or those who require general healing. The place it is set for now is along the Chionthar towards Ulgoth's.

The call reaches out for Goodly Faiths to aid in this endeavor.