Rumors & Events of Soubar

[Arn]

He gave the monk a weird look, then with visible discomfort about the offering, the cook nodded quickly and hurried back to the Tavern.

Mi-Le, noticing the discomfort, doesn't really seemed bothered by it.

The memory surfaced quickly, and Mi-Le could recall a family of luminescent, fungal growths, native to Underdark. This one was particularly unkind to ignorant travelers who had the misfortune to initiate skin contact. The sticky mucus was known to cause a variety of symptoms; rash, sores, boils, and fever were fairly common but could be dealt with relatively efficiently if caught early.

///Be creative ///

"Ah. You'll want to thoroughly wash your armor, clothes, and anything else that touched the mushrooms. If you have alcohol on you, use all of it to wash your items. That is the best use for it. Because if you touch the the mushroom residue again, it can affect your skin quite badly. A fever is possible, as well." The monk gives his advice in a calm manner, and if his advice just happens to cause his patients to drink less for a little while, so much the better. "After you have treated your items, bathe yourselves in a cool pool or stream, and use soap. And consider staying out of the Underdark."

[DM Arrakeen]

"Ah. You'll want to thoroughly wash your armor, clothes, and anything else that touched the mushrooms. If you have alcohol on you, use all of it to wash your items. That is the best use for it. Because if you touch the the mushroom residue again, it can affect your skin quite badly. A fever is possible, as well." The monk gives his advice in a calm manner, and if his advice just happens to cause his patients to drink less for a little while, so much the better. "After you have treated your items, bathe yourselves in a cool pool or stream, and use soap. And consider staying out of the Underdark."

The idea of soap seemed to be little too much for the half-orc who appeared quite flabbergasted by implication. However, he nodded slowly and looked to his companions for aid.
"Clean-up. Got it, thanks!" the hin grinned. "We are due for a swim, fellas."
The third male regarded Mi-Le, "thanks for the advice."
After that, engaged in some friendly banter, the trio departed.

[FearBeforeTheFlames]

A commotion occurs at the base of the Ebon Blade Tower!

Several known members of the Ebon Blade gathered around what appeared to be a disturbance on the ground near the base of the tower. The ground disturbed, with a shadowy essence ebbing and flowing from a small area. An investigation appeared to have taken place. Witnesses near the scene whisper of a man whom appears to have fallen from the tower, though no body appeared to have been recovered. Speculation runs rampant among the Ebon Blade ranks that a mage known as Kordren Ivatrix was thrown from the tower ledge! Though the story remains shrouded in mystery.

[Leramak]

Today the Lady know as Morgan blackrose could be seen loading her pack horse outside the Ebon blades fort.
Hours later she would exit the fort and grab the reins of her mount and head toward the inn. Some around could swear she wore a smile on her face. she would be seen heading towards the inn, upon investigation anyone inquiring that she booked a room for a few days.

[Beek]

Perhaps standing out only slightly from the varied crowd of monstrous humanoids and men, a large northerner has become a regular within the Winding Way tavern and the communal fire of Soubar. Standing a head taller than most natives, the man is dressed in furs and garb of the far North, mixed with piecemeal additions of varied armor types. His gray beard mark him as someone who has seen many winters, the scars on his arms and face testify to many battles.

Finnvald Reghedsson, as he is called, is quick to drink with the visiting workers, locals, and merchants alike... singing along with bawdy tunes and, when particularly deep in the cups, spinning tales of his own about a battle in a place called Termalaine. Those with knowledge of such things would put his build, garb, accent, and tales as clearly a Reghedmen, though most would likely consider him "just another barbaric Northman".

He is looking for opportunities for battle, as demanded by his patron Tempos. He may have been overheard asking around for mercenary companies with active campaigns.

[MedalOfValor]

Ebon Blade Daily - Termination of Services

Just after dawn, simple, unadorned and artistically lacking posters find their way to the bulletin board in Soubar and into Mag's Tavern.
Written in tight, militaristic script, the parchments read.

As of today, the individual known as Morgan Blackrose is no longer a member of the Ebon Blade Mercenary Company.

Due to several disciplinary issues and severe breaches of conduct, I have terminated Miss Blackrose's contract effective immediately.

Lieutenant El
The Ebon Blade Mercenary Company

[YourMoveHolyMan]

Perhaps standing out only slightly from the varied crowd of monstrous humanoids and men, a large northerner has become a regular within the Winding Way tavern and the communal fire of Soubar. Standing a head taller than most natives, the man is dressed in furs and garb of the far North, mixed with piecemeal additions of varied armor types. His gray beard mark him as someone who has seen many winters, the scars on his arms and face testify to many battles.

Finnvald Reghedsson, as he is called, is quick to drink with the visiting workers, locals, and merchants alike... singing along with bawdy tunes and, when particularly deep in the cups, spinning tales of his own about a battle in a place called Termalaine. Those with knowledge of such things would put his build, garb, accent, and tales as clearly a Reghedmen, though most would likely consider him "just another barbaric Northman".

He is looking for opportunities for battle, as demanded by his patron Tempos. He may have been overheard asking around for mercenary companies with active campaigns.

A dark armored hunter, bearing a pin denoting him as a Sergeant with the Ebon Blade Company of Soubar, catches wind of the rumor and begins to hunt after this fur garbed northerner.

[YourMoveHolyMan]

The sounds of steel clashing, wards invoked, and the sizzling crackle of magic fill the air. Ooh's, aah's, cheers, and raucous laughter chase it as a group of armed men and women make their play in a grassy field near the hard pack of the Northern Tradeway.

A dark clad priest, in the dark fullplate of his station shows his might, downing a huntsman. The pair shaking it off and clashing steel again soon after.

A blue garbed woman with the mouth of a sailor cackles vivaciously as crimson shows on bared teeth following a brawl.

The dark downward facing sword worn on a few breastplates and belts denotes the crew as members of the Ebon Blade company, though a few are likely recruits or allies of the same.

Its even whispered that a sellsword of another company, a Golden Wheel man if mixed heritage, joins in their sparring. Easily welcomed and showing off his prowess.

[Glowfire]

The so called healer of Soubar isn't concerned about the monster races and the morally ambiguous local element keeping a distance as Mi-Li and Daishi Tora give a hand at the tent but he has taken notice of it. If there is anyone he knows in that group who needs further medical oversight and who hasn't come around, he'd seek them out himself but otherwise leave it be for the time being. Kazimir also makes sure there's supplies at the healing tent, which would always be of high quality despite the look of the rest of the tent. He'd have noticed Mi-Le having scrubbed off old dried blood from some of the crates serving as a operating table but not remarked on it.

On one of the days the priest is in Soubar, he can be seen visiting Oria Firalis after her market stall has closed. On another day, he makes his way to the Winding Way and hands Betha a small pouch. "For the broth you've been coming around with. ...and perhaps for letting Mag know I'm around if she still wants to have that little chat?"

[DM Arrakeen]

The so called healer of Soubar isn't concerned about the monster races and the morally ambiguous local element keeping a distance as Mi-Li and Daishi Tora give a hand at the tent but he has taken notice of it. If there is anyone he knows in that group who needs further medical oversight and who hasn't come around, he'd seek them out himself but otherwise leave it be for the time being. Kazimir also makes sure there's supplies at the healing tent, which would always be of high quality despite the look of the rest of the tent. He'd have noticed Mi-Le having scrubbed off old dried blood from some of the crates serving as a operating table but not remarked on it.

On one of the days the priest is in Soubar, he can be seen visiting Oria Firalis after her market stall has closed. On another day, he makes his way to the Winding Way and hands Betha a small pouch. "For the broth you've been coming around with. ...and perhaps for letting Mag know I'm around if she still wants to have that little chat?"

By now Kazimir knew that Priya tended to let her alchemical burns get bad before coming in, especially if she was working on a new poison design, or that the were-wolves preferred to stalk him away from the tent rather than near it. He was also aware of the brawls that liked to break out among the tents at the far back, and that some of the thugs would rather be seen dead than at the healing tent in the middle of the day.

When offered money by the priest, Betha laughed and shook her head lightly, refusing the offering. "It was on the house!" the young woman exclaimed then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I wanted to make a good impression on your guests from so far away. I even asked Ra'maseh to add a little bit more meat to it than usual," the barmaid smiled. "Mag is meeting Shifty, Mudd, and Harmony in the kitchen, but they should be out soon. They've been at it all morning."

[Glowfire]

By now Kazimir knew that Priya tended to let her alchemical burns get bad before coming in, especially if she was working on a new poison design, or that the were-wolves preferred to stalk him away from the tent rather than near it. He was also aware of the brawls that liked to break out among the tents at the far back, and that some of the thugs would rather be seen dead than at the healing tent in the middle of the day.

The priest would make occasional rounds around the rougher parts of Soubar after dark and before dawn, carrying a satchel of supplies with him. Those observing Kazimir might notice that he's as calm as he usually is and that while he is armed his hands don't stray near his blades for comfort. He'd not paying any particular mind to anything questionable he might notice as he walks around unless someone he knew was involved or it was particularly abhorrent. The poor light doesn't seem to bother him as he seems to be able to notice well enough if someone was wounded. He'd not approach anyone uninvited, unless they were unconscious.

When offered money by the priest, Betha laughed and shook her head lightly, refusing the offering. "It was on the house!" the young woman exclaimed then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I wanted to make a good impression on your guests from so far away. I even asked Ra'maseh to add a little bit more meat to it than usual," the barmaid smiled. "Mag is meeting Shifty, Mudd, and Harmony in the kitchen, but they should be out soon. They've been at it all morning."

Kazimir shrugs his shoulders and puts away the pouch. "I ain't so sure about the other one but Mi-Le probably relies on the generosity of strangers," the words carrying with them appreciation of offering the food despite Betha's own intentions with it. He glances towards the kitchen, speaking in a quieter tone himself as well. "What's the chit-chat about then? Doubt they're using the wee hours getting wasted in there. And uh... mind pouring me an ale while I wait?"

[Rain]

A new post is soon enough pinned onto the bullet-on board of the Soubar. The culprit of the newly pinned parchment a small hin women with snow white hair dressed formally in black attire. A few crest and declarations may be able to be made out if viewed upon the upper right of the part of the black vest of the women.

The first a clear symbol of Ubtao hanging along a golden necklace upon her neck.

A Zentarium crest is pinned upon her black vest above an iron token of from sort that would be indistinguishable to those without much knowledge of chultan society.

The women turns and leaves the area traveling south after leaving the letter on the board.

"Purchasing corpses, no questions asked."

"Prices may vary from 5 bags, to 200 bags depending on the rarity, size, previous disposition, or bundle offered."

"If you have an offer, drop the body off nearby bridge at dusk."

"Don't waste my time with scandals, undead or questions."

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[DM Arrakeen]

Kazimir shrugs his shoulders and puts away the pouch. "I ain't so sure about the other one but Mi-Le probably relies on the generosity of strangers," the words carrying with them appreciation of offering the food despite Betha's own intentions with it. He glances towards the kitchen, speaking in a quieter tone himself as well. "What's the chit-chat about then? Doubt they're using the wee hours getting wasted in there. And uh... mind pouring me an ale while I wait?"

Betha grabbed a stein, cleaned it best she could, and filled it with ale.
"They've been talking about these trade things I don't quite ken. I heard some merchants complaining about war being bad for business, but others say the opposite, so who knows what's true. We sell more ale and broth, so it's been good for us. And I've been tipped well too, so I can't complain," the young lass grinned, but before she could say more, the kitchen door swung open and a sourfaced Mudd marched out of it. Still engrossed in a lively conversation, Harmony and Shifty followed after him. Mag was the last to appear in the door, and when she spotted the priest, she beckoned the man over and retreated into the kitchen.

[Sputnik]

A few Ebon Blade soldiers are seen about the small town, tacking colourful posters up on the message board and in other visible locations.

[Glowfire]

Betha grabbed a stein, cleaned it best she could, and filled it with ale.
"They've been talking about these trade things I don't quite ken. I heard some merchants complaining about war being bad for business, but others say the opposite, so who knows what's true. We sell more ale and broth, so it's been good for us. And I've been tipped well too, so I can't complain," the young lass grinned, but before she could say more, the kitchen door swung open and a sourfaced Mudd marched out of it. Still engrossed in a lively conversation, Harmony and Shifty followed after him. Mag was the last to appear in the door, and when she spotted the priest, she beckoned the man over and retreated into the kitchen.

The priest places a few coppers on the bar for Betha as he reaches for the ale, not saying anything in return to her words as he tries to pick up what Harmony and Shifty are talking about. He gives Mag a nod in greeting as she beckons him. "I'll see you about, Betha," he raises the ale slightly in gratitude and then heads into the kitchen, trying to judge Mag's mood.