Rumors & Events of Soubar

[-Comedian-]

The Comedian makes a generous offer, inviting skilled performers to join his new play.

[Etran]

A young Ilmatari monk moves to Soubar.

Despite the presence of the Banite church, the young man walks among the tents offering healing and comfort to those seeking it.

He would continue offering aid to the people regardless of their race and beliefs, or until stopped by the local authority.

((EDIT:))

The young monk would write a message for the local board.

[Cinnamon]

Rae, known as Cinnamon, had met with a curious Older Gentleman, and deliberated her story openly to the Man, few travellers were seen coming through the way, though notably Aaron did pass but did not stop by.

Rae sent a sending to someone else, reports claim it was to someone known as "The Guide", and nothing more.

She left the Boarskyr Bridge, reportedly as a Cat, and went elsewhere.

[Leramak]

A heated discussion took place within Soubar Between House Blackrose's Matriarch and its Lord Regent. Whatever was discussed the Lord Regent walked away in frustration the matter being settled.

[abousalif]

Blake came to Soubar carrying a drow body dressed in red and wearing a mask. The body is burned , bloodied and mutilated, but his face should be identifiable

He called to his men of the Blackrose to Inform ser Thistle that the drow has been apprehended and couldn't be brought in alive.

[selhan]

*Deep below the wells of Soubar, a fierce battle had taken place , a man and a gnome followed rumors of wealth only to be ambushed by a very formidable foe. The battle seemed endless, how it ended will only be known by the pair.*

[kitteninablender]

The Mad Mage of Machinery, Salim, was seen entering the Black Abbey of Bane for unknown reasons. He would remain there, in quiet contemplation, for several hours. Not saying a word to anyone.

What is the Mad Mage planning? What are his intentions? Why is this rumor written in Comic Sans?

Who knows?

[kitteninablender]

The mad Mage of Machinery has taken up a sort of "Residency" in the temple of Bane. And, in fact, has even been seen recently in the vicinity of Darkhold. Letters have popped up, sent via messengers, or even spread by the Archmage himself, being that he is capable of vast teleportation as a specialist Conjurer.

To the people of Baldur's Gate and its environs.

I am no longer with the House of Spades. The reason for this is because my actions lately have been very rash. But my actions have been rash for good reason.

Because, to put it bluntly...your actions are not rash ENOUGH.

You all sit upon your hands, your tongues tied in dances of pompousness and false smiles rather than taking action.

You all care more about your IMAGE than the lives of the innocent people who suffer every day at the hands of Polvich, Orcus, and the Demons and undead that they command.

The Flaming Fist don't care. They care more about enforcing their rules than they care about saving lives. This was evident when they beat me once for daring to summon an ANGEL to heal one of them after he fell over after an Undead attack.

This action by the Flaming Fist proved to me two things: Their own incompetence and stupidity, as well as the incompetence and stupidity of the Government that commands them. A Government that uses them not as officers of the law: But brutes used to ensure compliance.

It taught me that if no good deed shall go unpunished then the only means by which to avoid punishment, unfortunately, is to do no good deeds.

This is why I have remained silent. Complacent. Doing nothing. Laughing as the entire coast goes to Hell in a handbasket. Simply enjoying the ride.

But to be blunt: This ride sucks. And I'm starting to get nauseous of it.

So what I have posted, below, is my signed confession. Here goes:

I, Salim EL-Faddir, have willingly and knowing performed numerous acts of summoning Demons, Devils, and even the act of creating Undead...

...for the purpose of discovering new means, and creating new weapons and ordinance...

....designed for the sole purpose of destroying demons. Devils. And undead!!!"

There. I said it. Yeah. Salim...summons undead and demons and devils.

But for a reason: You have to know how to hurt something in order to build WEAPONS to fight them. I needed Laboratory Rats...

Laboratory Rats that nobody would care if I tortured. Like the very monsters who's sole purpose...was to torture us...

So I did. Again. And again. And again. Summoned them. Destroyed them. Tortured them. Again. AGAIN AGAIN!!

I learned so many secrets. Gained so much sweet, juicy, FORBIDDEN knowledge. The most important kind of knowledge one needs when it comes to Demons, Devils, and Undead:

...Not only how to destroy them...

But how to MAKE THEM AFRAID!!

..and how to KEEP. THEM. DEAD!!!"

I would apologize. But it would not be sincere.

I will not apologize...for doing the dirty deeds that the people of light are too scared to do themselves.

The things that people aren't willing to do...because they do not wish to get their hands filthy.

The thing people like the most about me: I tell it like it is. With no filter.

The thing that people hate the most about me: I tell it. Like. It is. With no filter.

Hate me. I care not.

Fear me: Good. Even better.

Call me a monster: Fantastic. Ask any bard. There's no such thing as bad publicity...

Do I become more like a Devil the more Devils I destroy? Perhaps.

But consider this:

...I am, at least, the devil that you know.

And at least THIS Devil is doing something that nobody else on the coast is doing:

Whatever it takes...

---- Salim El-Faddir. FORMER Head Engineer of the House of Spades.

[Tazzers]

Bounty flyers would go up with the Likeness of Dral Winterward posted over the old ones

A bounty is in effect for the secure capture of Dral Winterward delivered to the Cells of Fort Prominence
Unarmed and unarmored with no bags or other holdings.

Anyone to deliver him to the cells will be given Five hundred bags of gold.

Hanner Blackrose

[Sabamonster]

House Blackrose Letter of Intent

This letter is to inform all interested parties both public and private; that the bounty pertaining to one; Dral Winterward is not on behalf of, nor sanctioned by House Blackrose. Any official bounties, requests, missives or correspondence related to any and all official business will be accompanied by the official house seal. Furthermore, any bounties listed by persons within House Blackrose without house approval provide the contractual and agreed upon price out of their personal holdings. House Blackrose is not and will not be held responsible for transactions made without proper authorization or an officially signed and sealed contract.




Signed, Inquisitor Sabyn Jayce of House Blackrose

**On the bottom of this page is a clearly stamped official seal of House Blackrose**

[Sabamonster]

A fading light flickered against the glossy pane of a second story window of Castle Thorn. Scintillating hues of color danced against scattered glass bottles settled on a wooden desk that rested below the sill. Periodically, and to a cadence that had seemingly meticulous accuracy, a cloaked figure paced by the threshold, just as it had done the last few nights. Whiskey glass in hand.

The inquisitors mind was racing. It continued barraging him with truths he had no choice but to accept. This had been the case the past few nights and would likely be the case for the foreseeable future. It wasn't often he faltered in the face of a challenge and he couldn't remember the last time his own thoughts had gotten the better of him. "What will you do?" he asked himself. Whether it was actually -to- himself or simply barked into the unrelentingly cold stone room he found himself in he couldn't tell, by this time the liquor had long taken hold and he was beginning to appreciate the dulling of his senses. "What -can- I do?" This time the question leaped off his tongue like embers from a fire. It happened so quickly he was affronted by his own question, or at the very least his inability to answer it. Having only one response he hurriedly polished off his glass. At least this he could control. The warm kiss the whiskey left on his parched lips was enough to appease the sensation he had to hit something, at least momentarily. With a tight chest, a deep controlled breath and wipe of his lips he sat in the wooden chair positioned near the fire.

"After Tonight." He said to himself, knowing that whatever came next would either be the most convenient lie he had ever told himself or another gut-wrenching addition to the list of nightmare inducing realities he was being forced to swallow. "I resign to the fact I can't control any of this." Silently he pleaded with himself, he knew he couldn't continue like this. He had to conduct business, he had to return to the fold, and to do that he needed poise. The characteristically stoic military-bearing he was accustom to. With a sigh of defeat and the heavy fog that blanketed him by the good graces of expensive whiskey, he leaned back prompting the elaborately adorned wooden chair to moan in protest. Craning his neck partially over his shoulder he swiveled in his seat to get a better view of the window.

With a long, fixated and distant stare he sat motionless, a series of clearly defined thoughts crashing into him like waves against a shore.

A simple rolled parchment.

A lone figure standing in seemingly unending darkness.

A brilliant flash of light and the familiar streets of Soubar.

and then... just this room.

And all the misery that came with it.

[Tazzers]

Wagon loads of supplies and men would enter Soubar late into the night many of the men would return to the Ebon Blade keep others taking up watch along the walls. The redhaired man among them would be seen speaking to several of the Millita along with the Blades, Several tents would be set up around the fighting pit Blackrose Soilder's, Ebonblades, and a handful of Zhentarim Soldiers would take up residence in them for the night all of them Hagered and Battle worn Wagons full of wounded would be sent back to the Blackrose Keep.

Hanner would go around the town speaking to every person or nonperson he saw asking them all to gather in the commerce area some would pay him no mind considering him another drunken fool, other's followed diligently. giving them a moment to settle he would climb the gallows and await their attention.

"The bridge fort will not hold another attack our forces are weary, we have fallen our forces back to Soubar. Any of you who are afraid have a right to be, should the fight come to our walls I ask you all to make your way east to Fort Prominence. You will all be safe there Human's and Illithid's alike. Those who wish to fight come to seek me out tomorrow. Get a good night's sleep tonight it might be the last we have in awhile."

He would climb down the stairs of the gallows, walking his way straight to Mags tavern to have a talk.

[abousalif]

A Message is left on the billboard:


Call to arms:



As you probably all know, the Yuanti are working with The Prince of the Undead. There have been several attacks on the Boerskyr bridge. Balors and many undead have been a pain and have cost the life of many of troops devoted to defend the area.


We cannot continue to only wait for them to attack. We have to join forces and strike them before they raise another army. They will not stop At Soubar, they are a threat to all of the region.

Time is for the offensive. We will accept any that will fight against this common enemy. Join us at Fort Prominence and we will defeat this threat together.

Blake Hightower, Knight of House Blackrose.

[Ashenie]

Lately, a hooded woman have been seen tending the dead and the injured in silence with herbs and bandages in Soubar. Soldiers have been carefully healed, and compassionate prayer whispered. The woman in old rags beared the symbol of Ilmater on a cracked locket.

[Tazzers]

Wanted For live Capture one Dral Winterward.

For the Crime of Murder.

Reward
One Million Gold Pieces


Delivery may be made to the Gallows of Roaring Shore.

Once the Dwarf is hung and the last kick's of life leave his feet
Payment will be delivered.
This bounty shall stand until he is brought to justice or the name of his accomplice is made public

~Hanner Leonson~

A masked man would be seen at the town message board driving a dagger into the center of the note before heading straight for the trade way, a sack of supplies over his shoulder halter of his horse in the other hand.