DM Rumors of Baldur's Gate

[DM Faith]

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ULGOTHS BEARD: HOLY RITUAL

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At the night of the 15th Utkar, a great host was seen marching towards Ulgoths Beard. Knights in shining armor, priests in their ceremonial garbs, mercenaries, elves and druids alike. The Triad had created a triage area, to help those wounded to recover.
Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon, droplets of sanguine complexity rained on them. Selûne's silver light broke through the clouds, illuminating the corrupted village below.
For a day and a night, the priests prayed, while blades and magic protected them. First animals, corrupted and twisted, rushed into the lands. Then, the manifestations of evil became stronger, calling forth reanimated corpses. Some corpses even came from the Flaming Fist, which was defending the village from the outside, giving all to give the priests the chance to complete their rituals. Not all priests were successful, as their defense was overwhelmed near the end of the ritual, such as the group at the smithy, the entrance of the village and the last anchor.
As the tortured land howled, the Abyss answered. Demons once more poured into the destroyed village through portals, opened from the Abyss side. Witnesses told of a star falling from the skies, which had circled them before in erratic patterns, now fighting between them, clashing with the fiendish forces. The very buildings themselves rose, animated by malign will, striking against the people.
At the end of the ritual, as dust settled, there was only silence.

The wounded Fist made their way back to Baldurs Gate, to request reinforcements to guard the village till it was fully cleansed. As the dukes were notified of the successful ritual, they began to prepare a reward ceremony.

One thing was certain. No one who had witnessed this would ever forget the darkness, which wormed in their memories.

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scenery shots courtesy of missclick

I am most likely going for the 7th December, 18:00 GMT+1, before I disappear for this year!

[DM Limerence]

Source = Adobe Stock

CONTENT WARNING:

Hidden: show

Please note that the below contains mention of suicide in the final paragraph.

The Feast of the Moon

(and a Flaming Fist Tragedy)

As the colder days set in, the Feast of the Moon marks an important day for the varied peoples of the Forgotten Realms - but especially humans, Stout Folk, and Small Folk - who celebrate their ancestors and honor the dead. Tales of heroic individuals, boisterous personalities, and divisive but nonetheless remarkable talents are repeated in company, sang in verse, and contemplated in silence.

Amongst the present faiths of Baldur’s Gate, the Tempurans hold their most important ceremony of the year, converting the arena in the Wide into ceremonial grounds. Like each day, they sing the Song of the Sword at highsun (Feast of Heroes) and sunset (Song for the Fallen), and for the Feast of the Moon their singing is much grander, serving to valiantly honor the dead. Alongside their song, they speak of great tales of battles fought bravely, as worshipers spill drops of their own blood in preparation for conflict to come, and they bless new weapons in the memory of warriors of olde. The arena hosts a large gathering of resident and visiting Illuskans. The Northmen's intoxicating reverence for the Lord of Battles extends well into the night, gradually shifting from solemn honor to gregarious revelry as drink is increasingly imbibed. Many non-Northerners are swept up in their excessive, barbaric mirth and displays of physical prowess, which disperses from the arena into the taverns of the city. The City Watch members unfortunate to be on duty this eve find themselves obliged to intervene in the rowdiness in some instances, although some taverns enjoy record patronage.

The few Kelemvorites of the city are far more sombre in telling the Deeds of the Dead. In this ceremony - clumsy as it is nascent, but earnest nonetheless - they emphasise the importance of remembrance and of seeking wisdom from the past. Other faiths of the shrines and temples tend to their usual rituals and duties, while taking the time to honor the many important figures of their brethren (the Saints of the Broken God; the Just of the Maimed God, the innovators of the Wonderbringer, the most athletic and inspirational of the Morninglord, and so on). And there are many other private cultural and religious rituals that take place behind closed doors, including some of a darker nature (such as a few ever loyal Bhaalists who celebrate and tell tales of impressive slayings, such as of Uthaedeol the Blood-drenched).

While the city is focused upon remembrance, tragedy strikes late at night in the Seatower District. A man clad in Flaming Fist regalia hurls himself from off the top of the Flaming Fist compound, and is found dead. Although quiet, enough passersby - Fist and otherwise - witness this, and the Fist cordon off the area with support from nearby City Watch guards. By the next morn, rumor of a Flaming Fist falling to his death circulate. Perhaps he simply slipped? Or was he pushed? The rumors disagreed. But others insisted that nay, he certainly intended to fall. What would compel a man to do such a thing? Who was this man?

An ominous start to the winter season.