Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

After a few turnings, numerous inquiries and and informational leads attained from his own stall has led Yarko to this particular merchant in the Dark Weavings Bazaar. If his information is correct, Grom is one of the few in the city that has contact with the mystic of stone called Olofalcon. After exchanging a few Svirfneblin pleasantries, Yarko makes his desire known that he would like to meet with Olofalcon to discuss the Svirfneblin presence within Sshamath.

Within the bustling streets of Sshamath, a suspicious group of Svirfneblin have been multiplying as of late, making their presence known simply by the way they carry themselves. Confident, seasoned and uniformly geared, these Svirfneblin seem capable and quite possibly dangerous..

Who are these strangers? Are they allies of Sshamath, or are they trouble? ...Only time will tell...

A host of Zhentilar has begun to move through the Underdark. As it prepares to set out from a camp north of the Gauth Grottoes, the Zhentarim confer with drow locals.

*Somewhere deep below the surface, several Kanahraun Drows might report of missing Guards, Warriors, and Occultist. The only thing that could be found, were spilled blood. Oddly there were no bodies to be found. Nor was the Reanimated dwarves numbers missing nor the Iron and Bone Golems, they seem to even be unscathed. A precision attack maybe? Or a message? *

As there seem to be fewer Kanahruan Warrios in the ruins of Oghrann or its Great Halls, word is spreading throughout Sshamath that its never been easier to earn a bit of coin there.

Some graffiti has been painted on some of the smoother rock faces in the wilderness.

We are the fist in the face of Lolth.

In a secluded side passage near the outpost of Undrek Vallanar, a heavily scarred half-drow could be seen lying beside a small mirror, with one of her arms draped around the mirror's frame. Over the hours that follow, the mirror continues to display an image of a scarred, brown-haired human woman probably somewhere in her fifties as she goes about her daily life. A gaunt and sickly peasant with a wide scar along the side of her face, she nonetheless bears a certain resemblance to the young girl who was scrying on her.

Although the halfbreed shows signs of having cried recently, she seems oddly at ease - even happy - as she sleeps in front of the mirror...

The 9th Cycle of the 7th Turning - Progression 4231

If you were to pass through Mist Lake, undoubtedly you would have overheard the various vendors discussing a well equipped and large group which gathered themselves and headed towards the myconid circles. The merchant Velnolu likely would have recited a discussion the party had surrounding spells, undead, and illithids.

"LOLTH TLU MALLA" she screams out in frustration. The anticipation of whole sale slaughter of heretics ... leading to the disappointment of finding few remaining to oppose her.