EFU:R Gossip, Major Events, and Rumors (IC Knowledge)

[Ironside]

::[Kythorn 23rd : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

The squabbling of the Order and the Council came to a head today after the Mayor himself announced an impromptu public meeting of the powers-that-be. Members of the Council looked on with smug satisfaction as the oft-maligned Agent Zurello was humbled by Mayor Bresley himself. In a bid to startle his political opponents, the Agent revealed that Councilor Tasmir yr' Aqath el-Bakran was the driving force behind the late actions of the Covenant. The Mayor's response was to exonerate the Councilor of all wrongdoing, and place the responsibility (and blame) for the damage of Spellguard materials firmly upon the Order's shoulders.

This proclamation marks a new era in Sanctuary. With the Order and its many properties now fully divorced from the government, it would appear the Spellguard must now play by the Council's rules. The Agent seemed to take his dish of crow in stride, but many onlookers detected a hint of disdain in the magician's voice as he brought to motion a plea...

The Order wished to beg the Council's permission to declare war.

What followed were some hours of bickering. Councilor's Fadl, Beaufort, Ludstrom, and Tasmir debated the merits of a war with the mysterious and powerful Stewards of the Ark. Those sympathetic to the Order claim that the seizure of the Ark would re-vitalize the rapidly deteriorating resources of the Spellguard. Their detractors objected both on moral grounds, and perhaps also to deny the politically troublesome Order its former power.
  Speakers from the Covenant of the Pure, and the Housing Vaults both vied for sway in the assembly, while onlookers jeered or listened intently. A verbal spat betwixt Malark Amblecrown and Ser Idraen Markem unveiled the boiling tensions between the former Squire and his Knight. A drow - a drow! saw fit to take the floor!
 
In the end, the Mayor silenced the chaotic assembly, and announced that the Council would meet once more in a week's time to settle this matter of war.

Later in the eve, a battalion of Warders were seen slipping away into the Underdark... carrying with them a peculiar mechanism.

[Kinslayer988]

::[ Kythorn 25th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

A strange dark, rife with bloodshed, murder, and execution. The councilor al-Rahman executed a drow from the Lower squallor and the renowned Drakebreaker Arthur Black was beaten dead and left in sewage. It is said that for the wrongful execution, the infamous D'lathos of the Lower Fortress kidnapped the Councilor and held him hostage. It is said that it was only because of the rage (or heroics) of a wereboar among the Covenant that the councilor was able to escape. After a trade of blows, the Watch celebrated, sending one of their number for promotion.

One by one the news passed across the city. From within his sealed room, it is said that the Lieutenant Troff died of old age. Immediately after, it is said that the watchers emerged again led by a joyous Lieutenant Pond and newly promoted Sergeant Graham alongside councilors. Loyalists cheer with Pond's new orders. Patriotic enforcement, crimson cloaks for all, and a number of fresh experimental power being sent to the Watchhouse. News is yet to be heard however, from the Warders sent deep away into the Underdark.

[Ironside]

::[ Flamerule 1st : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

In the dark a cruel cold iron casket churns. In the dark a beating heart of thoughtless mechanism and cold logic pumps the life's blood of the earth down artificial capillaries. An illusory kettle flickers to life somewhere, and whistles to a boil, and an officious looking man sips at fresh tea with a smile. It was about time, he muses.

In the dark, savage drums thrum the ancient songs of war. In the dark, prowling proud primitives pick through the gloom. They grit their teeth against the coming storm. They warm their stomachs with the promise of vengeance. They have watched the blood trickle away. Now, they will watch it flow.

Men of piston and gear. Men of flesh and bone. They sleep tonight, and dream of tomorrow's wars.

[Ironside]

::[ Eleasis 1st : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

Warders sweep bloody spores from the streets of the city.  Watchers bicker one to another, flashing notched blades and pelts of savage folk.  They are twinned in the Mycopolis, where cruel fighting men spin Watcher's helms upon spears and flick badges and medals along the lakeshore like stones.  Seers of the auld way, with mistletoe sprigs in their hair, foretell dark shadows looming  - they speak words of power and anoint their brutal kin in sacred oils.  Agents wielding complex machine-abacuses calculate the risks of the battle to come, greasing the iron joints of their war machines, processing the bloody mathematics of War.

A cunning warrior tears a blessed axe of polished bone through a panther's neck in a single strike.

A smirking Agent looks on as a stainless steel blade bisects a target precisely along the projected line.

The savage and the civilized prepare for their final decisive battle with predatory, murderous excitement...

And beneath it all, something monstrous and dark stirs.  One evil eye snaps open, and turns its baleful lens to mind the bloodshed.

[Ironside]

::[ Eleasis 2nd : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

An ear-splitting shriek shattered the silence of the 'dark this eve, as one of the many horrors that haunt the world was finally felled.  At the hands of a party of adventurers led by the stalwart Radvul Stragat, and with the aid of the New Path, the Dread's greatest lingering experiment has breathed its last.  The Grotto fills with a hundred cheers and songs of celebration are sung in the Vaults. 

As the survivors are toasted, so too are the fallen remembered, each martyrs name bearing a new reverent title - Arlin the Wolfsbane, Incarjeras the Mad, Alethia the Wise, and Evron the Kind - among others, trampled beyond recognition, have given their lives to see a terrible foe vanquished.   Pilgrims of the Journey smirk smugly to one another, and share morsels of the gargantuan spider's flesh in dark, celebratory communion.  It tastes of salt, of the deep earth, but most of all it smacks of VICTORY.

[Kinslayer988]

::[Eleasis 2nd : Year 165 : 1387 DR] ::

It began with a call from Agent Dimes to the populace. The battle of Mycopolis had come, and Spellguard assets from across Sanctuary gathered to the gates. Watchers, Warders, Engineers, the Sons of Senuspur, Councilor Ingram, and a number of supporting citizens awaited their commands. On the advent of a tremendous wind, Commander Miller himself, alongside Animator Dhimani and Chief Ratapakt gave a sendoff, with speech of a new era and the retrieval of the mysterious 'Ark'. The forces marching with a large animatron dubbed the 'Exterminator Mark V".

Across the lake in Mycopolis, the Elders of the Stewards gathered. One among them known as Elder Vestri held a sparkling device in her hand, and with a magnificent light, the rest of the elders are sucked in. Rumors of a hibernation within the Ark. Vestri spoke close words with one of the remaining Stewards before departing upon a raft into the lake.

Agent Dimes' assault marches from Sanctuary to the ancient shroomstalk, decimating loose packs of tribals and elementals in their way. The large exterminator behind them crashing impossibly large stalks with a great saw and flame. Amidst the razing, a warship departs upon the lake with blades slicing angry ooze and strange creatures in the water. At its mast standing the impressive Lieutenant Pond, hands at his sides bellowing with laughter. Time would be short until a the warship caught up with the tiny raft. Even shorter would cannons fire with a flash, decimating the raft within seconds.

Before the Lieutenant could grab his vial of azurran victory, the waters crashed into gargantuan tides as the Beast of the Lake rose with Elder Vestri leaning from its maw. She called down a storm of poison, plague, and insects upon the ship. Its men sick, diseased, and reeling from bites of incredible size. Unable to fight back, the beast wrapped its slippery body around the ship and began to pull it down into the waters. The Lieutenant cursing his men and the gods as he and an unfortunate watcher jumped ship. Crunch, crunch, crunch as the beasts body wrapped around the ship and broke it apart. When only driftwood made it to the surface did Vestri and the beast leave to isles unknown.

The sight of the wreckage did not bring fear into the ground forces as Agent Dimes and the Dhimani Exterminator approached Mycopolis. Horrible green spores leeching onto the men as they entered deeper into the new land of Malan'qa the Ancient. The forces met with explosive ferocity, the sparks lighting fire upon the stalk-land. The titanic elder myconid released a number of catastrophic spells. Dangerous gasses subdued troops as vines and tribals ripped them apart. When victory was in sight for the protecting tribals, the Exterminator burst from the cavern walls and began to lay waste upon the surviving forces. To stop it was a single man.

"I will not yield!"

The man known as Gaesaeric among Sanctuary had reappeared after years of absence, only to be overwhelmed by the last of the army and the power of the Exterminator Mark V. The sight of the warrior wrapped in chains forced the last of Mycopolis into surrender. The troops cheered as Agent Dimes, Councilor Ingram, and Animator Dhimani stood over the rubble. An angry Lieutenant Pond emerging from the waters to curse his missed chance to mount shapechangers upon his wall. The Animator remained as the rest of Spellguard forces returned with wild treasures and a number of prisoners including the Unyielding Gaesaeric.

Druids and hunters who try to return to Mycopolis after the battle find a territory changed by technology and civilization. A number of Spellguard personnel remain to guide this harvesting operation, naming this acquired land 'Dhimani Ranch'.

[Kinslayer988]

::[Eleasis 9th : Year 165 : 1387 DR] ::

It began a few darks earlier with the return of a hunter. "Something is out there! Something is hunting beasts!". A group of citizens led by the Pride-Hunter Radvul Stragat and Councilor Orrell set out into the dark. Among the litter of beasts and prey the hunters found numerous creatures covered in an assortment of alternations and implants. The changed beasts however posed no danger to the experienced men and women. Yet with each den traveled to the aberrancy remained. Something has changed the wildlife of the underdark. Some citizens believe it to be the Spellguard's fault, a result of the Battle of Mycopolis that ended the Stewards of the land.  Others claim that this is the wayward work of the Exiles and the Society of the Ordered Mind. A failure to keep their experiments within their vaults. Vocal of the returning party was Councilor Orrell, and his claim of the Dread's influence.

This dark the 'infection' as many citizens have began to call it, has entered Starag's Rest. Commoners sighted a queer lizard in their stock. An egg-layng broodmother who had long been a staple of the men's production had turned a sickly white and created an ichor from its skin. The commoners begged for it to be removed, and the Watchers available complied. On Councilor Orrell's arrival to the scene however, he ordered that all of the stock be slain. Although the Councilor paid reparations to the men, the commoners who split the plot remain angry. Lizard-jerky is nowhere to be seen across Sanctuary.

The sight of the infection within Sanctuary has created paranoia among owners of foodstock. It is said that Mouldercrest paid over 20,000 coin for the protection of his beetle ranch, and raised the price of all of his wares. Merchants in Sanctuary have followed his precedent, food has began to rise in price among Sanctuary. The rich and wealthy hail the idea of new overpriced delicacies while the tentdwellers assemble new starving comrades in their protests. The poor have set out across the dark to hunt prey pure and unclean, selling the rich meat to established merchants, and the unclean meat to mysterious alleymen who have began to concoct disgusting recipes.

[Vlaid]

::[ Eleasis 10th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::


A long simmering dispute between Baron Ormulax and Magnatz the Red over control of trade in the region and their standing with Sanctuary appears to once more be boiling up as quarrelsome ambassadors arrived at the House of Governance to meet with the Council of Sanctuary. A tense meeting held in the public space of the House was met with bated breathe of onlookers. The two Ambassadors bitterly argued over cargo, trade agreements and attacks on shipments, the details of which are hotly debated and vary from the telling of one man to the next.

The Council is said to have handled the Ambassadors coolly but that tensions appeared on the rise. An emergency meeting was quickly called between leaders of Sanctuary, the results of which has not yet been made public. Wagging tongues within the House of Governance speak of a turbulent time to come for Sanctuary and that an announcement should soon be forthcoming.

[AKMatt]

::[ Eleasis 10th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::



Rumors abound of a pack of bloodthirsty elves cutting down "impudent monkeys" in Freedom Square.  Ordinary humanfolk are quite upset ... at least the kinds given to believe such rumors.  Others say that they support their pointy-eared neighbors, who are certainly much better than the kind of filth that this band has been cleaning up.  For a time, blood stains the space between the House of Knowledge and the Grotto.  Some folk don't like the Spellguard trying to interfere with the Council.  Others dislike a Council reaching for increased power to enforce its will when so many owe their lives to the Spellguard's rescue portals.

[Kinslayer988]

::[ Eleasis 10th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ] ::

In better time of a year, the people of Sanctuary are excited for the Great Game. Once a symbol of division between the Red Guild and Black Guild, the new game was open to the public with a number of handpicked candidates by Councilor Orrell.

The games came to a head with star players such as Radvul Stragat the Pride-Hunter, Clerk Lahanis Drusandyr, and Watcher Arnold Christianson from the populace. Alongside them many familiar faces from the city's many powers. The audience held their breath in the final grips of the game. When a great boom shook Sanctuary.

The boom eminated from the House of Trade. Watchers, Exiles, and Councilors trickled in to wretched smoke. To their surprise they found Jack Bundy, self-proclaimed Mayor of Sewertown and his companion with armfuls of coin. Behind them the ruins of the Sanctuary Bank Vault. The crowd pounced upon them as Covenant allies poured in from the shadows. It would be the feared drow D'lathos who would bring what was left of the rebel down to Lower with the coin.

Before the chaos could die down another explosion shook Sanctuary. This time eminating from the Workmill. The Councilors believed it to be another sabotage of the Covenant until the voice of a duergar rang off with a screech.


::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Fort Mur Saboteur: Salutations from his benevolent Orbulence, inferiors. We hope you enjoy your goods exploded, charred and melting. Enjoy hammering your junk together by hand. The Baron never forgets and NEVER forgives insult given. ]::
::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Fort Mur Saboteur: The Baron will be expecting representives from your city hovel soon, come prepared with gifts crawling on your belly like the worms you are. We give thanks to the Covenant ooze guzzlers for providing the distraction necessary. ]::

Admist burning bodies and the screams of workers, the sabotuers escaped Sanctuary. Leaving the Workmill a terrible disaster.

In the end of such events the voice of a familiar figure battered against the council:

::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by The Man in the Mask : Exciting times, Sanctuary. Blood still fresh on the pavestones here, men and women butchered in the streets. The slaver`s mill, destroyed... ]::
::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by The Man in the Mask : [A bitter laugh] Ohoh, but don`t fear. The Great Games will recommence in an orderly, and timely manner. We wouldn`t want you waking up, now would we? ]::
::[ City Sending by Oliver Orrell : If anyone wants to listen to a man who has yet to reveal himself publically, nor the balls to show himself in the raid that the Covenant just committed, by all means, go ahead! ]::
::[ City Sending by Oliver Orrell : Listen to a man that has yet to really burden the responsibility of running this city, a man that has cowered in piss and filth for years on end, speaking, but never really doing anything. A man of no action. A real proper coward. ]::
::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by The Man in the Mask : From one mask to another, Councilor, let`s be cordial now. Calandra`s pen scratches frantic ruts in a desk, time`s running out. ]::
::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by The Man in the Mask : How long until they clue in, Councilor? That fetchling of the fey has the wrong eye color, my friend. Did you think no one would notice? ]::

Time shortly passes.

A clerk returns from Lower with a sizable sum of stolen coin admist rumors of an arisen Jack Bundy. When the Council returned to deposite the coin, the vaults of the Sanctuary Bank were cleared. To greet them an angry mob of merchants.

"Sanctuary can't protect our coin!", "It is high-time to retire for paradise", "Aye, our funds are safer in Final Sanctuary". Under the nose of the Council the bank and its resources moved to Final Sanctuary with approval of the bank's owner, Roald Goald. Though the Council debates the decision made, Lord Hyram Sinclair has claimed that the bank notes coming from the Gould estate will more than cover the losses.

The people ponder of the terror such darks have become. Who holds the power to defend Sanctuary's interest? Will the taint of meats be temporary? Can the Council prevent war between the forces surrounding it? The people continue to ponder...

//A pastebin of shouts and sendings as this was a very long rumor: https://pastebin.com/2qhAsqRz

[Kinslayer988]

::[Eleasis 22nd: Year 165: 1387 DR]::


Though time has passed since the destruction of the Workmill and Bank, the topic and what it represents has remained firm in the people's minds. With the aid of the self-proclaimed Mayor Bundy and coin from the Robbed Sanctuary Bank the tent-dwellers have turned from ramshackle malcontents to an armed and dangerous militia. They have began to commit various crimes throughout the alleys and are becoming a nuisance of merchants and councilors alike. In response to this the merchant conglomerate of the Gould Estate has worked to open a number of new businesses in Final Sanctuary such as the much beloved Bank of Final Sanctuary.


In this era of open dislike for the Council, no figure has become more controversial than Councilor Oliver Orrell. A doting pretty boy turned idealist, the Councilor became known for letting free a variety of small criminal actions and hosting a number of dazzling events to keep the mind of the citizens positive. Yet after the destruction of the Bank, he began to change. His judgement becoming more cruel, his actions turning from that of hope instilling positivism to violent dedication to his position. Rumors of murder, maiming, theft, and bribery have began to surround his name alongside his two bodyguards. Said to be mercenaries from the port, they have become an iconic attachment to the Councilor and the recent violence of his career. His actions have come to a head, as a group of tricky citizens and watchers managed to catch a wounded Mayor Bundy. In the midst of his final words, a dart pierced his neck, slaying him between words. it is said he grabbed the participating watchers and brought them to Lower Sanctuary for torture. Only one returned, a maimed and bloodied warder.


When a simple decree was to be made regarding decisions of the Mayor and his Council, the chaos proved too much for the young Mayor. With his shrill voice he made his first decrees. The surface campaign is in stale-mate. Only with the aid of special citizen driven campaigns will there be progress. The aberrant meats would be culled from Sanctuary, and become contraband. When he prepared his next decree his voice was shrill and weak to a despicable crowd. Amidst bickering of Spellguard enforcers, tentdwellers, and angry citizens out to catch the murdering Councilor Orrell, small William Bresley rose from his seat and began to throw tantrum. Shouting his decrees with nasty childish retorts against the soft chiding of his secretary. In his fit raising a bounty upon Fort Mur for the destruction of the Workmill offering whoever can defeat Baron Ormulax the Sword of Sanctuary. As he continued on a phrase ringed upon the crowd, "Sanctuary has never been the city it was founded to be". While the Secretary claims that this is a mere overreaction, the people know clearly what the Mayor's will is.


At last he turned to Councilor Orrell with burning eyes, and demanded trial for his various crimes. In reaction the tentdwellers began to heckle and toss fruit at the men of the Spellguard, saying that it can't be murder if its justice. Despite the Secretary's command the men continue to rile the crowd. At last it would come to violence. The Hooded Civil Servants began to brandish their terrible quills, sending the men to sleep before they were overwhelmed by a barrage of weaponry from rebellious citizens. The Secretary whisked herself and the Mayor from the House of Governance For a time, the maddened Councilor Orrell held his own trial with the defeated Watchers.


Before more executions could take place, a lone Lord Hyram Sinclair pulled over the Councilor's bodyguard and Deputy Gaspar Catrell, revealing his position as student to the Lord, and that the councilor be stripped of his rank. A trial would take place the coming dark, and Sinclair has claimed whoever could prove the Councilor guilty with key information, will be given a sizable reward.

[SanTelmo]

::[ Eleint 9th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

During the recent few darks, many interesting rumors have begun to circle among the Sanctuary populace:

----

It is said that couple weeks ago, many drow pirate ships with their crews gathered on a hidden cove for a traditional 'celebration' of some sort. The exact nature of this event called "The Bath of Blood" have been clouded to most non-drow denizens of the Underdark in the past years, however surprisingly this time they left an open invitation for any remaining free denizens of the Underdark to partake in the event.

And so, many interested parties from Sanctuary and elsewhere made their way to the hidden cove on a mercenary ship and witnessed this bloody celebration. As the event commenced, it became clear that the Bath of Blood was not merely a test to show one's mettle on the arena but more a place to clear hostilities born between the various pirate crews. Later on a few sancturians were also drawn to the bloody arena to answer challenges issued by the drow and visitors alike.

Curiously, some speak how the legendary Master Tau Masemba was spotted there, silently watching the battles but not challenging anyone and none daring to challenge him. Although he explained little reasons to why he had left Sanctuary so abruptly, visitors made note how he was not wearing the colors of the Society of Ordered Mind but instead was armed in the full battle regalia of his late brotherhood the Stygian Armada.

----

The shores on this side of the Dark Lake have been quite quiet during the recent times. Only some ships going to Fort Mur can be occassionally seen passing the Blue Mushroom and heading to the Baron's Fort, loaded with all sort of supplies required for war. The trade seems to have significantly reduced because of the continuing hostilities between the Red Giant and the Beholder Baron. The stagnant state of matters is affecting everyone connected to the Low Road, especially Sanctuary who barely has enough gold in coffers to keep up with the raising prices.

With massive amounts of new refugees coming through the surface rescue portals as per the Boy Mayor's decree, Sanctuary is slowly falling into desperate times. When rothe meat is no longer officially tolerated by the city because of contamination risk, some fear that there may soon be ahead times of excessive food rationing. Indeed, many different groups cry out for a spokesman to represent them and their needs, and it is publicly known that the Secretary is looking for new faces to fill the Council so the city can be steered through these coming darks with proper leaders.

As if this wasn't enough, many citizens speak in hushed tone how their nightly nightmares have become even more dreadful and frequent. It is not uncommon to hear wild screams and manic sleep-walking in the inns and homes around Sanctuary but especially in the crowded slums of the Public Housing Vault and Lower where the most unfortunate souls dwell. Some beggars and madmen even tell stories of people dying in their sleep or disappearing during the night but none really takes them seriously.

The only good news lately in Sanctuary seems to be that the three major factions: The Watchers and Warders, the Exiles and the Covenant have not been involved in brash quarrels. Also the multitude of tent-dwellers have neither been raising any wild riots since the trial of the late Councilman Orrell. Most gossipers bet though that it won't take a big spark before it gets bloody on the streets again.

----

A recent discussion topic among adventurers seems to be the mysterious portal to the arena that once again appeared on the Crossroads. Many thrill-seekers and fortune hunters entered the portal and fought dangerous monsters on the planar arena for a chance to earn a prize - or die trying. Although there were many victors on the arena, a couple battles are talked widely even after the event.

Firstly, in a grand free for all brawl, an elven of the Exiles proved victorious and won a special key that supposedly belonged to the Imaskari, an ancient race that commoners don't know much about. Everyone seems to agree though that whatever the key opens must be worth a lot.

Secondly, a group effort made by the same elven exile, a knight of the new path and a priest of the Red Knight. It is said that they fought for an ancient artefact of Imaskari make, a dreadful weapon capable of leveling whole towns or maybe even cities. It seemed to have been depleted of its powers but if one were able to charge it up... who knows, it could become a powerful weapon in the right hands or nightmarish threat in the wrong ones.

----

Among the scoundrels of Sanctuary, a rumor whispers how one shady figure has been offering to kill anyone in Sanctuary the for the price of 100 000 coins.

It is not quite clear why the assassin, who some say is a drow, desires to take the life of someone specifically from Sanctuary but it is claimed he is the same one Mad Marge Miggsley was going to hire to take down Director Gould.

Whatever the case, all those who swear to have seen him personally speak of him with a trembling voice and none seems to doubt his ability to deliver the contract.

----

Of very recent interest is a group of ten or so people who arrived on the gates during a silent dark in Sanctuary. They seemed to have been sharing the same set of colors and arms, likely belonging to a unified group of some kind.

What their agenda is none yet knows but odd is that all of them arrived through the main gate rather than through the surface rescue portals - and none has seen any of these new faces in Sanctuary or anywhere else in the Underdark before now.

[Kinslayer988]

::[Eleint 10th : Year 165 : 1387 DR]::

The untended sirens of Sanctuary spring to life accompanied by the drone metallics of the Spellguard broadcasting system: "Unidentified entities detected across Sanctuary, procede indoors immediately or face imminent danger!"

What followed was a shrouding of Sanctuary from broken bottles of shades. From within the sound of whips, cries, screams, and bloodshed echoed through Sanctuary. When the darkness faded the people of Sanctuary found many of their friends and kin missing, and the corpses of Sorrowfeast slavers scattered across the city. The living slavers held gargantuan sacks with an abundance of citizens, new slaves that would feed the hatred of the Ogre Trade Princes.  The people of Sanctuary scattered across the dark to find their people, and were led on a trail to the Mound of Magnatz.

Slaves, ogres, and gnolls blocked the people of Sanctuary as the voice of the Blood Giant emanated from one of his many golems. The people of Sanctuary had forgotten their debts to the Bloodmage, and it was time to collect. For refusing to aid the Mound in the war against the Beholder Baron Ormulax, they would be forcefully conscripted and forced to either toil the mines of the Mound, serve as soldiers, or as reagents in the foul giants rituals. Of the crowd, only one man did oppose, challenging the giant's creations for the freedom of the slaves. The man was beaten and the will of the Mound made clear. Sanctuary must slay the Baron Ormulax or their people would continue to become slaves of the Mound.

New debates come to Sanctuary. A one-sided trade agreement with Ormulax, sacrificing trade for a suitable peace with the beholder. Appeasing the Mound with slaves to end the Baron once and for all. Some claim that Sanctuary will defeat them both, much to the chagrin of the less hopeful.

[Howlando]

::[ Eleint 20th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

An extraordinary series of sendings:

::[ City Sending by A Woman With Sad Eyes : I know a tale of a young girl, who on a sunny morning met her true love in a library, near the section of Esoteric Netherese.... much hardship and many years now divide them, but their hearts still seek each other.....and.... and  that`s all. ]::

::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Zyphaem Faussad : [in a voice thick with indescribable emotion]... and I know a tale of a man, trapped, who who dreams of his love still. My dear, if you have not already, depart this place of danger and find a place of absolute security. Word will come when I can think of what to do. ]::

Shortly after this was a scene of fighting in the Grotto as two Spellguard Operatives, one masked and experimental, descended presumably to abduct Isebel Faussad. And yet... according to rumor... the hafting Statues (known for her set of ambulatory magical luggage) succeeded in escaping.

::[ Spellguard Broadcast : Mrs Faussad, do not be afraid. We have prepared excellent quarters for you here, safe in final Sanctuary. We wish to help you and your husband. We are not your enemy. Do not believe the lies of adventuring rabble. Come to us and everything can be explained. ]::

::[ Spellguard Broadcast : This is an announcement from the Reformed Order of the Spellguard. The halfling known as "Statues" has abducted a person of interest, one Isebel Faussad..... it is imperative, for the safety of all concerned, that she be returned immediately.  ]::

::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Zyphaem Faussad : There is little reason to keep to my silence now. Spellguard, harm a single hair upon the head of my wife.... and I will find a way to get my revenge. You will leave us alone! ]::

::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Zyphaem Faussad : People of Sanctuary... long have I been... trapped here, listening to your sendings, but daring not to ever make one of my own. I understand... many have been seeking me. I have learned much, where I am, although dare not speak too much. ]::

::[ Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Zyphaem Faussad : I ask that you protect my wife, Isebel, wherever she may be, and with whatever friends she may have. I beg of it. And... I will say more when I can. ]::

::[ Spellguard Broadcast : The Reformed Order of the Spellguard only wish to help. [a pause] We offer ten thousand sovereigns for the safe return of Isebel Faussad, abducted by the halfling Statues. That is all. ]::

[Howlando]

::[ Eleint 22nd : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

::[ City Sending by Council Courier : On behalf of Secretary Thervion, and under the authority of our beloved Mayor, let it be known that the halfling known as `Statues` and the woman `Isebel Faussad` are under no threat of exile, and any attempt to disrupt the peace of our Sanctuary shall be met with most harshly... ]::

::[ City Sending by Council Courier : .... both are free to do as they please, and shall be considered as under the protection of the Mayor himself, and any overly-enthusiastic supporters of the supposed `Reformed Order` of the Spellguard who attempt to breach the peace of Sanctuary shall be dealt with most harshly. ]::