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Winter’s cold grasp on the land has loosened, and with it the cold rains of spring herald in the season. Green starts to blossom, and the cycle of life begins once more.

Cleric’s of the Richtcrag deity Sylv become busy as spring comes in full force, traveling from village to hamlet to village again blessing the fields to come. While there are few in number, many of those who remember the old ways back on Faedrun welcome them with open arms. Those that don’t know of the deity quickly learn to accept the blessing anyway, taking whatever help they can for the upcoming year to help protect their crops. Those outside of these practices tend to give the clerics a wide berth, viewing them both as oddities and remnants of a somewhat alien culture.

News travels south from the Shield of Mardrun of an epic battle that will be told around campfires for years to come. The tale of a small novice Feral Syndar mercenary vs. an Alpha Mordok in a ritualistic duel to the death. The tales vary from telling to telling, some claiming the Syndar to have used magic to bewitch the Mordok, some saying that the Syndar was channeling the power of a deity to even hold out as long as he did, others even state that the Syndar was a shapeshifter and turned into an eight foot Ulven warrior of legend and smashed the creature with a mighty club. But one thing remains central to these tall tales, the Syndar never received a single blow, and that the Alpha Mordok was slain by this previously unknown Syndar’s hand.

Tales of strange happenings in the Great Forest reach the ears of the common folk of Mardrun. These tales tell of a section of the wood, deep towards its heart, where the light is barely able to reach through the trees. A group of hunters from Clan Whiteoak were the first to speak this tale, one of hearing the laughter of children, seeing small shadows dart in the corners of their eyes. One of them even stated they felt something bump into them and noticed his waterskin went missing, though the other members of their party claimed they were drunk. They continued to travel through this area, noticing small ruined wooden structures as they went by. When the hunting part got to the other side they heard a voice say “Better hurry before the big bad Huntsman gets you…” That is when they heard the heavy labored breathing and heavy footsteps in that twilight lit place. One of the hunters looked behind and swore to have seen a massive being covered in furs and hides carrying an axe and massive blade with piercing red eyes. The hunters then ran, ran as fast as they could while hearing the thundering footsteps behind them. They eventually made it to a clearing where they heard a bellow and roar as they left, along with the voices of children giggling once more off in the distance. Once home to their village they were resoundly mocked and laughed at by their fellow ulven, though some have taken their story to heart and spread it far and wide.

The cold grasp of winter wanes and the warmer winds of spring slowly blow on to Mardrun. With the winds come the stirring of activity of restlessness after a long cold winter.

Word travels from Clan Stormjarl as boats set off into the bitter cold seas for a month of hard fishing and hunting. However, a rumor of a specific small band of boats led by a Jarl Yisef Stormbrand is what is told in the longhouses and mead halls. The rumor is that the Jarl’s ship, the Crowbane, along with four other vessels sailed south to find rich waters to fish and whale. The members of the crew spread tales of finding a large area filled with kelp and fish almost jumping into the boats. However, after collecting their bounty from this secluded place, nature tried to keep it secret and not allow the sailors and fisherfolk to return to Mardrun. The storms that wracked the fleet were beyond anything the crews have faced. Many of the sailors blame the streaks of white in their hair from the stress of the swells and waves. Lightning was their only source of light for what seemed to be weeks. A rain as cold as ice pelted them and soaked them to their core. But during this entire ordeal, Jarl Stormbrand and his Crowbane led the way, and the crew of the Crowbane say that the Jarl was laughing and thoroughly enjoying the storm to the point that some began to question their leader’s sanity. However, he led them through and got back to the shores of Clan Stormjarl, and with the plentiful bounty they just barely secured on their month-long trek. 

To the north the unaffiliated Pack White Stag begins a ceremonial hunt for a white stag so that a new Pack Leader can be selected. Many potential candidates head into the woods to seek the honor and prestige of being able to lead the noble and ancient pack. However, only one is able to claim the glory of the kill, Celsti Whitestag. With the stag on her shoulder and bow in hand she approached the withering old Pack Leader upon the anther throne. After a brief ceremony the new Pack Leader was announced and a celebration was held at the success of the hunt, and many other hunts too. Members from other packs, including the honorable Pack Longfang, made appearances to pay homage to their neighbor and continued ally in the north.

 To the south in Newhope, terror strikes again as the mass murderer hits another small home out in the countryside. Guards were alerted to the small house due to a horrible smell coming from it due to the warming weather. When looking upon the inside were the butchered and frozen corpses of a family of three, thawing like the rest of the world was. A nearby cleric was able to estimate that they died sometime back at the height of winter. There was no message this time, but the method is still the same as well as the area and location. Many begin to wonder just how many have died like this, undiscovered and left to rot till someone eventually finds them.

On a lighter note, an orphanage has been opened up in Newhope, a project that has been headed by Duchess Mary Tri-cuspis. The orphanage immediately began to welcome young children without homes to help them find families of their own, as well as gain some mild education and pick up some trade skills from nearby trade workers if they are willing to take the government-funded apprenticeship. Many see this a very generous step and a way to help prevent theft and poverty in the citystate as a whole.

The month is bitter cold as it is every year, however activity with the cities and colonies can be easily noticed by many who live there and spread news.

The Political Gala thrown by the Citystate of Newhope is the talk of the town. Tales of fantastic foods, magical dances, gowns worth as much as a four-hundred silver, and possible political scandals flood the streets. Some of the biggest gossip is that Prince Aylin snubbed the higher ups of the gala by attending the commons feast for half of the event, which seemed to have greatly irked Grand Duke Baron Richards. Another juicy rumor is that of political scandal as a noble of the citystate was caught red handed in an affair during the gala. With the noble disgraced, and the onlookers thoroughly entertained, the night wrapped up with deals and secrets created and honored from the elite of the colonies.

Meanwhile to the north along the shield, rumors of another powerful mordok leader circulate among the outposts at the Shield. Many speak of the brutality of the attacks, and the often left mangled bodies left near the outposts in the night. The greener warriors seemed to be completely spooked by the situation while veteran warriors of the shield recognize the psychological attacks for what they are, and even the most hardened feel a cold chill down their spine as the screams echo in the night.

Along the western coast, Clan Grimward’s smaller but well known Pack Fieldcrow have left their home village to gather for an annual ritual to divine the future and fate of the leaders of the clan.   Each elder and runeseer gather in a single tent where incense is burned and herbs are ingested to help connect with the mana stream and to be closer to Gaia. Each Pack Leader and high ranking member that attends is given their fortune, but to be honest not many of the Pack Leaders seem to give this strange ritual much credence. When they leave, they are not allowed to share the info they are given for the wisdom they were granted was for their ears alone. By the time the week-long ritual is over, many of Clan Grimward’s ranking members have received their fortune, for better or for worse.

The frozen air blows through Mardurn and along with it a heavy snowfall that covers the land in a blanket of white. Some celebrate the new year, others wish and dream of warmer days.

Rumor spread from Clan Ironmound that are grim and frightful to hear around the hearth’s of taverns and longhouses across the land. Tales speak again of the abandoned and destroyed mining village of Ambervein. Tales that were once shared of the spiritual unrest in the mines seem to grow as new information flows in from a recent group of scouts who went to see if the land was still usable by the clan. When they entered the ruined village, it is said that the seasoned scouts felt as if they could feel as if something was clawing at the bottoms of their boots. Many thought it to be the loose rubble and ignored it, though a few took a long and scenic route around the outskirts of the village. When they stayed the night, they could hear screams and cries for help from the mine entrance. One of the bravest of them, a scout from Pack Stonefist, entered the mines to prove them craven. They waited till the dawn and finally the scout came back, his flesh clammy and covered in what looked like dozens of scrapes or claw marks. He couldn’t speak, he could barely move, but when he sat next to the fire and saw the shadows, he fled screaming back from where they came. To date no one has been able to get him to speak on what he saw.

Less disturbing by far is the tales of Clan Axehound and what some villages noticed as the days of the Great Wolf’s Hunt came near. The village of Timberpaw took note of a large number of travelers coming through their small and quiet settlement. They would always appear in the morning stay for a few nights, then disappear before the next sunrise. One day the Innkeep decided to follow one of these guests, and to her surprise watched as they lit a single lanturn and headed towards the pitch black trees of the Great Forest. When they got to the edge of the forest though, more lanterns appeared and seemt to gather and go deeper into the wood. One thing is for sure, there is a group in the Great Wolf’s Forest, and they are trying to keep what they are doing a secret.

Strange posters began appearing all across the populous areas of the City State of Newhope. Covered in illustrations of incredible and before unseen creatures these posters act as an advertisement for a new travelling show. “Alexei the Traveller’s World of the Unseen” claims that it will begin it’s travels after the thaw of spring and promises to show creatures and oddities that the people of Mardrun had never before seen. “Save your silver now! You won’t want to miss this once in a lifetime experience!”

From the lands of Aylin’s Reach, there is a tale of a fantastical masquerade ball that Prince Aylin threw to ring in the new year. It seems only the most elite and politically astute were invited to join this soiree for the amount of people that showed was rumored to be no more than forty according to one of the servants of the Prince’s estate. Fine music, Fire Isle wine, fine cheese, and other delicacies were present, and it was said to be one of the Prince’s finest parties in recent years. As the party ended and the lights dimmed in the estate, many outside the estate wondered what it would be like to dress in silk and fine cottons, eat foods fit for royalty, and taste wines of long forgotten lands.

While the snow and cold is mild so far this winter, many are preparing for what the winds may yet bring in the coming months. 

The month for Clan Nightriver and Clan Goldenfield is one of celebration as the joint project between them finally comes to an end, and not a moment too soon. A massive network of well made roads, trails, and a few major highways that interconnect between the two clans has reached completion. While some of the packs of both clans thought this task was perhaps overly ambitious, the results have already begun to speak for themselves. Small villages and hamlets now have easier access to trade routes, merchants can now move faster and more efficiently between desired areas, and are already growing in prosperity because of these roadways. Some other clans have looked at this move and can see the benefits of such infrastructure projects, some more traditionalist groups scoff at the idea of using colonist based improvements. 

In Davin’s Reach a six month long project to give the older areas of the settlement a much needed structural improvement has come to an end. While some families and even businesses had to leave their homes for a while, they came back to well built and structurally sound buildings that no longer leaked and allowed wind through the walls. Many grumbled at first, but after seeing the newly improved buildings with the now improved cobblestone streets they quickly stilled their tongues in awe at both the skill and generosity of the Council of Three of Davin’s Reach.

To the north along the Shield of Mardrun, Clan Shattered Spear finally finishes its work of improving the trails along the Shield. With these new, level, and cleared trails between the outposts, warriors are now able to more quickly respond to any Mordok in the area. Furthermore, the trails to the south and west have been cleared to allow supply caravans to come and go with much greater ease. With this, the western side of The Shield of Mardrun is now even more able and more secure in its defensive positioning. 

Not much further north and west, at the very edge of Clan Shattered Spear territory and barely behind the Shield of Mardrun is a new heavily fortified hillfort and small port built by Duchess Madeline d’Argent. While some Ulven question the decision to move this fortification so close to the swamp, they do see the benefit of having a port being able to bring both supplies and warriors from the south quickly and efficiently. It has been made clear that the port will be jointly run by both Clan Shattered Spear and the City State of Newhope, but the fort will be run by forces directly under the command of Duchess d’Argent, whom will aid the Shield of Mardrun against the Mordok and act as a base of operations for any future ventures into the Dirge.

The land begins to feel the cold fingers winter caress it, and the people hurry to finish stocking their grain stores. 

In the lands of some of the Ulven Clans there are whispers and rumors spreading among the people. The rumor goes that an Ulven is walking around and preaching a new rhetoric surrounding the Ulven afterlife. He spreads stories of death and seeing into the Maw of The Greatwolf. He tells of his initial fear and shock, but then an acceptance. Details seem to get fuzzy from there, but the end of his message seems to be that fear of being swallowed has been used as a way to control the Ulven people for many many generations. He seems to preach personal freedoms and acceptance of the gift of the Great Wolf when we die, regardless of which path it may be. Though many people call him crazy and a heretic, there are a small number who seem to be speaking well of this strange new speaker.

In the City State of Newhope the mass murderer strikes again, this time leaving a small family outside of Silver’s Crossing dead and disfigured. Authorities are working hard day and night to try and locate any clues to who this malicious individual is. Alas, the only clue found were the words painted on the inside of the door, “Such easy prey, their screams were so filled with life.” Many rural citizens of the Citystate are beginning to question just how much effort is being put  into catching this monster. However, the local nobility of the areas of where the attacks have occurred have oddly remained silent, only strengthening those concerns that are now on the lips of commoners. 

Members of Clan Shattered Spear whisper tales around hunting camps of a massive stag that roams the woodlands. It is said to stand as high as a fully grown man at the shoulder, its antlers heavy and bowed with as many as thirty points upon the both of them. One hunter tells a tale that the creature shook the very land beneath his feet as it ran, leaving small craters in the ground where it landed. Oddly enough though, nobody was able to slay this massive stag in order to prove the tale.

Clan Stormjarl is taking up an ancient tradition of hunting whales off the coast in these cold months. Many fisherfolk gathered up harpoons, rope, and warm clothes as they traveled into the deeper parts of the sea. While they were away scoring the grey watery wastes, those back on the shores waited anxiously for them to return. When they did return a week later, they were towing three massive behemoths between the ships. Even the newly joined packs from the Stormborn settlement joined in with this tradition, and with the help of the local packs, were able to haul in three medium sized whales and multiple large deep sea fish as well for the upcoming winter. Needless to say, many fisherfolk earned their salt and showed their skill to the clan those days, and even some of the newer packs felt a bit more welcomed than before.