Wiki Category: News & Rumors

The weather across Mardrun has been fair over the last several weeks and the people of Mardrun have been making ample use of the long days. While fields still need tending, the bulk of the planting season has passed and it’s still some months til harvest season. The month of June brings about a time of relative leisure for many citizens and the local taverns, alehouses, and meadhalls make immediate use of this. All across the continent outdoor biergartens and seating areas spring up next to drinking establishments, easily enticing passersby to stop in for a pint, a curious summer mixed-drink, or just to pass the time with friends and gossip.

*

Many tell the story of a young Syndar woman who’d wandered into the foothills north of Starkhaven. Know one knows why she left her home or where she was going. Her mysterious disappearance has shaken her friends and family who immediately put together a small search party to head to the hills to find her. They asked around to gather any information they could and eventually found a member of the Layorder Militia who told them that he’d seen a person matching her description around the time that they claim she went missing. He tells the story that he saw her walking out of the eastern gate and turning north toward the foothills around midnight. He tried calling out to her to ask where she was going that time of night, but she seemed unable to hear him, fixated on her destination. “I assumed it was some kinda Syndar moon thing, I dunno,” he told the worried party, “But either way she walked her way right up into the hills. 

The party set off immediately up into the hills and luckily were able to pick up the trail of their missing. They followed the trail for hours and eventually crested a hill and found her standing in the middle of a clearing below. They called out to her but she didn’t respond; she simply stood still, holding a purple flower clasped over her heart and an empty smile on her face. One of her friends took a step toward her and immediately she vanished into the mana stream leaving behind nothing but a cascade of purple flower petals. The search party returned to Starkhaven, crestfallen and with more questions than answers.

*

Some people in a roadside tavern between Keys Crossing and The City of Newhope have begun spreading tales of a strange occurrence. Some days ago the people of the tavern were awoken in the early morning hours to an eardrum shattering blast on the road in front of the building. People fled outside to gawk at the source of the explosion, but saw nothing more than a black-haired Syndar running about frantically, cursing and worrying, and picking up shattered bits and bobs while a human clad in a green tunic tried desperately to assure her that everything will be okay and that things can be replaced. The pair looked up and saw that they had drawn a crowd and quickly gathered what they could onto their travois and took off on the road toward Keys Crossing without acknowledging their audience.

*

A sickness has gripped the people of a small Stormjarl village near their border with Aylin’s Reach. People report incredible fatigue and stomach pains. Some have been seen vomiting blood. No one can be certain of the cause of this disease, but luckily it hasn’t seemed to spread beyond the village. A few travelers visiting the area also fell ill, but grew better after they left the area. Only one family has managed to avoid the rapidly onsetting plague though no one can tell why. They have mingled with the rest of the village, but not contracted the illness. Some are beginning to accuse the healthy family of dark magics and claim that they have placed a curse upon the town for some unknown slight. Hopefully someone will step in and get to the bottom of the situation before it ends in bloodshed.

*

The Council of Newhope has been meeting regularly over the last couple months. Such activity is to be expected after the proclamation from the Ulven leadership. What takes this from a mundane news report to a load of hot gossip that spreads over the continent is one small detail. It seems that Arragones and her stewards have been formally barred from these meetings. No one can be certain whether or not this is a calculated move that Arragones is also a party too and simply a series of political maneuvering; or a serious sign that things may be shaking up for The Council.

It does appear, at least outwardly, that the latter is the case. Small whispers have drifted out of the Libraries of Celestial Arragones that tell of her increasingly erratic behaviors and apparent genuine upset at the current turn of events. 

*

Reports start surfacing from people in coastal settlements and those living along larger waterways about small longships passing their homes with increasing regularity. These ships have been seen flying various flags, none of which are recognized as Clan flags and none of which match any Packs local to the area. While these ships haven’t made any large moves that anyone is aware of, there are still reports trickling in of some of them harassing people as they pass them on the rivers, often shouting insults and hurling refuse. The speculation is that these boats may be related to the recent raids, but others say that they could just as easily be drunken sailors blowing off steam, but then why would they be sailing the routes in the first place? Regardless of the origins of these unidentified aquatic objects, the people of the coastal and riverfront settlements are growing anxious.

Warmth descends over Mardrun and the planting season begins in earnest. The fields fill with local and migrant labor forces and the mixing of people allows for the ease of travel for news and rumors. During the day laborers exchange stories from their corners of Mardrun and in the evening those same rumors are shared with traveling merchants in the taverns and meadhalls that pepper the continent. As is often the case a few stories end up being shared more than others.

People tell stories of a violent raid on the village of Brattsholt. It seems that no one really knows what caused this raid, but the story circulates like wildfire. Many people denounce what they call senseless violence, but there are still those, mostly younger Ulven, who talk about these raids as if they were a return to traditional Ulven raiding culture. Some of these young upstarts even seem to be eyeing up the idea of joining these clanless raiders themselves. It seems the tenuous peace between the peoples of Mardrun coupled with the relative security of the Shield of Mardrun is placing a yoke on the rowdy nature of some Ulven and as the seasons pass some may be looking for ways to shed that burden.


In the meadhalls of Clan Goldenfield a bizarre story seems to have taken root. Over ale and liquors people drunkenly tell the story of a young man named Thackery Crowsbane. Thackery earned his name by profession as many do. As an inexperienced young man with not much in the way of marketable skills he was hired, at first by joke, to act as a scarecrow in a large barley field. Soon, however, the farmers found that Thackery proved to be an actual asset. Armed with nothing but a large stick, Thackery took well to his position. He would charge across the field and wallop any crows he caught and each night he ate well of stewed crow and ramps he foraged in the nearby woods. The crows, though numerous, were no match for the lightning quick rod of Thackery Crowsbane. 

One evening as Thackery was gathering ramps for his stew he heard a strained scream from over the hills. He armed himself with his stick and charged ahead to find the source of the sound. When he crested the hill he saw, in the darkening twilight, a small man dragging what appeared to be a blonde woman by a rope around her neck. Thackery set upon the man immediately and began to beat him with his mighty stick while shouting at the man to let her go. The man sputtered and cursed and screamed that she was his property. Thackery steeled his resolve and continued to batter the man until he dropped his rope and tore off and away over the hills.

Thackery took a deep breath and turned to introduce himself to his damsel in distress, but he was not prepared for what he saw. The damsel was in fact not a woman at all, but a tightly shorn sheep, its lips coloured with red stain and its face partially obscured by a braided blonde wig. Thackery shuddered at the sight and untied the rope from the animal’s neck. He watched his damsel trot off into the night and immediately went to town to drink and forget what he’d experienced. Unfortunately for himself his drinking loosened his tongue and before long all had heard the story of Thackery Crowsbane, Rescuer of Damsels.

Rumors continue to spread that some unknown group in the colonial lands have developed a new technique to create objects imbued with magical properties. At this time no one can be certain how true these rumors are, but that hasn’t stopped them from being spread with fervor. At this time it seems people are more interested in sharing the rumor rather than getting to the bottom of it.

The snow thaws as spring begins to wrap Mardrun in its warm embrace. As people begin to mill about and trade routes begin again the well of news and rumors bursts free and spreads gossip over the continent.

Rumors swirl of another brutal raid on a small colonist farmstead, this time along the Yurnai River south of Daven’s Hold. Again there was no trace left by the raiders that could give any idea of their identity, but their violence was extreme. No one escaped the slaughter and much like the last raid, several people were left with their heads on pikes. Some people question the legitimacy of these claims and instead tell stories of people trying to whip up some sort of panic to take eyes off the alleged lies of Celestial Arragones. 

A rumor has been making the rounds through the tavern circuit that seems far too fantastical to be true. Someone claims to have been privy to a secret research group that found a way to construct new, powerful magic items for the first time since the skill was lost during the fall of the Syndar Kingdoms of Faedrun. Before long drunken lips are spilling this ‘secret’ all over Mardrun. The majority of people toss aside the notion as nothing more than alcohol-fueled delirium, but enough people believe it to carry the rumor on to their next watering hole and soon the buzz has swept over Mardrun.

Tales sweep in from the taverns and ale houses of the City State of Newhope of another couple murders. This murder seems to have happened in the deep of winter, however the bodies are being found now due to the thaw allowing travel between settlements and the smell eminating from the households. The first house belonged to a small family of five that were found arranged in odd grotesque positions. The second was similar to the first, but instead there was a message left in the flesh of the family of three, “Blood flows faster, yet none answer. Will you listen?” 

With trails opening up many stories swap with the previously snow locked northern territories. One such tale is that of an animal of abnormal size. A merchant caravan from Ironmound speaks of seeing a bear that came out of hibernation that was the size of a fully loaded wagon and probably could have swatted them like flies. They knew that the creature was watching them for some time before they saw it, due to that feeling a person gets on the back of their neck as if something is just behind them. They only saw the beast by sheer luck as they rushed through the pass to a break in the tree line. According to one of the caravan guards the creature was running full tilt towards the caravan, and they were only able to avoid being eaten alive due thanks to the oxen pulling their cart tearing down the trail as though The Great Wolf himself were nipping at their heals. So if you travel through the Pass of the Great Wolf Hackles, beware of a massive bear that could do more than just make off with your food stores.

Word tears across Mardrun of a troubling development along the borders of Newhope territories. A small colonist village was ransacked in a brutal and deadly raid. Not a single inhabitant survived the assault and some of them were even left with their heads on pikes. It wasn’t until a traveling merchant came to the area days later that anyone even knew of their fate.Taverns and alehalls throughout the whole continent are abuzz with worried whispers and fervent debates. Some claim that it must have been the work of bandits, but others think that it was clearly an Ulven attack as some sort of a reprisal for the rumors of the crimes of the Ancient Syndar. Regardless of the perpetrators, the colonists along the border find themselves on edge and sleeping with one eye open. It is yet to be seen if Newhope proper will mount any kind of a military operation along their borders.

The tales of an Ulven hunter who barely survived being lost in a blizzard make their way through the tavern circuit. The stories say that a Nightriver hunter went out to hunt deer on the southside of The Great Forest. She was gone for many days, during which a brutal snowstorm blanketed the land in deep snow. Her packmates began to come to terms with the thought that she may never return, but one day she did. She limped into the village on a broken and splinted leg and after resting told a story of losing her way in the storm and hearing the heavy breathing and dull roar of a beast in the woods. She ran, but while blinded by the storm, tripped over a tree root and fell down an embankment, breaking her ankle. Still hearing the rumble of the beast she pulled herself into the hollow of a large tree and huddled herself together. She continued to hear the beast’s heavy breath and solid footsteps around her tree, but she could not bring herself to look outside. She shivered through the night, but didn’t dare to light a fire. When the morning came and the storm passed she splinted her ankle and made the slow journey home with no quarry, but the story of an event she’ll never forget.

Some months back the Ulven Clans of Mardrun put forth a joint effort to supply a party of Steinjottun Fleetfoot scouts and Spiritclaw Truthseekers to be sent into the heart of The Dirge to verify the rumors that have been circulating about the origins of The Mordok and the lies of Arragones. Though no official statements have been made by any of the Ulven Clans it does appear that some loose lips have given rise to even more rumors that the Ulven scouting party has returned. Many of these rumors also claim that the scouts have verified everything contained in the scandalous letter that has been circulating with claims that Arragones has been lying to cover up the sins of her ancestors. Though some choose to wait for official confirmation by Clanleadership, others have already begun to spread these rumors as fact.

The harvests around the continent are well underway. The fields of grain, late season vegetables, and hunting parties are hard at work to prepare for the long winter ahead. However, there are other events happening throughout the lands.

The largest commotion by far is that of multiple Clan Leaders and High Priestesses of Gaia putting in a request for scouts from Clan Steinjottun’s famous Pack Fleetfoot to head into the heart of the Dirge to verify the rumors that have been spreading about the Ancient Syndar and the origins of the Mordok. With Pack Fleetfoot being the best trackers and hunters on the continent, as well as possible volunteer’s from each clan to help protect them, the truth of what happened all those eons ago will be verified.

To the south in Clan Nightriver along the coastline stories of a different kind drift in. Gossip tells of an until recently forgotten glade. The tale goes that a group of merchants were wanting to cut some time off their travel and took an old logging road. After three days’ travel the merchants came across a large glade with a few houses on stilts around the edge. While staying in one of the houses for the night, two caravan guards spoke of what followed while drinking by the fire.
That during the night when the moon reached its height, the wind began to pick up for no reason. In the wind came voices, voices from beyond the veil. They said to run, run away far from there, before she arrives. As the guard started to think they had too much to drink a scream came from a neary shed, as they looked at the window in the firelight they saw blood spray onto it. Soon a high pitch cackle came from another nearby house, followed by more screams and sobs. They woke the merchant, dragged them to their wagons, the goats nearly mad with fright, and fled into the darkness. They warn to stay away from the location, for it is quite likely haunted.

In the Citystate of Newhope has been struck again by the Mass Murderer that has been plaguing them for the past year. This time the victim was at a hunting lodge where Sir Gordon Lanley the 3rd, a retired Knight of Vandergon who’d served during The Fall, was found butchered in the usual fashion along with his family where they were staying. No sign of forced entry was found and all the doors but the front were unlocked. The sight is rather gruesome, the only reason they found the bodies so quickly was due to a burning Vandergonian Regiment flag outside on a staff.

In happier news for the rest of the continent, festivals begin to spring up all around the land. The joy brought from such a bountiful harvest this past year could be felt through every clan and colonist town as town centers flare to life with lantern light, torches, and the sounds of laughter. Sales of salted pork, smoked fish, candied apples, winter goods flood every festival, along with their own unique games. In Clan Axehound there are wrestling contests, in Clan Goldenfield pumpkin growing contests take place for the largest gourd, in the Citystate events of ghost stories and hard cider drinking contests take place at every small hamlet to even the largest colony.

The leaves begin to change and the heat of summer begins to ebb and wane with the coming of autumn. Mardrun begins to hurry and start the early fall harvests for the bountiful year.

After the discoveries found in the center of the Dirge Swamp, the Celestial Arragoness immediately started to send out flyers and representatives to try and convince the populace of the ‘truth’ of what happened. While the results of these efforts seem to have some success in the City State of Newhope’s lands, the Ulven have had a more adverse reaction. Clan Grimward has closed its borders to all colonists due to the issue, other clans like Clan Spiritclaw are repulsed by the response and are looking into the matter with their Daughters of Gaia and their Truthseekers. 

Word comes down from Clan Steinjottun of a large hunt that took place among the crags and granite outcroppings. The hunt took some of the best of hunters and trackers from each pack and lasted fifteen days to finally corner the gang of elk that had foolishly wandered out of The Great Forest. In the early morning mist the hunters struck and were able to fall a decent number of them before the rest of the gang escaped. When the hunting troop returned, one of the hunters carried a pelt that was jet black, and antlers looked to have been made of obsidian, with enough meat between all the hunters to feed the packs for the fall. 

In Aylin’s Reach, news of a troubadour making a new sensational ballad for the royal court has spread to the masses. Those who have had the pleasure to meet this extravagant bard employed by the court speak of their impeccable word play, extraordinary charm, and immaculate skill with a lute and viol. Rumor among the staff of some of the noble estates speak of some of the noble daughters sneaking off in the night to go meet with this bard of extraordinary skill. 

Rumors come down from Clan Spiritclaw that all their available Truthseekers and researchers are out in full force. From what those could eavesdrop on and guess at, it seems the Truthseekers are busy trying to locate multiple Lorespeaker caches for some reason or another. While the true reason for this now frantic search is unknown to many, but those who have had to deal with the Truthseekers lately do mention a steely determination and are more prickly than usual.

Tales start to flow from some of the seedier parts of towns and settlements of something evil growing in the Great Wolf Hackles. A group of ‘reformed’ bandits were heard talking in Silver’s Crossing about something foul. The story that was told was that of finding a small valley filled with hot springs and plenty of game. However, while they slept there, odd dreams plagued them. Dreams of a bloody massacre, bloodlust, and deep primal craving for more. The band woke up to an unearthly howl that chilled their very marrow. They mentioned it being two days travel to the north of Davin’s Reach, just follow the old logging trail as long as it goes and then continue straight over three hills, but they followed up with a warning; Though they know not all will believe them, they are clear that whatever lived or lives there will haunt them till the end of their days.

The heat of summer beats down on Mardrun, however life thrives on the continent with crops growing well and the lives of the people who live there having more than just the recent summer festival to gossip about.

While bandits were once plaguing the Riverhead Lands, they now instead pester the surrounding areas, such as the Great Wolf Hackles, and Clans Nightriver and Goldenfield. While the majority of the bandits went south, the resistance from the Goldenriver Alliance has definitely slowed their progress and any hopes of planting a firm foothold in the area.

Hot gossip starts to fill the streets of the colony of Davin’s Reach as a couple of noted Knights drew steel and began to duel in the streets. It seems that a Knight from New Aldoria insulted a Knight of Davin’s Reach patron whom they carried their favor. The duel lasted for a solid fifteen minutes before the guards could pull them apart. No blood was spilled but many felt a call back to the days in Vandergon and the days when Knights went questing to prove their prowess and honor. 

News spreads down from a group of loggers from Clan Axehound of finding an ancient oak grove in the Great Forest. As they went to swing the first axe, they said it felt as if the woods stirred and went silent as the grave. When the group tried one more time, the noise of wind and insects vanished once more, this time accompanied with an eerie creek from the tree in front of them. The group left and came back with a Daughter of Gaia from the nearby village and found it to be an ancient ritual site of the Ulven. As for what it was used for and what is contained, they can only begin to wonder. 

The summer is in full swing, the land is covered in not only greenery, but vibrant whites, yellows, purples, and many more colours as flowers take over land. Life can be seen all around and with it the hustle and bustle of the populations of Mardrun.

To the north with Pack Riverhead, many people speak of what was an overwhelming force of arms sweeping through their ancestral home. Forces from Pack Riverhead, Clan Shattered Spear, Clan Ironmound, as well as assistance from a few smaller groups pressed through the lands with purpose. There were few encounters that turned to outright combat, but those that did occur ended with reports of severe losses on the bandits side. With this success, many are wondering how Pack Riverhead plans to hold all the re-acquired land. Some feel Clan Shattered Spear will use the opportunity to spread out more and build. Others are unsure if that is even possible. Whatever the outcome, many are curious to see what will happen next in the heart of Mardrun.

The highways of the Clan Goldenfield and Clan Nightriver are seeing a rise in bandit activity this month. Leadership within both clans believe this is due to Pack Riverheads reclaiming its ancestral territories. Clan Nightriver is already working on keeping the tides of these bandits held back, by whatever means seem fit. Clan Goldenfield is having less luck with the bandit incursions into their lands, however many people seem to be of the mindset that Clan Nightriver may send some martial aid to assist their long standing ally.

With the expedition to the north to find the ghost ship finally completed and the crew returned, rumors fly around the port and quickly spread inland of a fantastical adventure. Tales speak of gem encrusted treasure and chests of Vandregonian silver that were scavenged from the depths of the ship. Another tale tells of being lost at sea in a blanket of fog while being attacked by sea serpents. There was even a tale of a group of unknown monsters in the outlands that sounded otherworldly and hunted them throughout the nights. Tales aside, the venture seemed to be fruitful and provide some information as to the origin of the mysterious ship from Faedrun and many are waiting for the news to become public.

To the East in Aylin’s Reach, there was a large and seemingly spontaneous festival. Many within the colony drank, enjoyed games of various challenges, watched or participated in performance duels in the streets. Throughout the days and into the nights the sounds of bards singing and performing at almost every corner in the city delighted most of the citizens. While Prince Aylin didn’t appear, many of his court did socialize and enjoy some of the festivities themselves. A small group of lesser nobles even found themselves getting in on a song with a bard troupe at a street corner. While the festival ended, many were glad to enjoy the break from the tedium and let loose to enjoy life without much worry for at least a few days, though they never really found out why the festival was called in the first place. Taverns throughout the city were soon filled with rumors that Aylin must be planning something big soon. Some seem to believe he’s gearing up to finally take the Aldorian Crown.

The brown of winter is now becoming a fragmented memory of the past as green begins to dominate the landscape of Mardrun. From tree, shrubs, and the now planted crops the world moves forward.

Reports from some river fishers from Clan Nightriver have some individuals questioning if there is another unknown type of creature on Mardrun. Sightings of a large hairy being off in the distance have been on the rise, as well as signs of its passing through the area. Among this evidence is large misshapen footprints, clumps of fur at odd heights, and simple tools scattered in nearby wooded areas. Some hunters have taken to try and capture the creature, however none have shown definitive proof or have yet to capture this elusive being. One hunter returns with a sketch he had put together based on what he claims to have seen, but is rebuked by skeptics that he meets and mocked by all for his blurry linework.

In Clan Goldenfield a mystery was solved that has bothered a local hamlet for some time. There were rumors of unusual spiritual activity around an abandoned old farm and its surrounding land. A small group of helpful teenagers decided to help get to the bottom of the disturbances, wanting to help put the spirit to rest. The tale goes that at first it was as if they were being watched, and then heard the rattling of chains and ghastly wails around them. Eventually they ran into a supposed wraith or specter that gave them chase throughout the property. After some sleuthing around the farm estate and buildings on the land, they eventually were able to set a trap and capture the ghoul. It turned out to be a local farmer who was trying to drive down the price of land by faking a haunting on the estate. It is thanks to this group of four teenagers and their faithful hound that they were able to help the small hamlet’s faux phantom. 

A flower festival goes into bloom in Davin’s Hold towards the end of the month. Common folk celebrate those who are better off at the coming of spring and the growth that will come in the coming year. The Council of Three make a speech of their plans to expand the ever growing settlement and add more housing, lumber mills, and even a possible quarry for stone based on some initial scouting missions. With the news of new work becoming available, along with news that the forces of Vandregon are growing and even accepting squires for those who swear loyalty to Davin’s Hold, the people celebrate long and joyfully as merchants come and go throughout the last weekend of the month. On the final day as the festivities begin to settle, many feel their purses heavier or lighter in one way or another as deals are made between those who play the game. The people of the settlement feel a strong sense of pride. A pride that comes from knowing that while they started with very little, they have gained so much by working together to make their little corner of Mardrun that much better.

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.