[!]

In the absence of the Oaken Quill's Paul Willsheart, his fellow chair member, Amelia Siffon, has been diligently sorting the documents left behind in his office. She stays overnight, and is seldom seen leaving - but when she is, it's in an unnatural hurry.

Paul appears to have distanced himself from the public's eye, with some claiming he'd earned an extended stay in the hospital, for one reason or another. Whatever it is, the right half of his face is permanently covered by a mask, and he generally seems rather sickly. Notably, nobody's heard him utter a single word since the day he's started appearing in town again.

Visage Caelum, the third chair member, remains elusive - though some claim to have seen them in the presence of a strangely doll-like woman, storming away from the encounter and seeming rather sour.

Bobbie:

[ ! ]

Haunting vocalizations could be heard coming from one of the shipwrecks.

At night, the singing seems to reverberate through that part of the beach, echoing from the caves.

Most of the docksmen can’t complain, though; some fishing nets appear heavy with fish each evening.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

[!]

The councilor Ves'zeryn Kyr is seen briefly about town again. Day by day she appears to grow more anemic in appearance, eyes sunken and posture withering, until one evening... She disappears altogether. Notice would be placed in the town hall by her trusted secretary, Vanyel Locharyn, stating that she still lives, though has extended her leave of absence due to health complications.

That leaves one to wonder... What are they feeding these councilors?

[!]
A teenager nudges his friend as they walk down the docks
"Hey there's that tattoo shop I told you about"
"For the last time, we're not getting matching cult tattoos..."
"Oh come on!"

[ ! ]

Rumor spreads from the mouths of town hall clerks that a certain gray-skinned councilor is... Inexplicably shorter?

[ ! ]

There have been a few fires, on the outskirts of town. A tree to the east, and a camp up north on the path have both burned down.

[ ! ]

Come morning, the placard and red banners of the Phonquis Estate appear to have been stripped.

In their place? - Scaffolding. It appears the building is under new ownership.

[ ! ]

Come the morning of the 3rd of Snowmelt, 1641, Éibhlin Terebis has not been seen for several days. The stone that makes up the Spirit of the Fire Dragon's Shrine is cracked and splintered, a feeling of loss within the faithful of the Spirit. Gone. The woman with golden eyes and dragon wings is gone, and the world has been partially set ablaze in response. Burned out embers linger, in memory.

[!]

Since the events of the Fey 'Human Festival', rumblings around town would spread of an odd sight- 

A certain green-haired elf, who had become a  commonplace sighting around town suddenly looked.. Different.

Where once were eyes of gold were now pure-white spheres, almost as if she were fey-touched, somehow.

Surely it would be an easy rumour to verify...

" MAY THE SIREN SERENE
BRING
GLAD TIDINGS TO YOU FOLK! "

A fresh face, hair gray as the fog of the Mistan Isles, 
would step off from one of the small, passing ships to the Spire.
Laden with nets and traps, he seems to have his work cut out for him,
a well-seasoned fisherman.