(!)
Word spreads that Iselle of the Southern Free Charter, residence of (other_11) and Council Envoy is seeking out a person of Black and Red armor to give them her thanks for protecting her, and to talk about their recent encounter! A letter can be left at the Charter Hall in the flower Valley, at her home or with the clerks at the Town Hall. They are also welcome to find her at her home!
The Undercity is alive and kicking it seems… emphasis on kicking.
[!]
Those who venture to the waterways would find a Greatling man’s body mangled by animal bites washed up near the docks.
If one goes asking around, people claim not to know him, nor admit that there’s a body.
Its soon gone without fanfare or trace.
»»———- 🂡 ———-««
To Me,
My Mutants!
»»———- 🂡 ———-««
Rumors spread like a fungus, echoing off the walls of the Undercity and reaching the ears above.
A brutal beating had taken place, leaving many injured, some, perhaps, even dead.
Any that ventured into the remains of the Circus below would find it stained black with blood and violence; but within the carnage, something else lingered...
Hope.
A 'cure', of sorts, proven at last. A chance for the Mutants to take their lives back.
And so it begins.
Le Dernier Pari.
The Last Gamble.
OOC:
[!] Feathers Fall in the Night... 
Left in quietude following his brother's expedition Northward, a Tomcat lingers upon the rooftop of Casa De Marchesi. Petting the fur of a scrappy little kitten, the Ranger finds himself settling into the quiet embrace of nightfall...
One moment, Kitty Grandine is seen perched high upon the rooftops: the next, in an array of blackened feathers, he vanishes. Gone in a flash, there's nobody left at the home to hear the shouts of protest that grow quickly-dimmer...
Kitty Grandine is Missing.
OOC:
[!] To Go Out on a Limb...
On a late rainy night, the hospital is assaulted. Glass shattered, spells flew, scream after blow was exchanged as several figures broke in to find their quarry.
Only two stood to defend the place of healing, and by the end of it, they can barely remain on their feet.
The morgue is empty. The limbs are gone. The cabinets were left open.
Mary, despite their best efforts, was ripped from her graveblossom, killed, and taken as yet another corpse.
A lone woman stood in the shattered greenhouse as rain filtered through, covered in blackened blood. She gently swept off the shards, the uprooted plants, the soil from overturned plant beds, and the diluted pools of blood. Wordless.
She had failed.
But there was only time to reflect on it.
OOC:
What goes Bump in the Night... 
Booted footsteps clamor down throughout the Undercity... An audience of black crows line the winding passageways as bright-lit goggles pierce a burning light through the passageways underground. A looming figure carries a body limp within his arms, stitch marks and sutures ooze and pop with blackened energy. This is not the march of an undertaker... Its the call towards a sermon.
At his beck and call the limping form of a green-goggled woman, her form hunched and laugh heard echoing manic through the halls: lanterns would shatter as the group drives forth, the flames roaring to life with the heat of a forge as a blonde man rambles raves behind them both. The metal footsteps of constructs carry blue-lit lanterns that shimmer with a glare of light like the passing of nightfall.
"The Eclipsing is Upon Us, may She be our First Miracle"
The beginning of no more ends
A single verdant stalk crawls its way up the leg of the notice board.
Upon reaching its summit, it blooms in an instant.
A radiant sunflower.
Following a 3-day expedition to the lands of the Walljacks, Caleb Citranitas, Finwick and Coronis return from an extended absence... Alongside them: three missing figures return to the Spire. Kalith, Icarus and Azuran Mal'arn.
A successful rescue operation has come to fruition... In distant lands - smokestacks rise from the burning cinders of the Experiment Grounds of Locke and Keye's Base...
[!] In The Rising Chorus of Cheers, An Ember Crackles...
It would be in the following days from his recovery that the man would depart for the Amafells to assist the efforts in rescuing the Star Seeker... A busy time for the Jester. Each footstep weighted with purpose. The jingling of armor and bells never seems to cease... When does he ever rest? As the Town Criers shout out tall tales of his achievements... He quietly secludes himself in his off-hours to drink and smoke alone. The ember blazes, unceasing. With the militia gone.... Someone has to be prepared to fight for the Spire.
[!]
Late at night, a loud reverberating clashing of metal could be heard echoing within the forests east of the spire. Sounding like an intense battle taking place until suddenly, /quiet/, intense quiet befalls the forest.
Nobody saw who or what caused it, but if any went to check the next morning. They would see a large pile of blood staining the grass in a ritualistic manner.
[!]
[OOC: This is able to be investigated but only towards those part of my vampire event line.]]
[!] The Dead Rise in the split of Day and Night...
Cackling rings out from the depths of the Undercity... Following the events of the fight for the Undercity, mutants and men alike can be found weeping in the shadows, voices ringing hollow... There'd be a clattering of hand-held bells, they reach out from below and trail up to above. Censers swing and smoke trails past.
"He hath risen the long-dead, he hath risen the long-dead!"
They've made it to the belfry, a loud ringing casts by, a mutant from above casts his head up to the sky and wails:
"He hath RISEN the long-dead! He hath RISEN the long-dead!"
Crows would perch amidst the rooftops and crevices in the upper and lower spire alike. A green glow of eyes could be seen crawling amidst the stalagmites and howling out a cry like a manticore's laughter.
"Let the world know, let the masses hear: Franklin Keye hath risen the long-dead!"
A storm splits the sky that night, the crows cast off in all sorts of directions... By the time the sun rises, the frenzy has dispersed, and yet the message rings clear... A feat unheard of outside of the work of Patrons and Fables... and yet.... There's walking proof now, isn't there? Such a special little girl...
OOC:
Following Ghostling, Ropefish and Eema's event yesterday, here is our follow-up! REMEMBER: Klara as a PC is a minor and should be treated with the delicate nature all young PCs should be addressed with. I encourage the masses to not approach the Klara PC with talk of Locke & Keye unless discussed with Ghostling first. This was an agreed-upon narrative by all parties involved, that Keye would be taking credit for the rebirth of Klara - but as there are potential delicate topics at play remember that player and narrative consent is our most important and powerful tool.
