Nerdocalypse:

[!]

Kyrus has set out to sea, back into the mists that had just spat him out. The Sands on the Wind, his trusty ship, steered in a desire for vengeance. Those who were near the shore when his ship departed would report him humming a Mistan tune...

[!]

A figure seemingly mounted by the sea itself would have been trailing the Sands on the Wind.

But the vessel and its owner did not return, lost to the Fog.

The pursuing companion, on the other hand, washed out with the rain and the perversion of mist,
trickling out from the crevasses of the ship and into its beloved waters.

[!]

[!]

The night is marked by flashes of lightning, followed by distant thunder.

And yet the sky is without clouds.

Vampires, those who once were vampires and those close to them all ventured forth.

And yet only returned to the Hospital with a corpse of their own rank.


Does justice come for all? Or does it merely pick and choose. May flowers bloom upon rotten soil?

A coin was returned today, from a Pyre to a Grave.

Captain_Cynical:

[!]

The night is marked by flashes of lightning, followed by distant thunder.

And yet the sky is without clouds.

Vampires, those who once were vampires and those close to them all ventured forth.

And yet only returned to the Hospital with a corpse of their own rank.


Does justice come for all? Or does it merely pick and choose. May flowers bloom upon rotten soil?

A coin was returned today, from a Pyre to a Grave.

	Quiet footsteps grew silent, not a walk back home. Not a meander around the pit. Only silence. No silver-fox followed the white-haired half-Arsa as she never returned to them to do so.  “Alive?” ”Dead.”   Desperate words outside the hospital. Aoi did not return home, entombed in dirt in hopes she would return again. A coin returned.

Even in mourning, greed waits for no one.

♡

Two found dead, one cared for, the other left to rot in the grass; whilst one was carried away to the embrace of a Graveblossom, the other was scavenged by a coyote who cared little for the first's passing.

That man would be laid to rest without his chestplate, his broken sword, and missing a silver lock of hair ...

A certain many-faced actor spreads word through whispers from her admirers and notices pinned to boards in the undercity and forest, and one sneakily stuck to the underside of the cask counter. In her venture, she dawns the mask, clothes, and golden-streaked mane of a coyote.

♡

"Seeking a blacksmith of exceptional skill.

Will be given a most delicious reward.

-Love, Dahlia."

[!]

Four armed individuals are left tied up near the entrance of the guardhouse, work similar to the last time something like this happened. Each of them has a different mask, worn throughout whatever fight ensued that lead to them being left unconscious. A Tadpole, a Hawk, a Hound and a Dunkbear.

Left pinned on their clothes is a note that reads thus;

"Four caught, two escaped. A Mouse and a Cub. Group is dangerous and deranged, be wary of the streets.

Signed,

Cob-Web"

[!]

Voices around town speak of a special guest appearing whenever there's a game to play.
Will you invite them to play? [For more about this, write to me on discord]

[!]

On the edge of town, a lake turns into a river, and near it, a new trail of candles
would now guide any curious soul to a tranquil place.
Don't forget to bring a present to the host.
[Find the place in game!]

🂡

Whispers on the wind speak of a disturbance in the Emperor’s Envoy to the Spire, Maximilian,’s city abode. 

A mysterious sight of movement within a building that should be unoccupied—with Maximilian back in Mariza for now.

Upon investigation, the doors are wide open—a kettle of tea left on the stove, with untouched pair of teacups on the nearby table. As if someone had left in a hurry. 

Blood—a mixture of red and black with tinges of green—would be found in the courtyard nearby, a scuffle that left injuries. 

…What happened here?

🂡

[!]

Near the town square and the sparring pit, Drenmir's old home has a new occupant - the blinds are quickly drawn shut, however. A glow seems to shift from shuttered window to window at times, and yet a silhouette is never cast upon the curtains. 

[!]

"AIN IS A THIEVING, OATHBREAKING WRETCH, AND I WILL BREAK HIM UPON MY STRENGTH"

From the ruckus of Marteen's tavern, to the calm of the Spire's ruins. From the rhythmic melody of the beaches, to the sonorous bird-song of the Valley of Flowers. From the cavernous depths of the under-city, to the soaring heights of the Spire's rooftop canopy. From all places can these words be heard, shouted, screamed with emotional acid, into the atmosphere.

"UPON ALBEN'S BRIDGE IT WILL HAPPEN. WHERE I WILL NOT BE SHACKLED BY WEAKNESS. WHERE HE WILL NOT BE SAVED BY THE WEAKNESS OF OTHERS."

The Hero of the Spire has declared a duel of honor against one she purports lacks any.

September 11'th
5:00 PM EST
Albern's Crossing

@IlluminTea