A few rumors have been floating around surrounding the posters recently put up all over the Spire

"I hear that man who put those flyers up? hes actually a fey"

"That constable you know the one with the boar helm, these posters make me think me may be turned INTO a human somehow, it makes sense....."

"I heard that undercity bloke they captured... he's a dunkbear. they're just too embarrassed to admit it, those posters just propaganda to make us think there's people out there actually FIGHTING for this"

⋆.˚⋆✮⋆˙ The Flamekeeper ⋆.˚⋆✮⋆˙

A jingly jester is seen rushing in a rapid shuffle towards the Hermetic Assembly in the early morning breeze. Cradled in the man's hand are three peculiar objects: a rune-inscribed doll, a leather-bound mage's tome and a... Big box swaddled in a blanket that the Jester was seen muttering threats to. For those attuned to the Occult - Cursesmiths and soothsayers alike may notice something odd about the man's gait. He's not alone. Three fluttering motes of light flutter and flit like bouncing ash around his body. 

A trail of ashen footsteps are left in his wake, drawing lines that human footsteps cannot leave in their trail. What oh what is that Jester up to...? For the following nights, repeated visits to the Hermetic Assembly would be made: routine, like clockwork. To and fro back and forth, covered in more and more soot tags. He smells of sulfur and smoke. 

[!]

Flyers are strewn about the Undercity, warning fellow merchants of cursed items being sold. A figure stops by the board, with darkened hair and fiery eyes. He lingers there, for longer than most - A shake of his head, continuing on with his day. 

It isn't long before similar notices make their way above ground. Travelers report strange occurrences in the woods. Some recall strange dreams, a feeling of being watched. Word travels quick in this town. The fey-touched stranger tries to pay it no mind. 

But is it truly a coincidence? 

He sits alone in the far corner of the Slug Hole, clutching onto a letter. This feels familiar. He isn't sure yet what to make of it. 

He too, will dream of violet eyes. 

Lady Mercedes came by to visit The Spire in search of entertainment... However, after winning a match, Marionette Vex refused her reward of a kiss from one of the lady's guards. How disappointing...

[!]

A rumor’s been circulating about a brown‑skinned, amber‑eyed Walljack dragging a white‑haired half‑Arsa woman down the street by her foot,
both of them battered to ruin, bruised and bleeding out their pores.

When stopped, the guards noted a strong rotten‑fish stench coming off the man, but allowed him through after he stated - quoted for the report:

“It was a duel… and I WON!!”

Witnesses say the woman woke halfway through, Irian rasping and furious, shouting:

“I do not CARE if you won, you STINK!!”

He kept dragging her, unfazed, all the way down the cobblestone path. The pair continued bickering loudly as they left the spire's shadow and headed toward the valley of flowers.

Deep in the forest, a lullaby can be heard. Calling out to someone, anyone to follow it...

(Hi! If you have a muse you'd like to be kidnapped for a brief event on Sunday, let me know!)

[!] It is never a quiet day in the spire...

"A duel?" Whispers spread around town fast, do they not?

"I have heard of one! Two giants" It has not even been a day yet.

"One of them has wings, the other this weird ghost arm?" The contenders were not hard to identify, especially for those who knew of them.

"They are not fighting till the death of one another? Boring" All could form different opinions, but at the end of the day...

Spirefolks would hear of a non-lethal duel being arranged between two greatlings. 

 

[Within the confines of Albern's Crossing, whispers echo. . .]

"Bracchus--yes, the big one! Yes, well, I owe him my life, really. Really! [...] Fought off a near-dozen bandits. I and my sister are in his debt."

"... oh, oh, yes, the jester-knight was there. He was in the group I found, the ones who helped my brother!"

"Some set of nature-lovers, they were. Carrying a pound of feed [...] Ach, nae! Fought them off as well as that knight! And the other--she was kind enough to bandage my foot."

Rumors of a band of fighters, each arriving at Albern's Crossing for various reasons, coming together to fend off a group of bandits on the southern road. This would not be as notable if it were not for the affiliation of these bandits--with whispers of an affiliation with the once-thought-defunct Locke and Keye group, who previously terrorized the Spire and Walljack territory both.