EFU:R Gossip, Major Events, and Rumors (IC Knowledge)

[The Samophlange]

::[ Nightal 19th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::
 
Darkness overtook the city of Sanctuary. The Spellguard pylons fell prey to what was described as a mechanical defect for nearly a full bell as the citizenry huddled quietly in shadow. And yet, as the lights flickered back into place it was a scene of tragedy that would await them.
 
Mayor William Bresley, the sole surviving heir to the legacy of Melinda and Charles Bresley, lay dead in the House of Governance. It is said that a veiled drow pierced his frail body as he prepared to give a speech, ultimately fleeing the pursuit of those present and vanishing into the caverns beyond the city. In the absence of any answers rumors circulate the city about the convenient timing of the sudden outage and what part the Spellguard might've played in the deed.
 
Before the boys's body even grew cold Commander Kyros Miller IV arrived to the scene via a silent projection and strode calmly to the edge of the amphitheater. Secretary Calandra Thervion rose from William's side to face him, offering a tired greeting as the blood pooled by her feet. It was then that the cause for his visit was laid bare: The Spellguard would seek the immediate arrest of the former regent, for the crime of aiding Sanctuary's destruction. The accusation was met in turn with a challenge; a duel between the two wizards who once served as Operatives together. The commander accepted, stating that the duel would be made for all to see. In a flourish of arcane might the pair vanished, whisked away to some far-off battlefield.
 
The quiet from within the House of Governance did not last as sounds of further chaos washed in from the streets. All across the city images of the pair battling emerged, slinging spells with incredible skill and ferocity. Several fights waged in the same instant, with one image of the Secretary strangling the life from the Commander in the Square even as he burned her flesh from her bones on the Street of the Gods in another. Eventually it culminated in a spell that seemed to shake the foundations of the city itself, leaving no clear victor.
 
Eventually it was Calandra Thervion who emerged once more from the House of Governance to look out over the crowed that had gathered. Though she struggled to stand fully upright, her robes singed by spellfire and blood running from her temple, she called once more for unity from Sanctuary. Unity not beneath the Mayor and its council... but the Order of the Spellguard. With a flick of her wrist the robes of her office melted away to cinders, revealing the apparel of the new Commander of the Spellguard. Those present could only stand in shocked silence as she made her decree that the Great Work, a silence broken only by the sullen sobbing of Senior Animator Basian Dhimani.
 
As the remains of the broken council struggled to answer the questions of the citizenry other sprung to action. Within the vaults Malark Amblecrown began once more to prepare his men for war, speaking to any that would listen that the Dread were poised to take advantage of the city's weakness. Down in the sinking districts of Lower the Pactholders shared whispers of rituals nearing completion, and work yet to be done to uphold the three tenets. The bell of the Mausoleum tolled many times, with the most unexpected of the fallen being Savras, the Lord of Divination. With the stroke of a single blade, the future seemed less certain than ever...

[Tala]

::[ Nightal 26th : Year 165 : 1387 DR ]::

It is said that a small group of adventurers has set out this dark on a mission from the church of Targus. They have battled many Orogs until they have slained a champion of Gruumsh, and destroyed a shrine dedicated to him.

During the hours that followed, arrivals from the Spellguard's portals tell of fights and battles across the land of savage warriors against hordes of orcs, with many shrines of the Orc Pantheon currently lie in waste. The worshippers of Targus praise his name and his victory over the orcs and celebrate whatever number of orcs that have surrounded to Targus during the battles and joined his banner.

Whatever will happen due to this recent Targus triumph is yet to be known, and as the state of the gods remain as uncertain as ever, the Scriveners of Doom cross out six more names from their list.

[Halfbrood]

The past few days have been filled with happenings of great import, it would seem, and on the tongues of Sanctuary’s gossipers, the following can be learned:

Firstly, it is said, that the Covenant of the Pure, those that worship the ooze beneath, tasked themselves with a dangerous pilgrimage, to the surface island Ymph, through the old Way used by Frederick Bresley.

Little can be found out about the journey itself, beyond the obvious dangers that would have been encountered, but the happenings afterwards are well known across the Underdark.

Upon their return, it is said they brought with them a scion of the Ooze – a Lost piece of the puzzle that would turn the Great Ooze the most fanatical of them worship, into some kind of demi-God.

It appeared they were successful because, rising in a great tide of filth and ooze from Lower, finally reunited with its lost scion, a new and immense ooze rose, and crashed through the Canal, destroying what boats remained, before slithering and settling within the Dark Lake.

Therein, it is said, the newly named ooze Slp’glp’ytthx’grpt’grlpt’tnsslp’glubt’pssph’gluu’alshlpt was now complete and expand, growing and gurgling, to envelop the entire lake and with it, it is said, a ruinous City rose from the depths.

The Lake now is hazardous for any to swim in, and the fish and animals that live there are consumed and killed – only the hardiest of creatures were able to resist the ooze’s coming and have begun to flee the oozy lake for fresher waters. It is even said that a Goddess, hiding amongst the waves of the Lake from the rampaging of the Night Serpent, Dendar, was in turn consumed.

This entire ordeal has caused great problems for the fisherfolk and traders who depended on the Lake for food and sustenance, and the rumblings in the Lower Wards especially speak of empty bellies and muttered curses against the ooze and its ilk…

Then, only days later, further tragedy struck the people of Sanctuary and their allies. A Courier, posted to the Embassy of Magnatz the Red Giant, spoke of a great Host of Dread forces, having ambushed and lay siege to the newly seized Fort Mur as the giant surveyed his prize.

Sanctuary patriots, Collective members and Spellguard alike mobilised, along side a motley group of adventurers, and marched to Magnatz’s aid.

The collective army of Sanctuary fell upon the Host twice and twice were they repelled, with great losses upon each side – then, when they thought that all was lost, reinforcements from Sanctuary arrived and with a third and final push, the line of the Dread Host was broken and the way to Mur was secured.

Though this was not to be a victory to sing of, for the way to Mur was stained with more blood, as the forces fought their way to relieve what remained of Magnatz’s host, a few leperous goblins…

Through all this bloody fighting, it was heard a great and titanic battle was being had beneath Mur itself, with the great blood magics of the Red Giant rising and falling against whatever lurked below.

Onwards pressed the bravest of Sanctuary, and into the depths, as they had done just weeks before, they descended once more, prepared to stand by Magnatz’s side against whatever horror the Dread Host had brought to bear.

What happened below has been told and retold a hundred times, each speaking of different horrors that were witnessed, though there are some facts that cannot be denied…

They say that a scene of a great and titanic battle was witnessed, with evidence of blood and magic rife.

They say that Magnatz, the once proud and powerful Giant, was brought to his knees and lay near defeated upon the floor.

They say that a great creature, the like of which no man had ever laid eyes upon, had come as Magnatz’s Reckoning; towering beyond even the giant immense size, with a body made entirely of brain matter, dripping with vile fluids and pulsing with foul implants, the creature stood.

They say that the Sanctuary forces ran to the aid of the Red Giant, who in his final moments defied the creature with great magics...

And they say that it was not enough. Magnatz, in the end, looked upon the creature with fear. Pleading for aid, even as the creature ripped off his head, the look of horror remaining as the creature consumed his brain.

The rumours beyond this point are addled, scattered, unsure – though there is talk of a hurried retreat, a heroic last stand by a band of Watchers and an Agent of Serena Tower, and the inexorable advance of the creature into the darkness…

Now is come the Reckoning of Man, all will kneel and be judged at the Monument of Hubris.

[Halfbrood]

Once more, there is movement on all fronts within Sanctuary.

It is said that in recent days, what few Watchers, Warders and other patriots can be found about outside of the Safety Zone, spend their time lounging about the Grotto, swilling drinks, feasting and with their Engineer brothers, talking of their operations of recent days, though all of this is tinged with an air of dutiful sadness, as it is said that many give their lives with every inexorable step towards the Machine's final completion.

Along the Canal, where there once was the incessant sound of drumming and maddening merriment, there now is the cold, mechanical hum of new machinery. A new coolant system installed, manned and well defended, and with it, greater amounts of Substance churn out of pipelines old and new, spilling their filth into near every water source closeby to Sanctuary.

Madness reigned one night, if only for the briefest of moments. It all started with screams from the Trade Hall and with it, great bursts of dark energies and spellfire. The madness was momentary, but with it came death; word spreads quickly that some manner of creature was summoned, for whatever reason, in the bottom floor of the Trade Hall whereupon it began a brief reign of terror.

This reign was ended as quick as it starter, with word speaking of the two that were responsible finding quick death at the hands of spellfire from the hands of an Agent of the Spellguard, showing no mercy to fools who would meddle in dangerous affairs with little skill or understanding.

Further dark news reached the ears of Sanctuary's people, yet again, with word of the Great Adversary's movements beyond the borders of the city. Scouting forces report on the great creature, known amongst the fearful as the Monument of Hubris, single-handedly laying siege to the Mound of Magnatz, and without a care, delivering slaughter upon the rag-tag band that remains.

Though the forces of Magnatz are scattered, the Mound's defences seem to hold strong, with the entire Mound finding itself wreathed in a blood-red barrier.

A force of Exile Collective warriors, Spellguard and sundry sought to deliver a strong blow against the Monument and it's forces, yet after a swift engagement, those rallied forces quit the field, retreated to Sanctuary, and abandoned the Mound to its fate.

Some say this is a sensible thing, for there is little to be done against the Monument, whilst others decry it as, at worst, cowardice and at best, the surrendering of a strategic supply route to the enemy, who is no doubt now using the Mound's great Lift to bring goods, soldiers and supplies directly up from the Lowerdark.

Word then speaks of a small group of concerned citizens, making their worries known in a rowdy fashion, throwing fruit and rocks at those they thought to have abandoned the Mound to it's fate. This 'uprising' was dealt a swift and brutal blow, by a female Agent of the Spellguard, whom immolated and slaughtered the entire crowd of citizens who dared speak out against them, leaving their smoking bodies to the rats, upon the steps of the House of Governance.

And through all of this, people wonder of two things - what has become of Magnatz's widow, Magga and what truth is there to the rumours that a troupe of vicious looking goblins, skin as red as blood, roams abroad, of late?

[The Samophlange]

::[ Ches 14th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

The evening began with an unusual sending, calling would-be entrepreneurs to the shores of Sorrowfeast for a chance at the buy of a lifetime. The prize on offer, it is said, was none other than the devious drow  Blathnaid. The few curious souls that came to see the price such an exotic creature would command found themselves joined by a large number of the Covenant of the Pure, rallying behind the furious blademaster Rhyldryn. Denied his half of some deal, the drow was forced to bid a fine sum to win back his female, much to the delight of several present. Many prepared to depart, thinking the spectacle was over.

As the gawping visitors made back for the docks it was the aged monk Ikran who spoke out. "The hour draws, and so it is time." Without a further word he raised a hand to strike one of the Ogre guards, beginning a battle that would rage across the whole of the market. The members of the Covenant put to the sword Marott and his Auction, slaying all within who had grown fat on the suffering of free folk. Though several of their number perished, including the very woman they came to free, spirits within the flooded alleyways of Lower soared all the same. Many a tankard was raised, always to the same cry:

"To Free the Slaves!"

Now, bereft of its commerce, the isle lays abandoned... save for a few wriggling oozes, left in acidic vigil.

[Gippy]

This night the Union took back Starags Rest from the Exiled Collective and the dwellers of the vaults. The Union's long planned attack finally happened, however not as any could have forseen. Upon orders of their superiors to not let any harm or damage come to the Rest, a few of the Exiled Collective and their allies sallied forth and lost a decisive battle in the Square of Middle Sanctuary. It is noteworthy that the Knights of the New Path did not take part in the battle, preferring to focus their efforts on their "Crusade" against the Dread Empire and its spawn. Nonetheless the Union - led by its warleader Molgon - and its mixed allies defeated the ragged host, seemingly led by Sophonias Quinn, taking him prisoner and forcing a bargain for his and his host's life.

The refugees of Starags Rest, displaced by the news of the impeding attack, make their return with mixed feelings. Some do not return at all and rumors of families hiding holes in caves beyond Sanctuary filled with Hook Horrors or other deadly perils are whispered with some frequency. Some welcome the Union as their new protectors, whispering that it is a return to the ways of Old Sanctuary's Watchers, though others simply leave for the cramped spaces of the Vaults.

[Tala]

::[ Tarsakh 10th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

An almost forgotten figure has made an appearance this dark in "Middle" Sanctuary. Austanias Glademore, former Director of the Red Guild, wearing a magnificent golden armor and covered from head to toe with relics of the divine, was seen entering the House of Knowledge. He was accompanied by two elven bodyguards, each holding unusual weapons, which many assume to be relics, from Glademore's collection. A few moments after he entered the building, scholars, and visitors to the House of Knowledge were seen rushing out, claiming the elf has urged them to "be somewhere else for a short while". When an alarmed Blue Mantle scholar claimed the elf has reached the Patriarch while holding a sword in his hand, a small group composed of members of the Watchers and Warders, Union members and adventurers, rushed in, with Spellguard Agent Claire Chambers (Girl Genius) leading them in.

The accounts of what followed have slight variations, depending who you'd ask, but most of them mention of Glademore having a short conversation with the distraught Patriarch which was held back by the two bodyguards. The former elf Director then approached the Statue of Deneir and smashed it down to pieces with what many believe now to be a holy sword, as when he did so, a shadow being that was found to lie within it was no more...

As soon as the statue was destroyed, darkness appeared all around the House of Knowledge but quickly disposed of by Glademore and the warriors around. During all the chaos, the House of Knowledge was shaking with many books falling from the shelves. After a bit of observation, it was found that all the books that fell were history books and journals, and they all had nonsense and jibberish written inside them now. Most of the history written in the House of Knowledge was now no more.

Eventually, Glademore left the building, his bodyguards following shortly after, carrying crates, said to be filled with books and relics of Deneir to be added to Glademore's relics collection, or disposed of if found to be corrupted like the statue. He left, leaving words of inspiration and hope, that in a short while all will change, and the Night Serpant will be destroyed. As he did so, Agent Claire Chambers left her words that history is not important, as they will write their own history; That the gods are not important, as they have the Machine. There have been supporters and nay-sayers to both, and time will tell who shall not merely speak, but also act and deliver...

The Scriveners of Doom have crossed out Deneir from their list.

[Gippy]

  ::[ Tarsakh 13th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

This night the Spellguard drove home the point that they have simply abandoned Middle Sanctuary to its fate with the formal declaration dissolving the Union and calling for the head of the minor agitator Molgon Merrybrew. A hunting party led by the thuggish Count Carilius Manzahar burst into the Trade Hall, beating down the one mercenary there, took his keys and attempted to find Molgon in his own chambers but only found the ire of The Merchants of the Trade Hall.  While seemingly such petty disturbances, these acts caused reverberations throughout Sanctuary as the last true "Watchers" of the Spellguard quit in disgust over the Spellguard's action and inaction. The Merchants have put out quiet feelers to find the most deadly mercenaries money can buy and there's gossip in the Trade Hall that any violence now will be met with the harshest of consequences from several new faces seen sharpening various implements of death and counting their coins. In defiance of a Spellguard that they realize either needs them, or does not care enough to punish them individually or collectively, The Merchants stand with Molgon Merrybrew and the Union just as he and his fellows have stood in their defense on occasion. The trade merchants mutter that the trade hall stands as an independent bastion of commerce for Sanctuary... (no freaks or monsters welcome!) ... and the Spellguard remains welcome so long as the path to Final Sanctuary remains open.

Not all the news of the night simply reflected poorly on the Spellguard for, disturbing rumors have come from some of the farmers of Starags rest that while they were occupied by the Knights of the New Path their soils were forcibly mulched with aberrant parasites and ever since their mushrooms, molds and even animals have grown strange, aberrant features. The most aberrant of these crops have been carted off to the war effort for the Knight's own consumption, but to the farmer's they are so disturbing as to be useless as food. With the Knights, even temporarily out, many crops have been culled and regrown and the quality of food in Sanctuary is already showing benefits. Many see the Knights as sad tormented defenders of Sanctuary, but more than a few point to this and the increased aberrant rate from the Vaults as a sign that perhaps the Exiles are forcing the hand of fate in only taking 'willing' men and women into their campaign against the Dread.

From Lower the news is that the Covenant is still as alien and loathsome to the common man as ever, though there's increased traffic through the Pissing Crone which has become sort of a rallying place for former Watchers.

A growing sense of hopeless unease continues in Sanctuary, its people scattered and unprotected, they've created makeshift bolt holes in sections of Dunwarren and adventures continue to find corpses of lone men and women that picked the wrong chosen infested house to try and hold up in.

A bounty stands on posts across Sanctuary:

Count Carilius Manzahar, dead. 5000 gold. Selection of rare magical artifact from the Merchant's Stores. - The Merchants

[Tala]

::[ Tarsakh 14th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

A series of sendings, much in a form of a speech, were made by former Director of the Reds, Austanias Glademore:

Good dark, my children. It is I, Austanias Glademore. I speak with you today on a matter of much importance.

To those who may not know me, [a soft chuckle] I was previously a Director on behalf of the Red Guild. I thought that through politics, and public representation, I could help and guide you towards the path of enlightenment, and inspire the hope of the divine within you. I admit I was mistaken, as the forces of corruption and distrust were well within the governance, and once I realized my errors, I have retired for many moons and suns, meditating and praying for the gods to direct me at the right path.

Now, I return to you, with an answer and the correct path. While at first, I was too blind to see it, the answer was with us all along. The answer is the gifts of the gods to us, in the form of their divine relics!
I have collected these relics for days and darks, and only a few days ago, I have shown you their power, with the removal of the darkness of the Night Serpent from the House of Knowledge!

This was only but a demonstration, but more is needed in order to protect Sanctuary from her darkness and corruption. More is needed before we'll use the gifts of the gods to get rid of Dendar for good!

In order to do so, I, no, Sanctuary requires your aid. I shall send expeditions across the Underdark in order to retrieve powerful relics, the most divine of them all. Once they are safe with us...oh, why to spoil a pleasant surprise, you shall see!

Any people of faith and holy warriors are welcomed to join these, and adventurers and mercenaries will see a nice reward from them. Listen to my sendings, Sanctuary, the days of the darkness are numbered!

[Gippy]

::[ Tarsakh 15th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::
On this dark a battle broke out in Middle Sanctuary between adventurers and several extremely strong Orog "mercenaries". Everyone is a bit hazy on the details of why the battle took part, but a sleight from Molgon Merrybrews is said to the cause. After the battle a retinue of Watchers marched up from Lower Sanctuary in bedraggled and ooze crusted green armor under the command of former Sgt. Garth Shennd and agreed to watch over Starags Rest for a fair day's pay. The people of the Rest are relieved, though some whisper that they worry the Spellguard will retaliate against the rebellious nature of Shennd and his men. Notably, the Exiled Collective came from the rear of Starags and into the thick of the fighting, accounting for themselves most nobly. It is whispered that the green armor of the Watch is actually available for purchase in the Halls of the Merchants, though that's just a rumor... surely they could not be so defiant of the Spellguard.

[Gippy]

::[ Tarsakh 16th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

For most of this day the ooze stood in agitation with dark ripples undulating the placidity of the Dark Lake. The agitation was on account of the peril of an elder ooze upon the surface. Though Strangeling devices in the vaults, many witnessed the events as they unfolded - a massive ooze, escaped from some sort of Exile Illithid device, ascending and corroding a great Dread tower pointed towards the stars. A dread master, acid eaten and dead lay in its path as the ooze called for allies and faithful across the world to defend it from a host of Undead and the attempts to recover the ooze by an Illithid Master belonging to the Exile Collective - when the battle had finished, both the great ooze and the Illithid Exile Master lay dead though some of the ooze's essence is rumored to have been carried back to Sanctuary. The Exile's covet this essence for the ooze's unique property to fully disrupt an individual's enthrallment and wrestle them back to freedom, upon whom they would use it is a matter of some conjecture - the king in Tethyr, the grand vizier of Calimport, some arch wizard, the Dread General Kingsley? 


The clan of Etorix, led by the mighty warrior-priest Cull made an attempt to seize this essence from Lower but was repulsed by waves and waves of slime. Many in Lower died, including some half-dozen drow warriors but there was losses on the side of the Exile Collective as well and when a trade of prisoners took place Cull and his ally The Count broke ranks with the Collective and set out on a new path, leaving the Exile "Warden of the Vaults" Quinn to carry the heavy burden of his dead comrades to their ultimate fate.


The movement of these great players in Sanctuary after such a long cold war brings a bit of hope to people. This is not bad news this dark, it is simply news and that is a refreshing change of pace.

[Ironside]

::[ Tarsakh 26th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

It is a dark unlike any other in recent memory.   The forces of Ysinode meant to retake the city, and re-establish their routes to the greater Empire on the surface - and the alien intellects guided their Monument of Hubris to ensure this was accomplished.

Driven by necessity, an uneasy alliance was formed between the Drow of the Covenant, and the Knights of the New Path.  Led by Idraen Markem, Malark Amblecrown, and D'lathos Zyrzanel, a motley army of freaks and slime-worshippers descended upon the latticed ruin of Traensyr.  Fighting their way to the heart of the city, racing against time, this unlikely band faced all the assembled wrath and ruin of the Dread Empire in the near-middledark. 

Facing down Rhiannon Kingsley herself in the black heart of Traensyr, the warband accomplished a feat long thought impossible - the defeat of the Dread General.

Yet, the victory is not without cost.  The infamous D'lathos Zyrzanel was cut down by Kingsley's Swords, and the arrival of the Monument spelled the bitter, violent end for Ser Malark Amblecrown and his Knights of the New Path.  With a final word to his protege, the scarred knight leaped upon the unstoppable juggernaut, and was torn apart.  In their dying, the New Path seems to have come to its violent and bloody end. 

Traensyr is a ruin.  The Drow who once inhabited Lower Sanctuary's fortress are scattered and bereaved.  The New Path is no more, and Idraen Markem has returned home to Sanctuary, with Rhiannon Kingsley - free of mind, and whole of body once more - in his arms.
Some raise their cups and toast the erstwhile Director and heroes return, while others grumble of bitter victories, and of possibilities lost.  What Rhiannon's return may mean for Sanctuary is yet to be seen...

[ShadowCharlatan]

::[ Tarsakh 26th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

Todark, the restored Commander Rhiannon Kingsley and a party of former Society Ordinants led a mob into the Public Housing Vaults and purged it of monsters and aberrants. A trickle of monsters escaped into the Underdark, but the majority of monsters and freaks in the Vaults were put to the sword or burned alive.

This tiny remnant of the Society of the Ordered Mind now stands watch in the Vaults. There are calls for Rhiannon to assume the position of Mayor of Sanctuary, but it is said that her physical condition has deteriorated since she was cleansed of enthrallment. Some say that she can barely stand after exerting herself to lead the purge and cut down the Emissary of the Exile Collective. Nevertheless, the old Sanctuary is rearing its head amidst the dark and chaotic times. Monsters and freaks find that they are no longer welcome.

However, despite the loss of the Knights of the New Path, the Exile Collective cell native to Sanctuary - the rebellious illithid and their followers are not dead. Talk among informed patrons of the Sleeping Pyrimo suggests that a number of mutants have found their last hope lies in the eccentric Intryzz.

Meanwhile, Lower Sanctuary has slain and expelled the drow that occupied the Fortress. Yet the Covenant of the Pure lives on as well, amidst the rise of the Man in the Mask and his plots. There is talk around the Dark Lake of unusual movements and gurglings in the waters.

[Vlaid]

::[ Mirtul 16th : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

Following a terrorist attack on a Spellguard facility, resulting in the deaths of a number of Watcher and Warder personel  which resulted in a bounty on responsible parties, all has seemed quiet in Middle Sanctuary.  Some of the rebellious individuals such as the halfling Kora Bramblefoot brazenly declaring that she would not be moved from Sanctuary. These small gatherings of rebellious individuals growing in size.

But early on Mirtul 16th an official proclamation was made from Serena Tower, interrupting one such gathering of malcontents.

Spellguard Broadcast : Greetings Final Sanctuary citizens and hopefuly aspirants dwelling in middle Sanctuary. The Watchers and Warders would have a public service announcement for all hoping for a better, brighter more hopeful future.  Recently there was an attack on a facility key to the Great Work. It is at this time we must remind all people that every action has an equal reaction of consequence. The damage these bright-eyed rebels without a plan for the future have caused has stretched repair crews thin. A number of power systems runing throughout Dunwarren have begun to malfunction. We hope to devote more manpower to these repairs once the terrorist cells responsible are dealt with. In the meantime you may experience occasional `malfunctions` around Dunwarren.

The Watchers and Warders deeply regret the harm and potential deaths this may cause to our loyal Middle Sanctuary residents and travelers of Dunwarren.

What followed is still a matter of some debate within MIddle Sanctuary. A large number of systems around the city began to malfunction with eratic electrical power. Defensive obelisks began powering on and off without warning. As the tension in the city rose, brawls began breaking out over the smallest of insults. The malfunctions came to a final, resounding end as a large conduit of power running beneath the Street of the Gods exploded, killing a number of elves walking the street - strangely absent were any of the usual humans who used to frequent the area.

During the chaos, one "Seeker" Alan Harcourt was seen challenging Chief Engineer Naomi Mekuria as she arrived to assess the damage of the malfunctions. The battle of the pair quickly escalated and became a running battle into the In Between and down into Lower. None can claim to know how the battle went, but residents of Lower fearfully whisper about the frightfully one sided conclusion as the Seeker hero was brutally beaten by a terrifying display of divine power and martial might. It is widely believed that he was dragged off to Serena Tower to be executed, another in a long chain of defeated enemies of the Spellguard.

The fate of Alan Harcourt was left unclear at best, many grieving his loss deeply already. Later in the dark a single sending removed all doubt to the fate of the "Seeker".

Unauthorised Dunwarren Sending by Alan Harcourt : [An incredibly haggard, broken, and raspy voice...] F-freedom... forever...!

Rumors and myths begin to form as to how he managed to escape - meanwhile people wandering near the Deep Forge complaining loudly about a thick choking smoke that took hours to dissipate with no explanation given by the Watchers and Warders.

Some say that it is clear that the Watchers and Warders carried out these "malfunctions" with clear intent to remind Sanctuary who is in charge, yet even as a large number of elves and adventurers departed the city angrily,  a smaller minority of the pragmatic or loyal to the progress of the Machine proclaim this the natural result of the rebels - terrorists who have brought nothing but misery in their self-righteous and ill-advised war.

In the dark since these events the Union has concluded their election for the position for their Sheriff - pointedly refusing the advice and offer of the Watchers and Warders to use their election system. Balthasar Bancroft has been elected Sheriff of the Union with nobody left alive to challenge him for the position. All eyes look to him and how he will lead the Union in weeks to come.

[Tala]

::[ Mirtul 22nd : Year 166 : 1388 DR ]::

The dark of Mirtul 22nd shall be remembered by many how a peaceful, quiet dark, sprawled into a dark of nightmares, death, and destruction. All spit and curse as they utter a name "Austanias Glademore".

Over recent weeks the former Director of the Red Guild, Austanias Glademore the Urbane, has made many preparations for a little explained "ritual" to destroy the Night Serpent, yet remained ever elusive on the details. Nevertheless he inspired hope and a youthful optimism in those of faith that would follow his vision for the end of Dendar, bane of the gods.

In addition to the relics that have been gathered for the last two years by scholar Ashani Mendara in Glademore's name, Glademore sent expeditions to retrieve powerful and ancient relics. From the surface, to the underdark and even into the territory of the Dread Empire themselves, relics were gathered by able-bodied adventurers and people of pious virtue.


Early on Mirtul 22nd it was discovered by a group working on behalf of Ashani Mendara that the shrine of Helm at the Barbican had been attacked and its defenders slain by a small number of forces from Ysinode. The former Director Glademore, distraught over the loss of his good friend, sent a band of adventurers led by Kora Bramblefoot to complete a task to bring a relic of Helm called "The First Blade" back to Sanctuary. The details of what happened remain yet murky, but what is known is that the First Blade was retrieved and the deity Helm fell silent.

During the dark that followed, many excited and overjoyed followers of Glademore were seen carrying hundreds of relics from the vaults of the former Director to the Hose of the Gods in Final Sanctuary, singing his praises. As the hour of the ritual drew near, a portal was opened on behalf of the Spellguard to Final Sanctuary. Many residents of Middle Sanctuary made their way to the House of the Gods: Followers and devouts, aristocrats in pursuit of a good show, skeptical scholars, adventurers and also mere common folk who wanted to catch a glimpse of the Spellguard crafted illusory paradise.

The ritual, in the works for years now, was finally underway. But it soon became apparent to all present that neither the former Director nor his followers had any idea what they were doing; Glademore stood in gleaming armor, waving a decorative sword above his head as his followers chanted little more than gibberish of those who had only a passing knowledge of what a ritual was supposed to look like.

However, perhaps to the surprise of all, something began to happen. A hurricane of relics spun around the ritual as one after another they flew into Glademore's sword, coalescing into something larger with each relic. Fearful and confused Glademore fled from the ritual circle as an amalgamation of all the relics gathered rose - terror swept through the crowd as the creature wrought chaos and death to all who had come for a miracle.

In the chaos of the battle few know exactly what happened, only that the Final Sanctuary illusory form of Mask came alive and stabbed the former Director Glademore dead.

The patience of the Spellguard for the antics of Glademore, his followers and all that he had done had reached an end. The immense "relic golem" and all the crowd were expelled, quarantined into secondary worlds of illusion. Traversing from one flickering landscape of exotic self-indulgent vistas to the next in search of a way out.

The struggles of the ritual goers finally reached its zenith in a flickering cave of darkness, doing battle with a seemingly endless army of shadows streaming from all directions. It is rumored that the shadows were the work of the deity Mask himself, or perhaps essences of darkness manifested from the Night Serpent, but others dismiss this as a simple quirk of an illusion gone wild.

In the final pitched moments of the battle, the relics of Glademore are said to have exploded with an exultant release of divine power, only by a miracle of a fading avatar of Ilmater were lives spared.

Sanctuary and perhaps moreso those who have managed to attain a coveted ring to Final Sanctuary real in the aftermath of the events. People gather at watering holes around Sanctuary trying to make sense of how much of what happened was the illusions of Final Sanctuary gone awry and how much was true.

Following the failed ritual of Former Director Austenias Glademore the Urbane, a few simple facts have become irrefutable. Watchmen have grown sleepy and distracted in their duties. Old wounds long healed have re-opened and begun to fester. Even among the shadows, thieves and men of dark dealings remark that their profits from honest work at murder-banditry and pilfering have been the worst they've ever seen. Even after all this, a few concerned scholars can be seen muttering to each other that Glademore's folly had caused more tragedies that are yet to be revealed...

So it is believed that Helm, Ilmater and Mask have fallen in just a matter of darks. All Sanctuary looks to the future bleakly, wondering if there is still yet hope that any of the gods can save them.