Author Topic: Chapter 5 - EFU: City of Rings Rumors & Gossip Thread  (Read 30436 times)

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Dillusionist

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on: November 08, 2020, 11:27:50 PM
The Peerage ward is rife with rumor after a shocking revelation by Dame Eleleth of House Nephezar. The holy knight announced it was discovered that Lord Berneard Glitt has sired a mongrelpig child which was left in the grove of Balelful Stillborn. Nicodemus Nephezar himself was said to have obtained its afterbirth and used his magic to unveil a hideous beast stalking the Mongrelwoods. Fear of changeling taint within the honorable House, Nephezar and the True Faith have declared they shall hold an inquisition at the next council of peers to investigate these claims…

House Glitt has remained silent on the subject. The House has only recently risen from disgrace after Mairead Glitt dispelled the scheming steward Skudge. It is well known that Bernard’s late wife, Meredith Glitt, did die in childbirth some ten years ago. And Bernard Glitt was a wretched drunk for many years after. The Lord released a single proclaimation on the subject, but has spent many of the days after brooding in his chambers.

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City Sending by Bernard Glitt: It is true my family has suffered at the hands of changeling sorcery, much like others of the ward. My wife, and what was good of my son, both died in childbirth. Glitt has, and will always, stand tall for Ring 99. All of you know that. And you know not to listen to whatever venomous SHIT Skudge spews forth.

The Ward is split on the issue. Many remember the rowdy young lord with kindness and chalk the scandal up to some failed blackmail attempt by Steward Skudge. Others, weary of changelings and witchcraft, pine for the days when there was an Inquisitor to set such matters right.
« Last Edit: November 08, 2020, 11:34:52 PM by Dillusionist »



Hound

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on: November 13, 2020, 05:12:02 PM
[ :: Day ??  Year ?? :: ]

An intense row in the Velstra mansion sparked a sequence of events that almost led to war within the Peerage. Following a scathing shouting match between Nicholas and Ruul Velstra, the latter promptly teleported out of the mansion - fed up of dealing with his sibling's apparent wroth. Afterwards, Nicholas brazenly mustered the retinue of his Lionsguard and a handful of siege engines, before marching out to surround and besiege Castle Orza - to the surprise and horror of many onlookers.

The situation swiftly escalated, owing no small thanks to the savage personal rivalry between Kristoff and Nicholas that had been festering ever since Maximilien Orza's death at the hands of the latter in a duel. Tensions heightened to the point where a ballista behind the Velstra barricade shot the castle several times, causing some property damage and even a casualty to one of the arbalests on the roof. Just as the Lionsguard were preparing to bring up the battering ram, a reluctant Guiseppe Orza leaned over the machicolations to explain something to Nicholas.

The Red Lion had, it seemed, been informed by one of his courtiers of the conspiracy behind his wife's malaise - her soul had been stolen by Guiseppe Orza during the Battle for the Steadings. Promising to kill the Orzan warlock for his crime, the situation became more complicated when it became apparent that Guiseppe no longer had the soul of Valentina - because it had been released into the aether.

To the growing horror of Yashan Sarde and Ser Nicholas, Guiseppe revealed that Valentina's soul had been claimed by the Nothing. Kristoff, who knew nothing of this, shifted tact and instead negotiated a truce with Nicholas; in return for offering some of House Orza's best soldiery for an expedition into the Nothing, a ceasefire would be agreed for ten days. Rumours of this planned expedition, a joining of forces between the retainers of two Houses to rescue a lost soul from the shadowy grip of Trystan Moonspear, spread like wildfire in the Peerage Ward. Dubbed the 'Forlorn Hope', owing to the impossibility of their success, willing volunteers prepare themselves for the challenge of their lives - and perhaps the last...


// This event will take place on Saturday 14th November, evening GMT, approximately 1 or 2 hours from the time of this rumour's posting. This event contains permadeath threats.



Ironside

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on: November 17, 2020, 06:16:14 AM
[ :: Day ??  Year ?? :: ]

The Realm is in an uproar.  The Steward of House Nephezar, Adaion, marched into Ticker Square to oversee the seizure of the Adamantine Vault.  Rebuffed by the Guardians, he awaited the arrival of the infamous banker... who arrived in spectacular fashion.

The Steward was immolated in a brilliant flash of fire and light.  A crimson-scaled dragon soared down from the skies, and flashed a rictus grin.  In but moments, the drake shifted and shrank -- and  standing atop the charred corpse of Adaion Nephezar was a familiar man.  A ferocious man.  The Man About Town, the one and only Oscar Tchammorar.  The Dragon of the Vault, and the new Master of Ticker Square.

Still smelling of char and roast suckling pig, he addressed the crowd -- and declared the establishment of a free and independent republic in Ticker Square... a land of the truly free, where men can take as they please ... can claw over each other and murder and maim, so long as the groats continue to flow.

Shaken to the core by the loss of its abiding Steward, the Nephezar retreated to their refuge...

...and unlocked the shackles of their reclusive Lord. 

What followed next even rumormongers in the Groat refuse to divulge.  All that can be gleaned is that both Ticker and the High House are under new management... and the realm shall suffer for both.



Ironside

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on: December 06, 2020, 02:58:02 AM
[ :: Day ??  Year ?? :: ]

Determination.

It was writ on the faces of the Ward's bravest as they marched to liberate Ticker Square from the Dragon, Tchammorar.  Under the banner of High House Nephezar, the shining host would leave as men and return as heroes, under the command of Dame Eleleth and her closest companions they set out for glory and for justice. 

Death.

Was all that awaited our heroes in the Tyrant's Square.  They slew the Dragon's slaves and servants, they battled bitterly with Tchammorar the Neoteric himself - in all his gaudy majesty.  And then the beast tyrant did as his kind so often do when pressed...

He ascended into the skies and rained down fire and smoke, destroying his subjects and devastating his foes.  Nothing remains of Ticker Square, no wares will ever change hands there again, no beggars will beg no blackjacks bark and no thrift or grift proceed.  Nothing remains of the Dame and her band, either - for in dealing mortal blow to the Dragon they gave up their lives one and all.

And in it's death throes, Tchammorar avenged himself upon his slayers by descending - like a bleeding comet - down onto the Nephezar Refuge, where he was embraced by their Lord, and both were lost amidst the terrifying collision.

A smoking crater is all that remains of House Nephezar, and a ruinous mound of slag all that is left of Ticker.  The free folk who once called the Square home have now become refugees, fleeing back to the Peerage Ward that they once spurned. 
 



Ironside

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on: December 06, 2020, 03:03:06 AM
[ :: Day 1 Year 1 :: ]

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'Th'feck do we do now, Duggie?' a coal-smeared dwarf asks the other.  Duggie Grum, impetuous survivor, shrugs. 'Make cheese, I reckon.'  Grimacing at his empty tankard, he muses. '...what goes with cheese..'

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Somewhere damp and far away, a ruddy haired man adjusts an old half-jacket. It has faded over the years, once a smart jet black now all frayed and graying.  He smooths his finger and calloused thumb down the collar and turns it out halfway - the orange inside is still as striking as ever.  He smirks to himself in the mirror, runs his thumb along his chin. He looks like his father at that age; though a tad shorter.

Who wasn't shorter than the giant, though?


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Somewhere quiet and undisturbed a suitor allows himself a rare smile of satisfaction.
Donning an old doublet, feeling out a new suit.
...fastening on two cuff-links encrusted with dark, red gemstones.

It would not be long. No, it would not be long now at all.

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Against the odds, against the heat of the evening and in spite of the flame, a cold wind picks up from the south.
It billows and turns, blowing inward... flowing Kingward.
An imaginative mind might wonder how far it goes.
In a flight of fancy, some imagine the King himself might shudder in that breeze.
Bitter, bitter cold. Cold to chill the bone. Cold to wake the dreaming, cold to rattle the teeth and clap shut the jaw.

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The chill wind billows through a hidden grove, stirring up songbirds and sending a shiver down a small boy's spine.
He glances askance at his tutor, and a thin hand tousles his dark hair reassuringly.
With an air of unease neither can shake, they resume their lessons
« Last Edit: December 06, 2020, 03:05:43 AM by Ironside »



Ironside

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on: December 06, 2020, 03:05:29 AM
[ :: Day ?? Year 1 :: ]

Time passes..

Refugees from the now utterly destroyed Square take what meagre belongings they have and begin making new lives in the Burgage and Weald.  The Houses welcome some with open arms. Velstra and Orza swiftly find use for elven harpists, and half-orcan labourers.  Long has it been since Velstran wine was paired with fine Cheeses!

The metaphor does not ring hollow in the weeks to follow the uneasy relocation...
A throng, hungry and desperate, has come to the Ward. Some work the fields, some cling to their own, while others sharpen spears and hew bows from yew.

The Nephezar do not emerge from their ruin. A disparate diaspora of retainers and former servants cling to their tattered belongings in the Ward, but they will not rise again.
They are a broken and diminished House.  A fifth seat lay open now, on the Council. The Royal Banner is nowhere to be found. Ticker Square is gone... but there is a vacuum to be filled, and opportunity on the wind for the ambitious.

No longer is the 99th Ring host to two divided people. Now, it has become something else. A burgeoning new society. Old hierarchy, and new faces.


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...it has been two weeks or more.

Manservant Duggie Grum scratches at a gaudy purple jacket. Gazes down at his old ale mug, now filled with Velstran Velvet.
It's itchy. He thinks, but he can live with that.
« Last Edit: December 06, 2020, 03:07:06 AM by Ironside »



Arc

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on: December 06, 2020, 04:38:26 AM
[ :: Year 1 :: ]

Rumors spread of changeling madness afoot.

Tales of strange chaos far off in the rings. A mad ringrunner attacking men  in the ward, nearly blind from cataracts. The disturbance was swiftly put down... however.  Something is wrong. Deeply so.

In the ponds, men who before walked with slouching backs now walk with purpose.  Conversations around the fire grow ever quieter, with suspicious and hostile looks given to outsiders. Bug infested and rotten bread is shared more freely. The muggers of the ponds seem almost a touch thoughtful as they open their subjects bowels. And with the fall of Ticker, the number of men in the ponds begins to swell...



Ironside

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on: December 10, 2020, 08:35:01 AM
[ :: Year 1 :: ]

The Royal Archivist, custodian of the Peerage Ward for innumerable years, on behalf of the King...

Now lies dead upon the bridge, with his body impaled by death made steel.  In the midst a fiery decree against the machinations of "the Harborman", the long term institution of the Ward had his life stricken from him by a shadow in the shape of a man.

In the wake of his death, the Archives themselves burned.   Against the protestations of the scribe, Rosalia, the young Lord Morgan of House Flevas led a coterie of men into the blaze and stole away with a dusty tome - as did others.  A Golem in all its fury unleashed stormed through the Ward until all the pages were returned, but none know what the intrepid may have learned.

In the wake of the carnage, Drayson Sparrowbroth made it known that henceforth the Spinning Groat Casino would "manage the paperwork" - harkening to its auld duties and his own much subdued position as Master of the Guild of Lessors.

The smell of burnt vellum and charred timbers fills the air, along with another scent -- that of Change on the wind. 



Ironside

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on: December 15, 2020, 03:32:32 AM
[ :: Year 1 :: ]

A parade of exotic beasts and foreign men in crimson clothes arrived in the Peerage Ward this evening.  At the head of the train was an elephant, gargantuan in size and bearing atop it's back a Howdah shaded with scarlet silks.  Welcomed into the Ward by a crowd of men, and escorted by Orzan spears in great multitude, the parade came to a halt before the high estate of House Sunpurse.

Sitting upon the windowsill there was the Lady, Orianna, who was soon greeted by her Suitor on his howdah on high.  One by one, the Suitor's servants - the Knaves of 99 - foisted up the prizes she dared all the world to bring her, and bit by bit her mourning frown gave way to a tearful smile. 

Count Zarono Senuspur, the Suitor and the last claimaint to the House of Kings, accepted the hand of his longsuffering bride atop an elephants back. 

Offering but a single ducat and his coat to the waiting Reeve, the Count - and new Lord of his House - vanished into the gloom of the old manor.   His Dark Servants were dismissed one and all, and have dissolved into the populace of the Peerage.  The Count's vizier, a thin and pale man of strange stock, pronounced that the Old House of Senuspur would now be reclaiming its seat as the premiere family of the Ward, and lead them in full revolt against "The Usurper King".

The Orzans under their new Lord, himself once a leading man in the orchestra of the Knaves, battered their shields in uproarious cheer.  The Sunpurse dutifully applauded, welcoming their new master home.

The Houses Velstra and Glitt sent no emissaries, and rose no glass or tankard in salute. 

The Lord has returned, but the Ward holds its peace uneasily...



LiAlH4

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on: December 23, 2020, 12:55:25 AM
[ :: Year 1 :: ]

The past day has been spent by many mulling what was a strange, dangerous scene at the first Council of Peers to be held since the marriage of Lady Oriana Sunpurse and Count Zarono Sensupur. All the Houses were in attendance, including minor houses seeking to curry favor in their quest to perhaps fill the seat of Nepehezar, with one of the Bishops of the Faith of the Lord and Lady, Eris Hale, presiding for Sunpurse.

Little of note had occurred beyond verbal sparring between the battle lines of Sunpurse and Orza against Glitt and Velstra, the latter of whom have raised their voices in opposition to the Count. Tension was writ through the room, then, just as it is writ through the ward at large, as a troupe of strange figures entered the Council chambers. They were lead by none other than Adela Nephezar, seeming in a daze amid powerful sorcerous magicks, in the company of two exiled Lords: Schwarzenkopf and Willows. In a moment of clarity, she uttered a grievous curse, accusing Sensupur of corrupting the faith of the Lord and Lady with false idols, damning them in the eyes of the Lord Departed and all who bore witness.

She then disappeared in a cry and flash of spellfire, leaving the scene to swiftly descend into bedlam. Chaos reigned, at least one man in the service of the Count was brought low, and as the dust cleared both of the Exiles lay slain upon the ground. Rumors seethe about the cowardice, or disloyalty, of many in the chamber who chose not to aid the defenders. Others, more quietly, speak of the actions of what may be the last living scion of House Nephezar as something resembling a savior of the ancient traditions against a usurper and tyrant. In any case, Adela Nephezar was nowhere to be found.

A manhunt followed, but all the steading homes and hidden places thusfar looked-in have not revealed the woman who once tended the Almshouse of in the Mongrelwoods, that of the Sobering Spirit. She is hunted even now by the retinue of the Count; though what shall come of this blow to his prestige remains to be seen. Dark talk spreads through the Steadings and the Weald of what may happen if the Count oversteps the limits of his newfound power. Meanwhile, even as the diplomats had met to discuss the situation, as Velstra and Glitt are quietly seen to stockpile the supplies and implements of war.
« Last Edit: December 23, 2020, 01:14:50 AM by LiAlH4 »



Ironside

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on: December 23, 2020, 02:05:52 AM
[ :: Year 1 :: ]

As the winter snows began to fall in full force across the Rings, the Count and a single Ruby were seen to depart their manse and walk among pale paths in the moonlight.  In celebration of their return, it was decreed that a night of gladiatorial games would be held.. and that the victor in such a contest would be granted a single magnanimous favor from Senuspur himself.

Combatants grappled and spat and fought.

Lives were staked, and a champion declared.

No gold or riches or fame or title did the bold victor ask, however... instead it was knowledge they sought. 

The Champion stood before their Count, and asked to hear - spoken aloud for the first time in living memory - the Name of the King.

And the good Count did oblige...



whyemmdee

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on: January 06, 2021, 11:57:03 PM
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[ :: Year 1 :: ]

The infamous Grand Harad, one of the King's personal prisoners recently jailbroken by a group of wayward and rebellious elves, has been known to have finally met final justice. His sentence of exeuction was meted out during one of his infamous bloodthirsty parties somewhere in an ancient prison deep beneath the undergrounds of Ring 99 by a motley collection of courageous retainers and brave ringrunners, helmed by the unlikely 'Hero Hare', Camedyr of the house of Haremarch. Harad's destruction was followed by an immediate, somewhat ironic, jailbreak of many of the ancient prison's long-locked away prisoners, giving rise to the belief that despite the tremendous achievement of ridding the King's domain of such an infamous outlaw, the consequences of such a death may end up doing far more damage to the City in the long run.

Eye witnesses of the event have been heard saying that it had been "one hell of a bash".

tchundere



Dillusionist

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on: January 20, 2021, 06:28:42 AM
In the dark of night a gaggle of commoners and retainers made their way to Scarbeak steadings. Dubious and cranky to be in their smallclothes out in the cold. They found their cold, hard, fields to be soft and tilled. Already fresh crops were beginning to breach the soil. The serfs sang their praises to the King, but keener eyes see small figures dancing in the woods. Masked men watching.

It is rumored Madilyn and Camedyr of House Haremarch worked some hedge magic, and struck an accord with changelings. Some of the great houses look on with unease. In such times, of course, it is best to give such rumors the benefit of the doubt. For now, there is a shred of hope in the steadings.

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City sending by Gwenllian Haremarch
The chill of winter fades early, before it even arrived. The Mists swirl and the King's will finds prey. Till soil, you good folk of the steadings. Hunt the plentiful animals that wander now. Catpure the water, fresh from the night skies. Do so and know that the Cornu-Ceinach and House Flevas have brought such upon you with ritual, with sacrifice, and by taming masks of green, by keeping oath to the -King-.

Kneel and give your blessings to our King in his mists that swirl when they stir by your lands. Give your thanks to he who bestows his power to us. Bury your gems of red for they are worth nothing, and in their place may grow crops of endless bounty. Kneel, and give your praise to our King, Owain of Aberdenn, of lands long lost, lands long ago, lands forgotten. Return your gaze upon us great King, wrap us in the Mists you have claimed and controled, shroud us within them, and let our blades strike upon the menace that stirs.

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City Sending by Greenmask of Willowgrove
[The sing-song voice of a young man] Oh, speak not as if we were tamed by force of arms, little rabbit. The world changes and you and I with it. Eat, drink, and be merry. But you will remember this is our gift to you. Let our gifts and kindness beget your own in the days to come.
« Last Edit: January 20, 2021, 03:40:03 PM by Dillusionist »



Dillusionist

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on: January 30, 2021, 04:53:15 AM
It has been one week since an early spring brought life and crops back to the steadings.  The fears it might be changeling mischief subsided quickly, at least among the common-folk, given the prospect of food and safety.

One warm day, however, a Man in a Green Mask appeared at the edge of the steadings. Behind him stood an army of walking trees and Clifford Farrier, Groundskeeper of Ring 98. He identified himself as a student of the Lost Oaths, and rather politely requested the ear of the Great Houses. The changelings were met by Camedyr of House Haremarch, and a number of retainers.

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Seven days ago a bargain was struck with the Hare. The Duchess of Dawn and Duke of Dusk have brought bounty to your fields. Your people shall know full bellies and warm hearths this season.

Now we ask a favor in turn. For long generations we, who keep the secrets of this land, have known the hate of your King and your Count. For long generations this world has known sorrow.  In return for your harvest we ask that one of your young be sent to us, be they a babe, a child, or grown but not gray. They shall learn what it is to fly, to swim, to put down roots, and more. In one year they will return unharmed. House Haremarch may choose as they see fit.

We shall collect our student in three days. May you walk beside us as friends, some day, and know your place in an ever-changing world.

As the druids made to leave they were interrupted by a drunken Morgan Flevas, shouting curses, and hungry for revenge of some kind. The huntsman took a swing at the Greenmask, but was summarily beaten down by changeling and retainer alike.

With House Haremarch barred from the Peerage ward, the Great Houses' stance on the matter seems rather clear...
« Last Edit: January 30, 2021, 07:07:27 AM by Dillusionist »



Dillusionist

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on: February 02, 2021, 01:39:48 AM
The Hour soon approaches when the changelings claim their tribute...

This will be 2/4 at 10pm EST.

(I am sorry for the delay. This was meant to be tomorow. I've had to change things around because of the snowstorm. If this is not good for anyone looking to participate let me know.)