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Numerous bandits and outlaws have been harassing travelers along the forest road south of Vallaki. Astute observers have remarked that these are no ordinary bandits or outlaws, but Gundarakite Rebels.
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A group of Elven archers were spotted patrolling the southern woods and shoreline of the lake. They chased off some people arguing near the fay settlement and then proceeded to wander along the road singing. They hunted lycans throughout the night and some say they even stood their ground against the werebear that has been terrorizing the area of late.
(http://i574.photobucket.com/albums/ss188/monsinyana2/elves_on_patrol1.jpg)
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Rumour has it the outlander merchant Suzannah Murphy was seen seeking sanctuary in the Elven villiage. Though human she seems to share a faith in their gods and speaks of being tired of the corruption of Vallaki , a fact exasperated by the recent promotion of Elton Belovich, who is publicly known to have been a corrupt lackey of the Caliban Crimelord Vasille .
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Rumor has it that the werebear that has been in the forest is no more. As the days pass by its tracks start to disappear and no fresh ones come back. The elves start to brief a short live sigh of relief. It's one less problem.
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Rumor of a strange man with pointy hat and skull light lamp, digging around tree and buried dead bodies
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[Those who hunt within the caves for beast and herb alike, may find as they stumble into the wolves den rather dark sketchings along the walls. Who would make such horrifying images none can say, but rumors fill the air of the cave being haunted with the screams of a banshee in the late nights]
(http://i40.tinypic.com/2hqbfxf.jpg)
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Rumor had it that a dead vallaki garda came back to terrorize and kill the elves of Degannwy.
Rumor also has it that even though the elves mourn for those lost, they are in celebration. Rumor has it that spirit of the dead garda has been taken care of thanks to the Wayfarer Kinship and a member of the Church of Erza.
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Rumor spreads that a woman was found within a close distance of Vallaki in the southern forest, naked. It is said that this is a priestess of the sun cultists. Harsh rumors spread of their rituals and practices.
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A sudden vortex struck the southern grove just east of Vallaki , leaving in its wake destruction wrought by tainted elementals.
Those that walk the way of the forest, the healers, the mystics, the guardians can feel the life being sapped from the surrounding land, and its only getting stronger
A great force has acted against nature
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Rumors spread that in the southern part of the Luna River just past the old barracks lays a "Verbreker Enclave" set up as a safe site from the plague spreading across the land.
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A tall blond man, clad in green and white shades of Ezrite Church can be frequently seen patrolling the southern woods of Vallaki during the cold Barovian nights.
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[Grim rumor comes to be reality - off the road through the southern forest there stand grisly sights of people who have given up on starving and trying to wait out this shortage of food. Small groups of men, women, the old, the sick, and even their children have taken it upon themselves to end their own suffering. Some with poison, some with knives, most with hempen rope - their bodies hanging like macabre wind chimes, bumping into one another... how much longer will this be until something changes.]
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A barovian man returns from he forest with quite a tale; he had gone out there to hang himself from the branches, only to be cut down by a mysterious man in full iron armor, who gave him a loaf of bread and ushered him back inside the city and instructed him to work at killing the natural predators of deer and boar and bring in their harvest.
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A barovian man returns from he forest with quite a tale; he had gone out there to hang himself from the branches, only to be cut down by a mysterious man in full iron armor, who gave him a loaf of bread and ushered him back inside the city and instructed him to work at killing the natural predators of deer and boar and bring in their harvest.
//OOC:
Unless this happened under the supervision of a DM, this didn't happen. Remember you are not allowed to emote for areas or npcs in these things, that is what the staff does. As a player you can emote about your doings, but not reactions to it. "Some say a man went into the woods to check out what all this suicide business is about." Things like that are appropriate from your end.
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[As the bodies hang and decay, the ravens pick away at their flesh. One particular raven favoring the eyes of its prey, leaving the skulls sockets empty and hollow]
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[Anyone out in the southern forests at night may have seen a man wrapped in dark clothing hunting what little of the wildlife that remains. Curious enough he doesn't seem to be harvesting the flesh of his prey after he kills them, Instead he is lighting the carcasses of the animals on fire... No one knows for sure but it seems as if this man is trying to make sure the famine continues.]
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[Night seems to perpetuate in the woods, in the deep woods where dark blackness blooms. But there is a very unusual sound in the woods today as the wind sweeps threw the trees blowing mist and the leaves every which way. There is a grating sound, the twisting of a rope holding far too much weight. Something dead beats against the old tree, pushed by the wind perpetually. A long auburn braid cascades down her hair. And sways. A woman is seen in the misty background of the southern woods, it looks like her death was hanging. Her neck is bruised in death and her face is torn with what seems to be agony her last few moments. Her feet are stiff with no shoes on, and she is wearing a cheap looking dress with a pearl necklace. This woman has the uncanny face of a certain garda though much older. And tall, like her daughter. Much more refined. Larger wolves seem to have taken the dead woman's left foot. There is a terrible sweet scent of decay.]
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Many are talking about the constant howling of last night, coming from the southern forest. Rumors about a man being attacked by a beast circulate.
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Mutilated animal corpse have been found in the southern forest, they say a beast have passed and killed everything on his way.
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A strange rune has been carved into many trees along the path through the woods. Rich amber sap bleeds into the angular cuts and drips down along the trunks.
Though most would simply pass the symbols off as way-markers etched by woodsmen or wandering druids, those with a wild imagination might entertain the thought that it represents something more sinister...
(http://i.imgur.com/TdrCSfN.gif)
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[Howling in the southern forests south from the safety of the walled town of Vallaki gave way to the devastation of wildlife. Animals were found butchered, but not consumed in what appeared to be an attack based on emotion, particularly anger. In one of the larger trees, displayed what appeared to be a word carved into its bark with a bloody pawprint not far away]
MÆSTEADULPH
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Any markings of the Wolf God found in the Southern Forests would be found with the bark stripped away, as if removed by the claws of some great beast, leaving little trace of what once was there. The bellows of a huge bear echo out into the night, a roar of both fury, and sorrow.
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Deep in the forest this full moon night, far from the travel-worn trail and the rain-slick battlements of Vallaki, came a cacophony of small explosions followed by a baritone rumble. Keen eyes would have witnessed the brief flash of vermilion in the south-western reaches of the woods, four score paces east of the ruined outpost.
Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary at the site, but for a few fallen boulders and recently-turned earth.
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Seemingly overnight, a series of primitive warnings daubed onto tanned hides have been nailed into the hides of elderly oaks scattered throughout the secluded depths of the Southern Woodlands.
(http://i.imgur.com/4qEQYZO.jpg)
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A grisly sight is seen by those traversing the woodlands south of Vallaki this morning. Near the lakeshore, a man was found pinned to a tree with a spear, through the stomach. The weapon was firmly driven into the trunk of a giant fir, and the victim was evidently just barely alive. Those setting out to hunt from the forest road witnessed a band of adventurers collecting the nearly dead man, and ushering him off to receive attention for his wounds...
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Rumors of candle light shimmering off the lake in the Southern Forest spread. Those who talk about it mention a vigil for the recently departed Dawn Mother, however, more mention that night after night, the lights remain. A few who have been by to investigate report that a humble structure has been erected, with a clear sign denoting the Church of the Creator. Any who come by can often see a large man knelt in prayer at the lake's edge, and another man dressed in robes tending the grounds. Often guests come by, and their foot prints begin to leave a trail to and from the the make shift perish.]
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/378677301707014164/392573178213433344/unknown.png)
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A pair of elves bury nine fallen cousins in the dead of night, beneath unmarked graves, with sombre faces and sullen words spoken through a veil of vengeance over their remains. One, a sorcerer of restrained power pledges oath to return to Degannwy and prevent future atrocities from occurring ever again. His oath witnessed by a blue elf in the night. The pair return to Degannwy after the grim deed is done, sore with grief and exhaustion.
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At the base of the Balinoks, nestled within the nook of the farmland surrounding Vallaki and the oppressive ascent of the peak, small tremors riddle the surface. The silt emits its malaise, quaking and rustling the branches and foliage of the dense forest, the echoes of dissonance reverberating through the lands. The cracking of branches underfoot and shambling, labored movements disturb the eerie silence in the forested area. The wildlife that normally is teeming throughout the thick wooded landscape has deserted and wind whistled through desolate flora.
Rumors stir, carried upon hushed whispers in darkened corners of the Grey City of an increased presence of imorţii near the Southern Forest, at the foot of the looming mountain range. With uncertainty of footing and steeling of resolve, many ventured close to return with reports of -something- that thickened the air with dread, stirred in the depths. In its wake, death and decay had taken residency. The macabre remnants of the unfortunate, foresters, woodsmen, and scouts, savagely slain. Their bodies barbarously ravaged by blade, tooth, and claw. Viscera, flesh, and entrails were scattered, sanguine blood suffusing into the grass and underbrush as the snow melted and dulled the vibrant hue a pale pink.
The Barovian elderly wordlessly mouth orisons while warding themselves, spitting warnings of horrors and ancient tales whilst pulling their garments and cloaks closer about their persons. Their auguries are corroborated by those that have ventured near the epicenter of the undulations of silt: the rising of gooseflesh upon even the most intrepid lends credence to the hushed whispers of concerns. A keening resounded from the depths of the mountains, a preternatural lamenting echoing in the ears of those who venture too close, chilling their spines and haunting their dreamscapes.
Still several emerged from the depths, covered in soot, saturated in blood, caked in viscera, and hefted a weighted, armored shell over a weary shoulder. The fetid stench of death clung to their forms and labored their steps. A pyre sparked to life and burned in the nearby hills, billowing smoke and spitting up ash that mingled with the snow in an unusual amalgamation of greyish flecks rising up and voluminous white flakes cascading down. The flames dwindled into embers, glowing briefly before being snuffed out on the horizon – the faint glow silenced as the frigid winds whipped through the foliage.
Silence descended upon the Southern Forest once more as figures disappeared into the distance, segregating and diverging their paths. The white-wash of snow cleansed the grass and flora of any trace of malignancy and all seemed to be as it once was – a distant fading memory, a desiccated tear of grief – the lands marched ever onward with irreverence of loss, the cycle of moon and sun unperturbed by inconsequential trivialities of mortality.
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Wanderers through the forests of Vallaki might see signs of clawmarks in trees, gutted animal carcasses strewn about... and the occasional reports of missing travelers. Bloody snarling wolf heads are carved into tree trunks, and gruesome trophies placed on trees. Day and night one might feel eyes watching in the forests, creatures roaming... hunting. At times, one might find the remnants of bloody and dark rites, often in a whole variety of chaotic ways. All of them only share one thing in common. A snarling wolfs head, scratched with blood presenta t all times.
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In the depths of the forest, a dreadful presence has begun to make its presence felt. Howls echo every night, loud and terrible, triumphant and powerful. People are snatched off roads, out of homes. Even the most simple of observers can tell the predators - werewolves. Particularly savage and fierce, these beasts have staked a claim in a cave within the woods, that they do not even bother to hide - the scent of dog, of blood and rotting flesh emanates from their lair. And each night, fresh blood is spilt to feed their hunger, over and over again. Carvings are left to the Wolf God, eyes taken from those who dare to hunt them. Arrogant and unchallenged, the beasts rampage through the woods unchecked...
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A macabre display is presented before the first row of trees to anyone trespassing the well outside the gates of Vallaki.
The southern forest mundanity has been disturbed with a show of several wolves torn apart and coldly decapitated. Whatever madman had the guts and the clarity of mind to make sure every head was stabbed into a tree branch and to challenge such a large force of ferocious animals did it with a clear purpose : to send a message. The trees are connected with a rope, the pelts and some of the wolves hung one after another as it was a butcher shop, should an early bird meet the macabre display they'd have the luck to see a few wolves whose heads were spared weeping to their death while they were left to bleed out, as if the purpose was in fact, to make them cry out for the entirety of the night.
An act of cruelty indeed, signed by a simple carved hand on a wolf's chest.
(https://i.postimg.cc/1tYgVnjf/Wolf.png)
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Dozens of strange, intricate patterns have begun to litter the mud and bare soil of the forest, often appearing at the base of rocks and trees or along the bank of the streams. To the experienced arcanist these markings bear no magical significance, yet there is something perhaps hypnotic about the patterns inscribed therein.
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A message, written in Elven, would be pinned to a tree by an arrow.
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/451249923648782338/556951267897769985/DegCTA.jpg)
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Shana left this note in Degannwy:
In Search of Elven Mentor
I am in search of an elven mentor to teach me how to weave arcane spells into my bowcraft. My name is Shana. I am a half elf bard, and am often found in or near the Sanctuary of the Coming Dawn in the outskirts west of Valliki. I should be easy to spot by my exotic dress and long blonde ponytail.
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Some of the discarded remains found in the forest recently have been given hurried burials, with excerpts from holy scriptures left nearby...
(https://i.imgur.com/9oGNn6z.png)
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[In the forests notices with strange runes on them may be found with no apparent translation to comonly known tongues]
A Gathering Called
As the leaves fall and the winter comes, let us prepare for the spring that may come. To all those who defend the natural world and have taken oaths as such are asked to gather together in the Sacred Grove. All who walk the path are welcome to convene and speak on the happenings of the land, to share wisdom between peers, and see to the health and guardianship of all living creatures so the land may flourish and renew itself evermore as the Cycle continues.
Discussion on the state of the land shared wisdom from those from all walks, and news regarding threats to the sacred balance shall be had.
May Our paths cross,
Creighton of the Northwood
https://www.timeanddate.com/countdown/generic?p0=234&iso=20191213T19&msg=Druid%20Meet%21 7 PM PST
//PM me or msg Chaoshawk#1337 on discord if interested
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[In the forests notices with strange runes on them may be found with no apparent translation to comonly known tongues]
A Gathering Called
As the leaves fall and the winter comes, let us prepare for the spring that may come. To all those who defend the natural world and have taken oaths as such are asked to gather together in the Sacred Grove. All who walk the path are welcome to convene and speak on the happenings of the land, to share wisdom between peers, and see to the health and guardianship of all living creatures so the land may flourish and renew itself evermore as the Cycle continues.
Discussion on the state of the land shared wisdom from those from all walks, and news regarding threats to the sacred balance shall be had.
May Our paths cross,
Creighton of the Northwood
https://www.timeanddate.com/countdown/generic?p0=234&iso=20191213T19&msg=Druid%20Meet%21 7 PM PST
//PM me or msg Chaoshawk#1337 on discord if interested
//In an hour ((Secluded Grove not Sacred Grove))
edit: A small note is left.
"The Gathering has been moved to Deganwwy."
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Local on lookers watch as mutilated bodies are removed from a battered home in the Residential District of Vallaki. Rumors circulate of a large black werewolf the locals have nicknamed "Blackpaw", as the sightings among the ever growing outlander population continue to persist. Barovians are seen hanging wolfsbane over their doors and nailing wooden boards across their thresholds, as fear begins to creep into the minds of the peasantry and serfdom...
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Birds fly about as a single gunshot rings throughout the otherwise silent forest.
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Bandit congregations have been found slain in various grotesque imageries as of late. Whomever is doing this is not simply claiming bounties, but tearing these men and women apart, leaving them with jagged knife wounds suggestive of a ritualistic indication.
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A lone elven man would've been seen frequenting the blighted section of the southern forest, tending to the tainted forest and cleansing it of some of it's blighted and crazed inhabitants. He would later on by joined by an elven woman deep within the forest, making their way to it's heart.
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A woman screaming threats at someone can be heard through the last night of the full moon. As she was screaming in a deranged way, telling the man to let her go or that she'd kill him, he was calmly and rather sympathetically yelling after her to stop running, and that she was not alright. The accents were heavily Barovian.
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Loud shouting of anger could be heard echoing in the forest and soon sounds of combat. All goes silent after a small while...
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Lights have danced recently in the southern parts of the lake in the woods, guiding those lost to a temporary respite - or perhaps luring them off the beaten path. Druidic runes have begun to appear at seemingly random places, carved into bark or whispered in the wind. The forest has grown watchful.
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A frenzy of Garda horns was sounded during the night in the forest. Loud shouting about death and gruesome torture rattled through it—chased out by a series of howling. A massive clash of armored figures and werecreatures proceeded on the forest floor, werewolves, wererats and vampires alike. In the end, a wounded, disheveled man was spotted being drug out by a massive white werewolf and through the gates of the municipality by the last minute of sunset...
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Druidic and sylvan runes appear in the Southern Forests again, carved onto trees, arranged as if by random into patterns of leaves bringing fell portents, easily scattered in the winds, its only memory living on in the chatter of small animals. One capable of reading both would recognize it as a message: a warning and a request of meeting. The symbol of a single oaken leaf accompanies each of the messages.
// messages also left in-game as marks in various locations.
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The smell of rot wafts on the wind as a disheartened wail echoes down from the mountains and through the forest's leaves. A sound long absent but all too familiar.
Something wicked this way comes...
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[In the wake of dawn, massive magical explosions echo out from the ruined tower in the Southern Woods. What seems to be a small militia unleashes wave after wave of fighters, each thinning out as the sunlight wanes and wanes. At dusk, sinister mist flows freely out of the tower and into the dead of the old night. The remaining living warriors then return, left behind to carry back dozens of bodies, arms, and mangled pieces in-between. Among the many fallen, one body remains unaccounted for in the carnage: the Morninglordian Light Carrier Arshtat Amakiir.]
(https://i.gyazo.com/77e01d46d3f7c3a4319721e84fd965b0.png)
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A red headed elven woman clad in rosy dawn and gold might been spotted along the River Luna. This woman was barely walking like almost crawling in the woods like a stray child. At times there were words coming from her, ragged and barely more than a whisper...it seemed the woman was desperately chanting something.
(https://i.imgur.com/b9nAAtj.jpg)
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Sometime during the night, footsteps could be heard approaching the banks of the River Luna. A paper is placed down by a woman, and a rock planted on top of it to keep it in place, the paper reads as follows:
To the degenerations of Chauntea's gift of life, the corruption of Malar, and his ilk!
To you, the Moon and Winter wolf, degeneracy of the Great Mother's blessing, I write to you. I will not stop until you are hunted down, and exterminated. Be fearful that every life you try to take, brings you closer to your ultimate fate: Death.
(https://i.imgur.com/Z3oyWV1.png)
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Sometime during the day, more footsteps could be heard approaching the banks of the River Luna. A paper is placed down by a woman, and a rock planted on top of it to keep it in place like the previous paper, the paper reads as follows:
Declaration of War
To the degenerations of Chauntea, your attempts on my life have failed, and I have returned to the hunt stronger, pray to Malar or whatever being you wish for for mercy, for I shall give you none.
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Screams of agony, enraged shouts and horrible cries of bereavement would haunt those passing through the southern forest in the dead of night in recent days, originating most likely from deeper within the dense forest.
Those paying heed would be able to discern the words being shouted and repeated over and over again:
"Silver! Musushuu!"
The shoutings would die out after a while only to return the following night.
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A lone shadow slinks about the southern forests in the night, leaving traces only skilled trackers would be able to discover. The shadows purpose unknown, though the tracks are more common in the deeper parts of the forest.
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At some point in the afternoon, footsteps can be heard approaching a familiar spot, and a note left, after the task is done footsteps can then be heard wondering off.
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/861490763052744724/996992703617323008/HM.JPG)
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A female ezrite warden and a man with a blue cloak entered the southren forest from the outskirts side, only for sounds of battle to be heard followed by a sudden silence...
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Travelers gifted with perceptive eyes would notice that a significant portion of Vallaki's southern forests has very subtly changed. Only the most keen of trackers and/or those who perhaps live in the wilderness would observe a certain unnatural pattern to the flora.
Groves are a tad more well-maintained. Berry bushes are somewhat tidied up. Tracks of both prey and predator alike are somewhat covered by moved soil and leaves. Animal scratches on the bark of trees are masked with man-made cuts. Every recent campfire is promptly dismantled and its remains safely disposed of. The sounds of animals are loud and proud, as if the local fauna is finally allowed to thrive a bit.
Needless to say, those able to observe all these subtle features would be correct to assume there is something or someone tending to the local woods.
Upon certain misty nights, sharp-eyed bypassers would spot a hooded figure resting at well-camouflaged camps in such forest.
(https://imgur.com/ylfOYQg.png)
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Observant individuals might notice a few trees cut down in the forest by the bank of the Luna River and the steady smoke of a campfire rising above the treeline. Heavy footprints of large boots travel across the mud, someone large is making camp on the wooded bank.
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/809828361358278707/1072717795835523152/image.png)
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After receiving a tip from a woman dressed in white, the elves do a regular patrol of the Southern Forests. As they approach the ruins near the river Luna, they discover evidence of what seems to be a necromantic ritual. Multiple skulls, body parts, a bowl of blood and a beheaded corpse. They also take notice of ash being used nearby. They would later report their findings in the elven settlement and spend many hours discussing the implications of such a sighting.
(https://i.postimg.cc/9XgD0QPb/20230215193232-1.jpg) (https://postimg.cc/Hj5YPHh8)
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In the middle of the night screams and pleas for mercy can be heard coming from the old ruined outpost before the area suddenly becomes eerily silent. There are no sightings of anyone leaving the outpost after some time.
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Strange rumours begin to spread of sightings of enraged forest spirits and creatures. Hushed whispers speak of blighted deer and walking trees in the southern forests. Locals seem to be avoiding the forest path, using the city roads instead.
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Animals lie dead and stripped of all fur. Even the smallest creatures butchered for their skin, their meat wastefully left behind. Tree stumps dot the forest having been chopped down and small, controlled burn piles billow smoke into the sky throughout the forest.
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A tall, hooded elf garbed in white armor could regularly been seen tending to some parts of the southern forests near Degannwy. Setting up animal feeders in some places to offer help to whichever small creatures might still roam the forests during the cold winter months.
Some symbols could be seen hanging from, or carefully carved into some of the trees as well. A promise to travelers that they are watched over
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/892518513468670015/1110575883388977324/latest.png)
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Those who wander the Southern Forest may hear the sound of soil being hewn and tilled throughout the day, the sounds of crackling fire none too far from the elf clearing the remnants of decay. Though the threat of Avalan has passed, it will take time for new life to take root in the soil of the Southern Forests.
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As the month of June begins, those traversing the Southern Forest at night may hear faint, distant, animalistic howls that eerily resonate in synchronization. Moreover, the number of slaughtered forest creatures starts to slowly increase.
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Some may have seen and passed by a halfling girl, wandering about in a small section of the southern woods along the road. She was scouring the ground all about the entire day, as if looking for something...
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Chanting, yelling, fighting can be heard throughout the night until noon the next day.. until the birds and quietness return.
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1113213148573474887/1127057170517725305/20230707201551_1.jpg)
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/486236706920726529/1127065023412453417/20230707203153_1.jpg)
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A goat-legged tiefling comes back to a ruined fort in the Southern woods. He can only assume the elves nearby stole his wood and destroyed his camp. He posts a notice outside the Autumn Grove:
(https://i.imgur.com/LXLqOaF.png)
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A goat-legged tiefling is seen rebuilding his camp in the Southern Forest. A sign is posted outside.
(https://i.imgur.com/AUq6oGd.png)
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Throughout the southern woodlands, a pair of wings are carved into various trees.
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A cave full of bandits are left utterly slaughtered as a two figures, one clad in black and another draped in red, turn over every stone in pursuit answers. None seemed to be had this night.
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A commotion during the night causes a stir of activity deep within the settlements of the southern woods. Whispers among the winds tell tale of a melancholic whistle predating the events of the evening.
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In the southern forest two figures, human at sight and in heavy armor one silvered and one golden, can be seen moving two corpses from in front of the entrance of Degannwy inside the settlement. One of them leave a note inside Nant Gaerwyn and at sight for everyone.
I seek audience with any autority of this village for talking about a situation that is occuring and seems a danger for you, is urgent.
I m leaving as well with this note, a declaration left for your settlement it was found in front of your gates.
If you want you can contact me leaving a letter at the Lady's Rest in the outskirts.
Gerald Arnoult, servant of Torm.
//left in game
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Upon the winding trajectory guiding one toward the southern woodlands, the meandering path reveals a subtle deviation, where the dancing glow of torches delicately discloses the existence of a camp.
Unassuming and devoid of elaborate fortifications, this enclave is marked by modest wooden barriers demarcating its boundaries. Within this encampment, a scattering of tents unfolds, accompanied by a central table and a sparse collection of weapon racks adorned with arms.
The unmistakable insignia proclaiming its allegiance reads, "The Obsidian Claw."
(https://i.postimg.cc/j54gg6n4/Obsidian-Claw-Camp.webp)
... However ...
Throughout the nocturnal hours, echoes of conflict reverberate as warbands engage in fierce clashes, lending an unsettling symphony to the silent night.
At dawn's revelation, the landscape bears the grim testimony of this violent encounter, its soil marred by the macabre residue of blood and gore, sporadic armaments strewn as poignant artifacts of the tumult.
Curiously untouched by the chaos that befell the periphery, the camp maintains an eerie tranquility, if it wasn't for a foreboding token that manifests in the form of decapitated head impaled upon a rack, its dark silhouette casting a shadow upon the scene. An enigmatic note accompanies this harbinger, its contents shrouded in mystery.
In the ensuing day, the Company was seen meticulously disassembling and packing its belongings. A departure steeped in purpose, the reasons behind which remain veiled in secrecy.
(https://i.postimg.cc/HkSBysDB/20240125210613-1.jpg)
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The last few nights have found themselves rather tireless, as shouts, discussions, and bonfires burn outside of Degannwy...
(https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/859648698619002882/1200858092255051796/ey.JPG?ex=65c7b540&is=65b54040&hm=6801469c9a6469533c6e328f3b6317c69797c32e4f99d8d730952259209d779b&)
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In the early morning, one would find bodies of wolves and deers skinned alike. Surrounding them would be signs of battle, bodies of were' creatures and humanoids alike. All of which, have been skinned as well. Whatever or Whoever did this was brutal to nature, man, and the unnatural alike.