Whispers in the Wind
18 Season of the Zephyr 1329 AE
There are rumors of a strange creature to the south. Not something of nature, but of darkness and not of this world. I plan to find it, discover its purpose, and if not who created it, then at least who controls it. I have seen the havoc beasts like the centaurs wreak, having been at the attack of Shaemoor Garrison. With only this broad information, I’ll have to scour the countryside for any further leads on this mysterious creature.
First I venture to the west of Shaemoor to document some of the more common animals and prevent false identification with a known beast. Western Divinity Dam is a prime nesting spot for the fierce looking River Drake, which display an unusually calm temperament while I photograph their eggs.
The Drake and Skale of the area have nearly destroyed the crawfish population making life quite hard for the local fishermen. If only there were something I could do! Alas, I’ve been sent into the field as merely a pair of eyes, only allowed to record what I observe. Still, I will contact my employer to see about becoming more involved with the citizens and their plight here. Maybe getting my hands dirty will flush out something bigger.
The Shaemoor Fields are full of Moas and Plains Wurm hatchlings with spiders having moved into the local apple orchard. I even manage to get a photo of a bear going for a picnic basket. Now where does that sound familiar?
Again, I feel awful for not helping the farmers with their problems, but the least I can do is prevent the bandits in the area from causing more trouble.
I follow the miscreants to their hideout in Bandithaunt Caverns, a name aptly supplied by the citizens of Shaemoor. I make my way through the cavern, scurrying from one side of the room to the other like a skritt looking for shinies. When I am eventually spotted, a bloodlust rises in me that I have never felt before. In my head, I hear the harsh grunts of an old man, as if he were the one swinging the heavy mace in my hand.
I finally reach one exit, only to be stopped by several powerful bandits stalking the area. Nearby are strange glowing grubs wriggling along the ground. I have heard rumors of a pit filled with these wurms, but that is far east of here. I shall have to investigate further as this could be a clue to the infestation of Shaemoor fields.
On my way back through the cavern, I run into trouble when I dart into a side area guarded by yet more powerful villains. They manage to knock me unconscious, but a kind soul stops to chase them off before any lasting harm can be done.
My rescuers clear a path for me through the room where I come upon a raised ledge and a man stammering that he is only a merchant.
I stay my hand and leave the coward to his own devices although I and my cohorts are the closest thing he’ll ever see to justice.
I venture upward through a side passage, coming out in the basement of a house near Dalin’s Pumping station. Although the house is empty, it is surrounded by bandits. The fiends! What do they have planned that requires them to gather so closely to the city reservoir?
Night begins to close in. I manage to fight my way through the bandits guarding the road. I must make it to Divinty’s Reach to report my findings to…Someone with authority. Even if it’s the queen, herself!
As I rush up the main road of Shaemoor, I become distracted by the cemetery. It was almost like a strange presence was calling me. Unfortunately, aside from the bats, the only soul I come upon was the cemetery man, Dumpy, who seems a bit off.
Or is it that he is sensitive to the energy in the area? Can he truly talk to the dead? There is word of a ghost, a Lady in White, that comes out at night here.
She first appears in front of the grave Violet Traipse, a long dead immigrant of Ascalon. Dead by the year 1320, she managed to get to Shaemoor before the Kralkatorrik’s Dragonbrand scarred her homeland. Still, she must have been a fugitive of the war with the charr. It is a shame I can not meet her this night as she may have been able to shed light upon what is happening in the south.
My aimless wandering through the cemetery pays off in the discovery of a cave carved into the cliff behind the boneyard. The walls are slick and the air damp and cool from the small stream that runs down through a manmade grate off into a vast cavern below. Voices and scuffling echo eerily up from beyond the diverted water flow. Further into the cavity, I come upon a large wooden door through which a muffled conversation can be heard. With shaking hand, I prepare to knock upon the splintered wood.
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