18 Marpenoth 1500 DR
FORT HELM - An orc herald accompanied by banner-wielding orcs arrived at Fort Helm today and announced in near-perfect Common: “I am Guhrrak, War Speaker to the six tribes represented by these banners held high. Know this: We bring war and death to the hobgoblins and their dragon masters on behalf of the Zhentarim of Darkhold. We do not challenge the Dragon of
Cormyr. We make no claim on the Tunlands.”
Then at least one thousand orcs made their presence known on the hills overlooking the fort by snarling battle cries, banging weapons against shields, and blowing “howl horns” whose ominous sound carried beyond Fort Helm as far as the High Road.
OLD AXE - Merchants are finding a ready market among the miners of Old Axe.
The miners are trading uncut rubies and spinels for winter goods (blankets, foodstuffs, books, and spirits, amongst other things) to carry their families over to next season. A handful of trusted merchants have Crown contracts to deliver iron ore from Old Axe south to Greatgaunt and north to High Horn. The last of these merchants is scheduled to arrive on the last day of Marpenoth and depart on the second day of Uktar. A new rotation of guardian
War Wizards is scheduled to arrive on these merchant wagons, too.
The miners have made no secret of their displeasure over the uselessness of the current lot of
War Wizards, as well their hope that the new group will be skilled enough to confront the lurking dangers that inhabit the Old Axe mines. This will be the first year in at least a decade since the Warden of the Western Marches has failed to secure the services of a party of adventurers to explore the mines over the winter months and drive off or slay the Underdark threats that creep forth and lay in wait for unwary miners. Should the
War Wizards prove worthy, then mining is expected to slow, but not stop, once the winter snows blanket the region. Then no new visitors are expected until next year.
PRIAPURL - Alavandur Helgulkh, Holy Hand of Oghma, was attacked in broad daylight today.
His attackers left their swords in his body and disappeared into the city, leaving bystanders shocked and uncertain if they should assist the traveling priest for fear of being seen by watchers employed by the assassins. One assassin yelled “Die, false tongue! Lal-Yimmur take your soul!” before plunging their sword into the priest. Alavandur did not die on the spot. Instead, the skewered priest stumble-walked from the scene until a watch patrol encountered him.
He begged for aid, but unexpectedly vomited up a green gout of flesh-eating slime that melted the face, helm, armor and torso of the closest watchman. A second gout slew another watchmen before the survivors could gather wits enough to flee from the unfortunate priest. Alavandur, still in agony, found he could pull one of the blades from his body. It began to melt as soon as it landed on the ground, the whole of the blade covered not in blood but the same green slime that had erupted from his mouth. More watchmen attempted to fell the priest with crossbow bolts from a distance, but though he screamed in agony upon being struck, Alavandur found his feet and continued to the city gates, the bolts slowly melting off of and out of his body.
The priest was last seen exiting the gates of the city, five of the six blades still inside him.
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