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current_events [2025/01/30 14:10]
titania 		current_events [2025/11/11 13:48] (current)
titania
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 +**11/06/2025**\\
 +Following the recent Shadow City ban on Kitsune, tensions have begun to rise within Antioch. Reports surfaced of a dark-furred Kitsune spotted within the city, sparking widespread rumor and unease. In response, Captain of the Guard Saraeiel Row-Sorrow issued an official statement declaring the Kitsune known as Haku banned from Antioch. The captain stated that Haku had been evading Shadow's justice by exploiting Antioch's laws—an act that would not be tolerated under any circumstance. Furthermore, due to a series of incidents involving Kitsune within Antioch's borders over the years, the City Council has begun discussing a full ban on all Kitsune. Public support for this measure is significant, bolstered by the Church of the Undying Light, which claims such action would remove "one fleck of darkness" from within the borders of the Holy City. Meanwhile, Torm, Tabor, and Azha have turned their attention toward these developments. There is growing speculation that they may soon follow in the footsteps of Antioch and Shadow, enacting similar measures against the Kitsune in the days to come.
 +
 +
 +**11/02/2025**\\
 +Heavily armored and armed dispatches have been reported to have departed Antioch after reports that an unknown figure was admitted to the city and then granted an audience with Se
 +
 +
 +**10/31/2025**\\
 +A new announcement has been posted on the Arcane Bulletin Board of Shadow: The Council of Merchants has reviewed the growing concerns and public outcry regarding the child-stealing creatures known as Kitsune. In the interest of the city's safety and stability, the following decree has been enacted and is effective immediately: Kitsune are hereby banned from the City of Shadow. Lawlessness will not be tolerated. Monsters who deceive, manipulate, and prey upon others for selfish gain have no place within our walls. --Shadow Mercantile Council
 +
 +**10/29/2025**\\
 +**Update from Torm:** The reconstruction of Torm is well underway, aided by countless hands that have come together for a single cause. Cevahirans, Jarmilans, Lysarans, and numerous independent groups all offered their help, setting aside differences of faith and race to rebuild what was lost. The Torm Rebuilding Fund is being directed toward restoring key infrastructure and providing new homes for those displaced by the disaster. Even the Queen herself was seen working alongside her people, a sight that rekindled hope and strengthened morale during such dark times. Now, the waters have receded, the streets no longer drown beneath their weight, and a fragile but growing sense of normalcy has returned to Torm once more.
 +
 +**Update from Tabor:** In the aftermath of the Battle of Tabor, the city remains under strict surveillance for any signs of renewed infernal activity. The nobility has united in support of the Crimson Templars, the Tabor Guard, and the citizens who lost their lives during the devil incursion. King Cirillo has confirmed that an ongoing investigation is in progress. However, due to the sensitive nature of the events, most details remain closely guarded. The lack of public information has left many citizens uncertain, though they take solace in the visible aid and reconstruction efforts across the city. Even so, a quiet wariness lingers in Tabor—its people watch the horizon carefully, wary of what the coming days may bring.
 +
 +**10/26/2025**\\
 +Tragic news has reached Tabor from the depths of the Tsarven Empire as rear elements of the Rose Crusade were ambushed at the oasis of Aliki’Tah. The news has hit Tabor especially hard, as it is said General Alenith of the Tabor Thorns, along with over a hundred sons and daughters of Tabor, fell defending the settlement. It is expected that a route for reinforcements and supplies will be arranged, but the city is in mourning and waits for news and remains.
 +
 +**10/20/2025**\\
 +The law has come to Port Serith. With continued investment and support, Serakii continues to grow. Rumors of newly unearthed history of the island—found by adventurers in the lair of the blue dragon—seem to have invigorated the Council of Builders, and the city has unveiled a new law complex. The complex includes a jail, offices for the local magistrate for questioning suspects, and future plans to further encourage adventurer support on the island.
 +
 +**10/07/2025**\\
 +Talks over the place of the mysterious Delombre in elven culture appear to have come to an end. Though the moon and wood elves have chosen to support their kin, it is unsurprising that the sun elves of Selu'Havisthor declined to even acknowledge their existence as elves. More unexpectedly, Ashta'Rathai has opened its arms wide, leading some to suspect that deeper machinations may be at work on behalf of the Ice Island elf-kin.
 +
 +**9/11/2025**\\
 +At dawn, when the shadows stretch longest across the horizon—moments before they rise up to swallow the light whole—Antioch stands frozen, caught in the breath between night and day, as the Undying Light takes its first true step. No longer whispers in alleyways, no longer rumor and hearsay—they have come. They will cleanse Antioch entire, and from its ashes spread their doctrine. There will be no excuses. Only death. In the heart of the city, the Nimble Thimble has been cordoned off by the Antioch City Guard, declared an active crime scene under investigation. The people now turn to the Captain of the Guard, awaiting answers.
 +
 +**9/11/2025**\\
 +A new notice has been posted in Shadow. The Council of Merchants has declared the release of the first Bulletin of Trade and Affairs. This bulletin will provide the most current information regarding all guilds operating within Shadow that comprise the Council, along with any notes and updates relevant to the city’s business owners. All details can be found on the Shadow Arcane Bulletin Board.
 +
 +**9/11/2025**\\
 +News out of Tabor suggests that the isolationists are on the move. Two retinues of gold elves, one from Selu'Havesthyr and the other from Ashta'Rathai, have been noted passing through and paying their respects to the royalty on their way to Synoria. At the same time, the druids and rangers of the south have identified unusual movements from the elves of Tharis Forest; they claim that something has them in an uproar and that they intend to trek north for some kind of elfmeet, as in ages past. Those in the know might have also heard that the Kilkean elves of Akerton are making their way southwest—and it doesn’t take the brains of a knowledge cleric or a diviner to suspect these things may be related.
 +
 +**9/03/2025**\\
 +An Official Notice from the Council of Six — Posted in all major districts of Seneca. In light of the ongoing disappearances within the city, the Council of Six has appointed Mistress Jayce Al'Szemi, esteemed head researcher on Memory, to lead the investigation into these events. Effective immediately, Mistress Al'Szemi has been granted political immunity for the duration of the investigation, a measure deemed necessary due to the elusive nature of the culprit, who remains at large despite continued efforts. Any formal complaints or concerns regarding this appointment are to be directed to Captain Cadohn Brighthorne, who will serve as the point of contact for this matter. The Council assures the people of Seneca: the culprit will be brought to justice.
 +
 +**9/01/2025**\\
 +News spreads from Tharis regarding a threat to their way of life. In taverns and inns from Tabor to Azha to Shadow, the Order of Midnight stalks. But what is their target? Some say it is a rogue undead that gained sentience. Others claim an escaped experiment from Tenebrosa. Still more claim that the Tharisians are simply beginning what they started years ago—a social cleansing of renegade elven elements, as with the House Rilynath. Whatever it is, it can’t be long until their problems end up on our doorsteps.
 +
 +
 +**8/18/2025**\\
 +The ceremony to induct the Voice was interrupted by an attack that killed most of the candidates. In the ensuing battles, the defender of the island, the dragon Vasha, was killed. The Black Tower was destroyed, and the government thrown into turmoil. It is said that the same night the mysterious tower southeast of Carmorth flashed with a golden light, but recent attacks on that settlement caused most to ignore the news.
 +
 +
 +**8/5/2025**\\
 +Christof Miller, owner of the Rooks Rest and Councillor of Port Serith, has posted the following: “The government of Port Serith welcomes and congratulates the Voice on their upcoming growth. We look forward to a stronger government that can continue to push the darkness from our shores. In coordination with their growth, Port Serith welcomes Cecileia Rhes as a full councillor. Cecile speaks with Kyra and I’s blessing as our protector, diplomat, and equal. Adventurers have made Serakii what it is today, and we know that with Cecile's leadership we will continue to thrive.”
 +
 +
 +**8/2/2025**\\
 +Mordecai Lamoch, current sole member of the Voice, has issued a proclamation: “After much reflection on the past years of success and growth here in our beloved island, discussions with the government of Port Serith, our mercenary conclave, and our partners in the Sanguine Shield, I have decided it is time to rebuild the Voice. Already representatives from faiths across the realm have been nominated to this august body. Upon its reformation I will be resigning and retiring from my role and from the government. My love for this land and its people endure but it is time for new voices to face the chaos and darkness that still darken our horizon.”
 +
 +
 +**6/15/2025**\\
 +Word spreads after information is leaked from the upper reaches of Tharisian power. Reports have surfaced that Balur Black and Maenoh Black have been missing for several months—perhaps even longer. What could this mean for Tharis and the City of Monsters?
 +
 +
 +**6/10/2025**\\
 +The Colosseum roars again—blood and glory in Shadow. The Golden Gate Gauntlet approaches, hosted by the Consortium of the Ninth Tally, financiers of war, tradition, and unseen doctrines. They invite warriors, champions, and the daring to test their worth before the veiled eyes of the city. Three contests shall decide who ascends: 1v1—skill against skill, a single step between victory and defeat. 2v2—coordination and betrayal whispered by the same breath. 3v3—when the dust rises and the blood thickens, only cohesion remains. Magic is permitted in full, and the Shadow mage’s tower has warded the Colosseum against the arcane to ensure the safety of all spectators. All weapons and armor will be provided on site, standardized and balanced for fair combat, including clothing and options for light, medium, and heavy armor. A wide selection of non-enchanted weaponry will be available for selection prior to each match. Use of any non-issued gear or enchanted equipment will result in immediate disqualification. All bouts are conducted until a single combatant—or team—remains standing. Mercy is permitted. Victory’s reward: The Golden Laurels, the mark of an undisputed champion, and inscription upon the Monolith of Champions, your name etched into eternal stone. To enter: in-character, present yourself to the Colosseum Secretary and sign the Ledger of Blades. OOC, send an avatarmail stating your intent to participate and which category you choose. When gold sings, blades answer. When names are carved in stone, they are never truly forgotten. Step forward. Let Shadow remember you.
 +
 +
 +**5/31/2025**\\
 +I don’t know what time it started—just that I was jolted from sleep by the sound of the first explosion. Then a second. Then a third. Each one louder than the last, shaking the walls of my home. I ran to the window and saw the skies over the warehouse district lit in red. Not lantern fire. Not any fire I’ve seen. It burned too high, too fast. And the screaming had already started. The streets filled with people. Some fled. Some tried to help. I couldn’t move. Just watched as shadows twisted through the flames—inhuman shapes, all fangs and horns and hate. Devils. Real ones. I saw the Crimson Templars arrive first, weapons drawn, shields raised. Then came the priests of Jarmila and the Kismeti. All of them ran toward the fire. The worst of it happened near the third warehouse. A pit fiend—gods help us—taller than any creature has a right to be. Wings like molten iron. A voice that made the stones shake. That’s where I saw them: Templar Kiralle and a priestess I later heard called Rella. They stood against it. Kiralle struck first—brave fool. Her blade landed true, but it wasn’t enough. The fiend cut her down in a single blow. I thought it was over. But Rella didn’t run. She became fire. I don’t mean that in a poetic way. She became it. Wings of flame erupted from her back. Her voice rang like a bell forged in the sun. And then—light. Heat. I had to turn away. When I looked again, the fiend was gone. Ash on the wind. The Kismeti had formed a barrier around her, around all of it, holding back the fire she unleashed. Without it, I think Tabor would be cinders. They carried Rella away after. She looked… broken. Burned from the inside out. They took her to the Temple of Jarmila. No word yet on whether she’ll survive. I still smell sulfur when I breathe. Still hear the screams. The town is quiet now. Too quiet. We lived, somehow. But we all know this isn’t over. Not really. We’ve seen what waits on the other side of the veil. And now, I think, it’s seen us too. -- The Tabor News
 +
 +
 +**4/24/2025**\\
 +Amidst the chaos swallowing Torm, the Queen steps into the city—not in royal regalia, but in worn leathers and work gloves. She gives no speeches, makes no grand declarations. Instead, she digs through rubble with her own hands, aiding in the rescue of the trapped and wounded. From the outskirts to the ravaged shoreline, she moves with quiet determination, returning over the next few days to continue her work among the people. Eventually, she makes a brief appearance near the Park of Torm, where a makeshift infirmary has been established. There are no theatrics—just a few grounded words to those gathered before she returns to the castle to manage the chaos among the nobility. Her presence lingers in the hearts of the people long after she departs. The impact is immediate. Her actions speak louder than politics ever could. Fear and uncertainty begin to lift, replaced with a growing sense of unity and morale. The people saw their Queen not above them, but beside them—and in that, they find the strength to begin healing. The Queen issued a formal proclamation on Torm's public board.
 +
 +**4/12/2025**\\
 +Screams. Desperation. Pain. Citizens of Torm stand frozen in disbelief as a tsunami looms on the horizon. Death has come. The wave crashes, and the city is left in ruin. The port is gone, homes reduced to rubble, and the streets run red. Hundreds are confirmed dead, and many more remain missing. Torm will never be the same. In the wake of destruction, there are already plans to rebuild, and to fortify the city against any future disasters—defensive measures to stand against waves like the one that just devastated the coast. Chaos reigns, but from it, a voice rises. An announcement echoes through the city as the Queen declares: "We have faced disaster before and survived. We will face it yet again and rise above. We are Torm. We are One People. I will find out who did this and bring them to justice."
 +
 +**4/10/2025**\\
 +Twelve souls have vanished in the past few weeks, leaving behind no trace. An official statement has been issued, now pinned to the board post of Seneca. The nights are no longer as safe as one might have hoped. Is it the undead horde, creeping ever closer? Or is it something else? Something more sinister... Blood. Gore. Entrails. The lower districts of Tharis drowned in it. Monsters tore through the streets in a mindless rampage, slaughtering each other, ripping limb from limb. Friend or foe—no distinction was made. Just pure, unrestrained violence. The street was paved in red. In the aftermath, as the Guard re-established control, an official statement was released by Lady La’Virenna: Obedience is non-negotiable. The Wheels of Fate have Spun.
 +
 +**3/17/2025**\\
 +Word travels fast—especially with the Extravagant Boars Headquarters so close to Shadow. A massive explosion erupted from within the saloon, consuming a good portion of the patronage in fire and ruin—the result of a failed assassination attempt on River, the owner of the establishment. Today is a day of mourning. A day of loss. The stench of brimstone still clings to the air, thick and acrid, a lingering ghost of destruction as reparations begin—a slow process, spanning days to mend what was broken.
 +
 +**3/4/2025**\\
 +Lysaran Spring Equinox Festival - Fate’s Crossing: In the wake of rising tensions and growing unease, Torm has drawn together its smaller, more private celebrations into a grand festival—a tribute to prophecy, fate, and new beginnings. This is a time of fortunes told, deals struck, and friendships forged. Visitors from all walks of life are invited to participate in the revelry, whether by seeking guidance from seers, bartering at the bustling trade stalls, or simply embracing the moment. The festival will culminate in the historical dance at the Lysara temple west of Torm, where fate’s threads are woven in steps and movement beneath the open sky. Come to watch, dance, divine, decorate, or simply enjoy the spectacle. Whether you seek truth, trade, or trouble, the festival welcomes all—though fate favors the patient.
 +
 +**2/15/2025**\\
 +A violent scuffle erupted just east of Tharis—three members of House Black clashed against… something. But the whispers in the streets fail to capture exactly what they faced. Then, without warning, reality itself fractured. Three buildings—erased. Not destroyed, not burned, not reduced to rubble—just... gone. As if they had never existed at all. No explosion. No sound. No lingering scent of fire or decay. Nothing. And yet, the aftermath was undeniable. The once-mighty members of House Black lay scattered across the pavement like bloodied ragdolls, their bodies battered, their presence reduced to a mere afterthought in the face of something far greater. And there, amidst the devastation, lay the corpse of a woman. Who was she? What happened here? There’s only one way to find out… but some truths are better left buried.
 +
 +**2/13/2025**\\
 +Along the cost near Torm, a villa was attacked and destroyed by faithful of Jarmila and Lysara. The entire structure was razed to the ground and clergy were seen sanctifying the ground.
 +
 +**2/04/2025**\\
 +A small fleet left Tharis and vanished into a cloud of mist... Only to be seen again several days later on a return journey from some place... What could have happened? Where could they have gone? Either way, the small fleet had docked once more at Tharis.
 +
 +**1/30/2025**\\
 +The void that once enveloped the Violet’s room flickers—a brief shimmer in the fabric of existence—before vanishing entirely. But the room does not return. It's left a perfect spherical carving of where the room should've been.
 +
 **1/29/2025**\\ **1/29/2025**\\
 In the dead of night, something unspeakably grotesque transpired in the foyer of the Sceptre of Knowledge. A woman arrived under the cloak of darkness. Bronze-skinned, brown-eyed, clad in layered shades of crimson, and—for some reason—turtle sheaths strapped to her. She carried a shipment. There was no record of any such delivery. Yet, she insisted. And with a deliberate, echoing slap upon the crate, it unmade itself—collapsing into pieces, revealing something horrific. A man stood frozen in place. Rigid. Unmoving. His expression locked in a silent delight, eyes unfocused, yet filled with ecstasy. A paintbrush rested in his grip, mid-stroke, as though time had abandoned him. And then, the true horror. His blood coursed through the canvas, draining from his body, swirling into streaks of crimson before surging back into his veins—an unholy cycle of life and death, artistry and suffering. An eternal loop of creation fueled by his own essence. The room fell into a stunned, breathless silence. Then—a sudden gasp. The artist still lived. Everyone was ordered to step back. No one dared interfere. The authorities had yet to decide what to do with this grotesque shrine of flesh and torment. And the woman who delivered this perverse masterpiece? She has a name. Tatianna. Deputy of River. Employed by the Extravagant Boars Mercenary Company. She walked in. Left her nightmare behind. And vanished into the night. In the dead of night, something unspeakably grotesque transpired in the foyer of the Sceptre of Knowledge. A woman arrived under the cloak of darkness. Bronze-skinned, brown-eyed, clad in layered shades of crimson, and—for some reason—turtle sheaths strapped to her. She carried a shipment. There was no record of any such delivery. Yet, she insisted. And with a deliberate, echoing slap upon the crate, it unmade itself—collapsing into pieces, revealing something horrific. A man stood frozen in place. Rigid. Unmoving. His expression locked in a silent delight, eyes unfocused, yet filled with ecstasy. A paintbrush rested in his grip, mid-stroke, as though time had abandoned him. And then, the true horror. His blood coursed through the canvas, draining from his body, swirling into streaks of crimson before surging back into his veins—an unholy cycle of life and death, artistry and suffering. An eternal loop of creation fueled by his own essence. The room fell into a stunned, breathless silence. Then—a sudden gasp. The artist still lived. Everyone was ordered to step back. No one dared interfere. The authorities had yet to decide what to do with this grotesque shrine of flesh and torment. And the woman who delivered this perverse masterpiece? She has a name. Tatianna. Deputy of River. Employed by the Extravagant Boars Mercenary Company. She walked in. Left her nightmare behind. And vanished into the night.
current_events.1738246235.txt.gz · Last modified: 2025/01/30 14:10 by titania

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