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Heard in Haven: January 1999
 Title: Prominent Citizen Missing It's been noticed that Madame Rajan, owner of the Pantheon Tavern, has been missing for a few days. Her servants say she visited the Pasha in the Atesh-Gah, and never returned. When asked about her disappearance, the Pasha had only the following to say: "Madame Rajan has taken upon herself to seek her path towards the will of Khalid Atar. To this end, she has sequestered within the Atesh-Gah." The Pasha will make no further comments, claiming he wishes to perserve the Madame's privacy.  Title: Atesh-Gah Security Those who might notice such things will notice that, especially of late, the guard around around Atesh-Gah seems stepped up. Where there were once only two of the Varati guardsmen at the gates, there are now often four, and should anyone dare to peek inside, they will find a larger number stationed and patrolling within. Those who are not Varati, summoned by someone within Atesh-Gah, or one of Khalid Atar's chosen will not be able to get past those guards, and trying will no doubt prove hazardous to the health. Title: Life in the Woods The drums and flutes play in the forests of the Sylvans. Tribal differences are put aside as the greater threat builds outside the domains of the tribes. War parties move swiftly through the trees, moving closer and closer to the borders, creating large camps near the tribal homes of the border lands. Shapers work long hours, creating more weapons of wood and stone. Those that are not warriors spend many long days ferrying supplies to and from the front. Whole tribes end up near ghosts as their people say good-byes and move off to protect the Grandmother. Title: A Tale to be Told Parchment is posted in various places throughout Haven, in the common written language: "Bards and Skalds, tale-tellers and tale-lovers, performers and watchers, speakers and listeners, I invite you to come to the Rialto to enjoy in a tale most finely woven that has been passed down by many. Varati strongly encouraged to come, for it is in dedication to them that this tale will be told and performed in thanks for my life. The tale in itself is an old one, past lives and ravens, as not to cause controversy, it holds nothing to do with any of the blessed races. Time to be announced. As for now, though, feel free to drop by my studio and gallery by the name of Elysium on Main and Vicina, just outside the Rialto, for story or perhaps to commision a piece of artwork or enjoy those already there..." Title: A Moment in Thyme Two residents of Bordertown chance upon each other in the street, and pause a moment to survey the hanging of a new sign over a shop which has long been part of the neighborhood. "That's old Fireflower's place, isn't it? The herb-seller?" "Aye, it was. I hear tell she's decided to give up the shop to someone younger. Her grandchildren finally convinced her it was time, after that fall she took last summer." "So who's going to run the place now?" "Another Sylvan woman, but younger. Rumor has it she's a Delphi-trained healer." "Oh, come on. If she was in Delphi, what's she doing running a little herb shop out here?" "I didn't invent the rumor, don't look at me..." Title: Civitas Dei Under Siege! The Empyrean merchant's wings flutter nervously as he scurries around his Rialto tailoring booth. It's a flurry of activity with little being accomplished. Items go flying into one satchel only to be dumped out moments later and put in another. Arriving at the booth, a wealthy artisan's wife stops and blinks several times. "Sir! Whatever are you doing? I am here for the fitting as you requested..." Trailing off, the matronly woman peers oddly at the flustered merchant. "Oh dear, oh dear... Haven't you heard?!?" Stopping in the middle of his booth with things in complete disarray, the merchant stares at the woman with a wild-eyed gaze. Growing irritated, the woman stomps her foot while giving a shake of her wings. "Come on man, out with it? What's going on?" "Civitas Dei is under siege!" The merchant's voice rises to a horrified shriek as he glances nervously past the woman toward one of the Varati food stalls in the distance. Eyes widening, the woman stares at the man, then furrows her brow in an angered frown. "That is not the type of thing to jest about, sir. If you would prefer my business go elsewhere..." "NO! I'm serious, Domina!" The merchant gesticulates wildly as he relates what he knows, "My wife's sister's husband's cousin's son was there and saw the black cloud of the Varati beasts flying towards our fair city!" Raising a hand to his mouth, he bites his knuckles, "It's all going to fall! We're doomed!" Spinning, he once more resumes his futile effort to pack. Glaring at the man, the woman storms off only to hear the rumor several more times from other acquaintances. Determined to find out the truth of the matter, the woman goes to the Praetorian Guard only to find dozens of people already had the same idea. Unable to reach an answer there, she turns to the city's Heralds and learns that they are as swamped with requests for information as the Praetorians. The scattered merchant must have been correct...
Title: There's Nothing to See Here In the wake of the rumor regarding the attack on and siege of Civitas Dei, the Palladium has been the recipient of many panicked demands. All demands are being answered in the same way: "The rumor of an attack on Civitas Dei is just that, a rumor. We have had no break in communications from the city herself, and no reason to believe that there is any truth to the words garnered from an unknown source. If there were a crisis of this magnitude, certainly the Palladium would have made that information public in an official manner, not by seeding the Rialto with fears and falsities." The Praetorian Guards at the Palladium will continue to assuage concerns from those both inside and outside the Palladium to the best of their ability. Title: Overheard Conversation... Just south of the Rialto one afternoon, a heated... discussion could be overheard. The conversation seemed to include the names of Khalid-Atar and Pasiphae many times. The conversation was quite intense and it ended with both parties, a Varati and an Atlantean, leaving in a bit of a huff. Title: Palladium Rumors Since the advent of the war, many of the servants working in the Palladium have grouped together when traveling to the Rialto for supplies or whatnot, subsequently allowing for the spread of gossip... Jogging to catch up with the others, the shorter mongrel girl calls out, "Ephina, wait up!" A giggle follows, "I can't hear the gossip if I'm way back here." Snorting, the older woman bellows, "Then catch up, girl! Gossip waits for no one." Continuing with her stream of news from before, she speaks, "Now that Thanatos fellow they named to the Aegis a little while back, everyone thought he was smitten with the Acesian Domina, but apparently he's been seen quite often in the company of Dea Tritonides' cousin newly-arrived. Danae, I believe her name is." The woman arches both eyebrows, looking at her companions with an 'and you know what that means' look. "What about the Augustin Deus, Ephina, tell us about him," comes the higher-pitched squeal of one of the other women. "Hrmph, well he's gone off to Civitas Dei now, but before he left, he was writing letter after letter to that wife of his." Taking on an indignant look, Ephina speaks as if she is the prime authority on such things, "If you ask me, he was a fool to let her go off to war. A woman's place is at home with her husband. And she hasn't even written him back yet!" Away from the Palladium, the mongrels speak freely, "He may not be the easiest of men to like, but she did marry him." The younger girl's giggle rises over the small group as she catches up, "Speaking of letters, that darkling Tritonides girl seems to get them regularly from a Praetor in Praxis... Almost as regularly as she sends them out." Another tittering giggle follows. Ephina shakes her heads, "Those Tritonides..." Lowering her voice, the older woman motions her companions to come closer as they walk, "Just yesterday, that Jovian girl, Domina Helena -- the one who threw the party -- was seen coming out of both Dominus Amadeo's chambers, and then the Archon's quarters." Straightening up, she bobs her head, "If you ask me, that girl is trying to find a Tritonides husband." One of the quieter women snorts and speaks up, "Well if you had to live in the Jove House with that pregnant Dea, you'd try and get out too. First she cut her hand on that silly knife she had made and you won't believe what she was asking us to get for her the other day...." The women continue on towards the Rialto and the various merchants they need to see, their gossip continuing the entire way. Title: Heralds Gather One by one, they trickled in to Haven, first just a few here and there, and then in a surprising amount, for Heralds are rarely seen en masse. They gathered in the newly-expanded guild house to grieve one and all for the peaceful passing of the Guildmaster, Aruknutz. Each agreed, that while he was an evil-tempered Atlantean with a foul mouth like an old dockhand, he'd done his very best for the guild for as long as he had been with them. The wake started quiet and waxed lugubrious as the wine flowed and the food was served, the party spilling over into the streets as many tried to drown the worry of the constant danger of traveling through lands unsettled with war. Only when all the food was cleared and the Heralds began to sober up was the surprised question asked... who will be chosen to lead the Heralds now? Title: Errand Girl Missing, Too It seems that females from the Pantheon just can't seem to stay in place. Not only is Rani missing but, a day or so after the esteemed Madam Rajan vanished, her newest errand girl -- Nasri -- also left and failed to return. The other servants at the Pantheon know little, although they murmur something about an obligation owed to the Pantheon's owner that might have been the driving force behind the errand girl's attempt to locate her... Title: Opal's Return For a couple of months now, Opal's booth in the Rialto has been empty. Deserted, and locked up. But these last couple of days, a new coat of paint has started to appear on the shack-like establishment. Wintergreens have been put in the small flower baskets on each side of the counter. And the cook herself has once more been visible in the market, buying in fresh groceries. But one thing is different. "Did you hear?" "About what?" "Opal's got a kid!" "Eeh??" "Yeah, a real button, too, but she's awfully scrawny looking. I heard it from my cousin's best friend -- she's got a booth right by Opal's. She says she's heard that the kid is Opal's little sister, she actually survived the mudslide, you know, the one that everyone thought killed off all of Opal's family? But not this child. She's not quite right upstairs, though." A meaning tock-tock-tock with a fingertip against the gossipers's head. "She doesn't talk at all, and when she sees an Atarvani, she hollers enough you'd think he'd tried to flay her alive. Poor Opal is still trying to get her to stop doing that, but it's hard. And what's worse is, that I heard, just a little rumor mind you, that Opal had apparently found the child when she was about to be sold as shudra. Or even worse... Yeah, even though she don't look like she's past eight years old, the girl has apparently reached womanhood. Nobody knows just what's happened to her between the accident and when she was found, either..." And so the story goes. Title: Atlantean Philosopher Comes to Haven The mildly renowned Atlantean minor poet and philosopher, Xenos Meander has been seen in the streets of Haven, wandering destitute and content. Upon being recognized by a local teacher of rhetoric, and asked why he was here, he said, "Last night, I gambled all my money on a game of marked cards, and lost." When asked why he didn't walk away from the table, Meander reputedly replied, "If I refused to play just because a game was unfair, I would have killed myself years ago. I am in Haven to receive my cards, and play my hand." Reports vary as to the philosopher's state of sobriety when making these remarks. Title: Lycenae and the God-King Panicked reports start to stream into Haven of a city consumed by the wrath of the God-King. Lycenae, a medium-sized city in northeastern Arelate now lies in utter ruin, destroyed beneath a rising tower of molten rock which developed into a volcano. The total lives lost is unknown, but apparently refugees had fled the city in the face of the Varati advance. Reports do tell of pained screams of death and agony as the lava closed over those hapless souls trapped within. In the face of a general alarm among the Empyreal citizens, the government has released a statement concerning this matter: "Citizens of the Empyre. It is with great regret and sadness that we confirm the devastation of Lycenae by the God-King's forces. The God King's unnecessary action against an undefended city has cost the lives of hundreds and perhaps thousands of innocent men, women, and children. Their agonizing screams were heard from within the walls as the city was destroyed. Why? To prove how powerful he is to all of us? To show how quickly he wishes to end this war? Yet again, the Varati have ended more lives, have killed more of our people, have destroyed another of our cities. This, the race who has spared so many of our kind, now arbitrarily consumes them in flame. "People of the Empyre, we have a decision to make. The God-King, Khalid Atar marches across our land, bringing fire and death to those who would oppose him. His armies are strong, his magic is powerful. Are you afraid? Perhaps you will answer yes to that question. But ask yourself this: can the Empyreal goverment surrender to the Varati as we are now? Will that avenge the thousands of deaths those people have inflicted upon us already? The loss of our loved ones? The loss of our cities? Will you be able to call yourself an Empyrean citizen knowing that you live only because the God-King wills it? "We may find peace now, but what if Khalid Atar grows restless again and seeks to invade us for tribute and resources? Will we have the strength to battle him a second time? Will we care? There are those among you that view this as a war spawned by the leaders of this Empyre, for pride. You could not be more wrong. This war is being fought to show that the Empyrean people will not bow to the God-King's atrocities. We will not allow them to take our women and children. We will not bow to his butchery, to his slavery, and to his magic. "So, to the peacemakers: think well on what the Varati have offered us for peace, and to what they have done to our lands already when we have only defended them. "To the warriors: take heart, for we will achieve victory. And if victory is not to be had, then let them remember that we fought bravely against tyrannical oppression. "To the people: this Empyre is yours. If you truly wish to cow beneath the boot of Khalid Atar to save your lives, then your goverment will not oppose that. Make your wills known and it shall happen. But is your life worth sacrificing the pride which makes us Empyrean? "As each of you rests in your beds, consider well what it means to be one of our race. Consider well what it means to be descended from the Jovian, Apollo, mighty Askarades, and Tritonia. Would they have stood for this? And if we are willing to accept it, will we be able to even live in their shadows?" This pamphlet is read from the corners of Civitas Dei by the finest orators. Pamphlets are also given out at the embassy, where there are two readings. One in the morning and one in the evening. Title: The Fate of a Slave Let it be known in the Palladium what becomes of willful slaves, or those who seek to find 'better treatment' at the hands of the Varati. The mongrel slave known as Sonya is in custody, and will soon be put to death, on suspicion of being a Varati spy. It is enough, in this time of war, to be suspected. There is no room for doubt. Let the sentence stand. Title: New Wares for Sale Merchants are already selling delicate little blown- and carved-glass vials with ashes in them, purported to have been collected from the mountain raised in place of Lycenae. Not very many (some would say 'none') are genuine, but it's a brisk business among the lower castes of the Varati and not a few mongrels, too, who'll take good luck from wherever it comes. The kshatri, for the most part, hold off -- they'll be having family members return from that area, a large number of them at least, so why pay now for ashes likely out of someone's brazier when in a short time (as soon as the Empyreans surrender) they'll have the genuine article? More worrisome are rumors that whisper that a coalition of rebel Warlords has taken advantage of Khalid's personal occupation of Empyreal territory and has besieged Masada. Take Masada, they say, and even the God-King himself will be weakened -- although the merchants themselves do not believe this to be so, of course not, oh no, pious souls are they! Details are not specific, and more paranoid merchants remind the listener that a caravan making good time to Masada still takes somewhere in the neighborhood of three months, reminding them that it will take some time for true news reports to reach Haven. The optimists remind listeners of the same thing as a point in their favor -- if it were true, shouldn't news of such a thing take longer to reach Haven? This difference in opinion is not settled by shouting, the throwing of rotten fruit, or even by fisticuffs. Title: Strange Beasts in Ettowealona Lands Rumors and tales told amongst the trackers and hunters of the Ettowealona describe the trail of a most unusual beast lurking around. Huuuge feet, it has, each with six long toes. Claws too, they say, given the deep score marks in the bark of trees. And as to its scent? Old and bearlike, to those who know such things, but mingled with the oily tang of burnt lamp oil. Flattened shrubs and buried skeletons of other animals seem to indicate an animal of massive size, but the shallow indentation of the prints doesn't bear this out. Stories are beginning to surface of nightmarish animals, six-limbed, six-toed, six eyes and with the terrible appetite of six ravening bears. They say it comes in times of trouble, to feed on fear (and any other prey it can get its hands on). They say it is already dead, so you cannot kill it! There is only the hope to pacify it which will send it back to its burrow in the depths of the earth, if a particular ritualistic dance is performed at the right time on the right day. Title: Word of Parnassus Word of Parnassus begins filtering into Haven. Reports are confused at best when the first news arrives, telling of many deaths and the possibility that Parnassus has fallen to the Varati. When official word comes, however, the story is set straight. Parnassus was held by the Empyreal forces when reinforcements arrived to help the initial deployment. Though the city is damaged, it is still under Empyreal protection. Praetorian forces took heavy damages before the reinforcements arrived, but the Varati also suffered. At last, the Varati opposition was driven away from Parnassus and back toward the hills with some of the Praetorian forces following to attack the Varati army from the rear and to route its supply lines. While news of this might be a disappointment to Varati ears, there are many winged ones in Haven who are all too glad to hear tell of a victory for the Empyre. Title: Attack in Bordertown There was a brief stir in Bordertown today as the Hounds were called in to investigate what seemed at first to be a mugging. According to the testimony that the surviving victim gave to the Hounds, he had been discussing business with a freelance cyprian when something hit him in the head and he was knocked unconscious. When he awoke, he discovered the cyprian with her throat slit -- but all her money was found intact.
Motives for the odd attack are unknown as yet, but anyone with information is
invited to speak with the Hounds.
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