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Heard in Haven: October 1998
Title: Kedhav's Return to Haven Three days after Clan Kedhav left Haven, they return. This time not in force as before, only the Warlord Fath and a personal guard from the Bronze Guard. Upon entering the city, the Warlord entered the Atesh-Gah and has not been seen since. Some who saw his entrance swear that there was dried blood upon his armor, others insist that he was in fact himself wounded, while yet others spread stories that Clan Kedhav has marched, and is at this time coming close to Haven. 
Title: Another Skirmish? Rumors find their way back to Haven that yet another skirmish has erupted within Varati territory. In the early morning hours, signal horns could be heard as the entire border between Haven and Varati lands came alive with searching warriors and organizing patrols. Current word is that the border was the site of another vicious Empyrean assault which claimed more Varati lives. With the efforts that many are making toward peace, it is almost certain that this will damage those attempts, perhaps beyond repair. Neither the Palladium nor Atesh-Gah has released a statement on the matter, but it is clear by both the immense military escalation and the rising tensions, that those two races are once again on the brink of war. Rumour also has it that Emperor Lucian Deiepetes has returned to Civitas Dei for his own safety--a further omen of dark times ahead.
Title: Lost and Found Rumor circulates through the whole of the Palladium like wildfire that the Princeps, Lysander Marius Acesian, and the Domina Eranthe Augustin have returned to the Empyreal Embassy under mysterious auspices. Apparently, the pair appeared with a group of warriors, and while a bit worse for wear, were alive and well! This about the time of the 'border skirmish' between Varati and Empyreal forces. The fears of chaos in the Empyre or a weakening of its political backbone were quelled--at least for the time being. Some believe that this will ease tensions between the Varati and Empyreal factions, yet others fear that things have progressed too far already to be turned back.
Title: Mad Mongrel in the Palladium A dark-haired, bare-chested mongrel was killed today. Apparently, he slipped into the Palladium, by means as yet unknown, and went mad, slashing at Empyreans' wings whereever he saw them--a small straight razor his weapon. Nobody was hurt, and besides a few ruffled feathers, life in the Palladium goes on as usual. Anyone wishing to identify or claim the body may contact the Palladium guard.
Title: Heard Around the Pantheon Rumor about the Pantheon is that its sometime waitress/bookkeeper Mirabelle (an Atlantean) who has been scarce for a few months, has finally left her position for good. Scuttlebutt has it that she went off and married that Sylvan named Saul that she was known to hang around with, and that they went off into the forest to find a home. Not everyone tells the tale with approval.
Title: Strange Behavior Word spreads rapidly about the odd behavior of the Sylvans. More of them are coming out of the forest and are doing something in the fields. Great piles of wood and stone rise, and someone always seems to be praying over them. Runners and messengers leave and return. Groups seem to be traveling to the area and gathering near the forest edge. Many of those who enter the city are behaving in a strange manner. Two half-breed farmers gossip near the west gate. Passersby and city guards can overhear them. "Pssst. Did you hear? They are going to attack." One says. Another responds "What do you mean, attack? I heard just some kinda big meeting." "Nah. We're just seeing what they want us to see. No telling how many are gathered in the forest where we can't see them," comes the sly reply. "They won't catch me off guard. You mark my words. Something is happening, and its going to be bad." A loud snort follows that comment. "Well, I don't believe it, but we'll keep an eye out." The reply comes quickly, "Especially on those in the city. No telling what they are up to. Close-mouthed bunch. Don't even know who their leaders are. Sneaky bunch. They like it that way. You in with me? If we see anything happening, we go spy on them, find out?" A reluctant nod follows. "Yes. If for no other reason, to keep you young hotheads from doing something foolish." The two wander out of hearing range.
Title: Wedding Reactions "Shocking!" is one of the opinions expressed in the Palladium following the rumors of a rather hasty wedding. "Which part? The fact that the girl's father wasn't even there to give her away--none of her family were? Or that they held the ceremony in Delphi--not even on Empyreal soil? Or how about that she married an Aegian, with her father being the Princeps? "Um..." "Or perhaps you're referring to the Princeps' reaction to the whole thing? Disowning his own daughter! Striking her name from House records! You know... some say that he did react rather hastily to domina Augustin's capture..." "Er..." "Oh! I know! You mean the fact that they had an Atlantean Decemvir present, and a 'darkie,' and that they might as well have just eloped!" "Well... actually, none of those." "What, then?!" Pointing toward a brightly-dressed Empyrean, the first speaker exclaims, "Do you see the gown the woman is wearing? And in this season...?"
Title: Ancient Drums... Just south of the mountains the Varati call home, there is a forest that stretches along the farmlands surrounding Haven. A forest that for years has been empty of anything but animals. The Sylvans never went there--no one really gave much of a reason. The Varati don't care much about it, after all, it is just a forest. The farmers stayed away from it--no good seemed to come to those that went there. But gradually, over the many years, the farmers lost their respect for the woods and would venture in to cut down trees and hunt for skins. But all that seems to have changed now. Rumors flutter through the farmlands that one of their own was attacked and driven from the woods. They say that an ancient tribe which many had forgotten has returned. The Apisachi are back. Scribes pull out ancient tomes, searching for this strange Sylvan name. Who is this tribe that call themselves the Apisachi? The word means "protector." Ancient texts say that when the Sylvans lost control of the known world, the Apisachi waned in power and eventually just disappeared. But now, they seem to have returned, their ranks swelling with the work of fresh recruits and new tribe members. Stay out of the woods to the north, friend, because unless you follow the Sylvan way--unless you heed the cry of the Earth Mother, you could be in for a very rude awakening.
Title: Drunken Sailors Not much of something to note, but the Memphis, which had been notoriously missing for at least two weeks, has returned to Haven's shores. Again, not much to note, but every sailor on board seemed to be almost swimming in ale, drunk as a skunk. Rumors have it that the Captain is trying to lift the spirits of her crew, but others say that the sailors are just trying 'to destroy the evidence.' What evidence? Hiccup! Anyway, the notorious Captain is back in town and much less drunk than her crew. Thank the Lord.
Title: Empyrean Whispers Gossip filters quickly, as it is prone to do, informing the curious (and informed of the goings-on in the Palladium) of the naming of the new patriarch of House Thanatos. It seems that Andromache, of that House, gave her son the name 'Astyanax Raziel Thanatos'--proclaiming him to be the son of the former patriarch. Odd, that... a mere babe in charge of the House, and not even one who can claim legitimate birth. What this means for the future of the already-weak noble House remains to be seen.
Title: War!? On August 1, 3903, the second round of talks between the Varati and the Empyre began. In attendance was Visir Arslan Messala for the Varati and the respresentatives of the Great Houses: Dea Kalypso Tritonides, Dominus Dralo Jove (advisor to the House Jove), Deus Cassius Augustin, and Princeps Lysander Acesian. Also rumored to be present was Domina Eranthe Augustin. The exact content of the meeting was unknown--it was just said that tempers ran high and Visir Messala emerged from the Delphic Citadel declaring war upon the Empyre! Thus far, the Empyre itself has not issued a formal declaration of war, though some amongst its nobles and other castes are clamoring for an immediate response. Princeps Lysander Acesian has convened an emergency session of the Aegis to debate on this matter. What will be the outcome of that vote is unknown; however what is known is that the Emypre and the Varati stand on the edge of war once again. On both sides, militaries are on high alert and could come to blows at any moment. All units have been recalled to active duty as each side prepares for the worst (if you are a soldier, this means you). The other factions have yet to release statements on these announcements. The world stands at the brink of the greatest struggle in modern times.
Title: Orders from the Empyreal Quarter The Praetorian Guard have gone on full alert. The Guard is allowing no one, repeat, no one inside the Palladium without seriously good reasons. People who try to break in are shot on sight and will be questioned only if they survive. The guard force at the gate has tripled to a full dozen men, and there are guardsmen posted upon rooftops and in aerial patrols as well. Servant and slave traffic in and out of the area has been severely curtailed, too, with deliveries of food-stuffs being handled by Velites to assure a modicum of security.
Title: Apisachi Warning! The Rialto, early evening: A lone farmer stumbles into the area, moves straight over to an ale-tent and quickly gets a drink. He downs it in no time, then turns to all those within earshot. "The Apisachi are real! It's no myth. They have returned to the northern woods. I was there--I saw it!" He steps from the ale-seller and moves about the crowd a little. "I was there to collect some new wood for my tools. I brought me axe and found the perfect yearling. I was two or three hits inta fellin' it, when an arrow shot into the tree over me shoulder!" A few of the crowd about him begin to mutter and shake their heads, some in disbelief, others in fear or anger. "It's true!" He pulls a broken arrow out of his pack and shows it to everyone. "I turned to look, and there was this massive, crazed-looking Sylvan with horrible black eyes, his face all painted and his hair wild!" The farmer moves about the crowd, making motions with his hands to indicate the size and the markings. "He steps up to me and knocks me axe from me hands, grabs my tunic and slams me into the tree, two or three times. Look!" He points at a swollen spot on the side of his face, just barely showing the signs of what will definitely be a bruise. "Then he growls in my face and says that woods belong to the Sylvans, and that if I want wood I will have to buy it, or find it elsewhere. Then he says I am to deliver a warning, to tell everyone not of Sylvan blood to stay out o' the northern woods, or else." The crowd is definitely talking amongst themselves now--a few in awe, many in fear, others in anger. "Then he turned, ran through the trees and disappeared in the brush like some savage! I... I ran for my life!" The murmurs of the crowd and the ramblings of the man are cut short by a harsh hawk's cry. The farmer nearly jumps out of his skin. The crowd looks up to see a massive hawk sitting atop a nearby post, clutching an old worn axe, broken in half. The hawk swoops down, flying just above the crowd, people ducking in fear. At the farmer, it cuts and soars up into the air, but not before dropping the broken axe at his feet. The ghostly-pale farmer just screams and runs away through the crowd.
Title: A Quiet Arrival The people of the Atlantean embassy were somewhat surprised earlier in the day when they saw a young woman wander through the Korallion, and more specifically: the temple of Pasiphae. It wasn't 'til word leaked out that this was in fact Lehuan Okalani, the new High Priestess of Pasiphae, that they came to pay more attention to her. It is said she speaks softly and politely, but wishes no big fuss made about her presence here--the first official journey she makes in her new office. It is therefore no surprise that almost no one outside the embassy knows this silent woman who roams the streets to find out more about this city.
Title: Chaos in the Rialto Shivering heavily, a fat merchant is sitting in a chair in a bar. The man is soaking wet and has been given a blanket to keep him warm. Most of the people in the tavern are crowding around the man's table--those who cannot sit stand nearby, trying not to miss a word he speaks. "I will tell you one more time, it was awful!" The man wipes away the drops of water on his forehead with a trembling hand. "I mean, here I am, selling my fine goods at the market, the sun is shining, it is just is a perfect day. But then this huge caravan arrives, brought in by some mongrels I have never seen before. All dressed up nicely... Must have been working for some pretty rich man..." The man seems to be thinking on his own words for a while, but his listeners get restless and start begging the man for more information. He sighs, but continues his story. "All right! Well, then I saw this Empyrean woman talk to them. I thought it a really strange thing for an Empyrean to talk to mere mongrels, but I was just selling the loveliest necklace at the time and took no real notice, I guess. Then... utter chaos broke loose!" The people crowded around the merchant bend even closer, hanging onto the man's words in eager anticipation. He continues, "All around... and I do mean all around, suddenly, out of nowhere... Varati! Hundreds of them, I think, if not more! All around, faces masked with scarves and such, unsheathing swords and nocking arrows on their crossbows, pointing them at anyone who moved. That fruitseller next to me? He fainted after one look at that lot..." The fat merchant grabs the mug of wine broght to him and gulps down half of it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hands, shaking at the memory. The crowd murmurs uneasily--Varati drawing weapons in the Rialto in broad daylight? The fat man drinks the rest of his wine before continuing, finding some strength in the alcohol. "Turned out they were after the chests and crates the caravan brought in. You want to know what was in them? Do you? Well, a couple of them fell down and they contained food, and... weapons! Chests filled with food, and with hundreds of daggers and swords, just right there in the market! The Hounds saw it too, but they could not do anything about it, as the Varati held arrows pointed at them, and swords. And they even killed one of them! And another took a bolt in the shoulder..." The fat bloke almost stumbles over his own words, in his haste to tell everything he saw. "Then the leader of those Varati--tall he was, wide shoulders--he says to the Empyrean woman that she can keep her food, but has to leave the weapons and... well, he then personally kills one of the mongrels! Blood spilling out of his throat and everything..." Another mug is brought to the man and he uses the wine to steady his nerves a little more. The crowd is pushing against the table and the merchant has to wave his hands for them to step back a little, not to crush him. But the people will not be silent as the women utter frightened whispers and the men talk in urgent murmurs. The owner of the tavern decides to help the merchant and pushes people back, so the fat man to go on with his story. "There was fighting, and people killed and all those mongrels--must have been outcasts, I mean, no self-respecting mongrel would do such a thing--those mongrels carrying off food and Varati carrying off weapons... and mongrels attacking Varati and Varati killing mongrels and them dressed-up ones shouting about Empyreal property and..." The man gasps for breath and continues, a little more calm, "But that was not even the worst of all. Out of a blue sky, suddenly, ink-black clouds! It surely was not a natural storm, so sudden and fierce... I have never seen the likes of it before! Lightning, thunder, rain pouring down as never before. I tell you, it was so very frightening, I don't even know how much damage it caused to my store. I saw stalls being blown away, goods swept across the Rialto, I fear I may be among many who have suffered serious losses..." The man shivers again, but continues bravely, "It was hard to see what happened next, with the rain falling down so hard, but by this time a woman wearing a hooded cloak had joined the Empyrean woman and they were arguing. They must have been leaders of some sort, as the mongrels did everything they told them to do. And then... the hooded woman was stabbed in the back by one of the Varati, and next thing the killer had a blade in his own throat! And... and..." The merchant loses his self-control and can do nothing more then sit and tremble, looking at the people around him with wide eyes. One of the women working in the tavern gently leads him away from the table and upstairs, to rest, leaving the crowd to exclaim, argue and guess by themselves. A weapon-transport in the middle of the Rialto. Food for outcasts? Who sent this shipment? Why did the mongrels shout that the goods were Empyreal property? Why in the Rialto? And who is that Empyrean woman? Unknown Varati with masked faces raiding the caravan weapons. Who were they? Which clan were they from? Where did they take the chests filled with weapons? A strange storm appearing out of nowhere. Who was behind this and how much damage did it cause? Did the hooded woman survive the stab in her back? No wonder the tale spreads wildly.
Title: Traitor in the Hounds? Rumors have spread around that barely a day after the incident in the Rialto, a few members of the Hounds have apparently gone 'against' Kita, the acting Archon. Details about who are vague, except that one of them is a mongrel. If order is to be lost in the Hounds, what's next to come?
Title: Foreign Relations With the war looming ominously on the horizon of the future, the Delphi's state of foreign relations is more precarious than ever. Perhaps it is this, and the rumored missing Foreign Liaison, that stir tales of the Avatarati's recent meetings on foreign affairs... and Liaisons. As time slides by, the inevitable growing closer, these whispered speculations grow stronger than ever. Those who bear close proximity to the Citadel claim that the old mages spend an increasing amount of time behind closed doors, often well beyond the light of sun dimming from the sky. Will a member of the Avatarati bear the weight of soothing the sides, or has a new Liaison been selected from the ranks? Whomever the group decides, or has decided, is fit for the challenge, it will be a difficult task indeed to prove herself or himself to Delphi, and to Haven.
Title: The Twelve Twelve Avatarati--an even number divided equally between the noted races. A dozen wizened faces overlook Haven, no matter the season or circumstance. Memories have begun to fade since the group was last shaken, the Seer Cassandra stripped of Sibyl and cast out from the group. Since that time, while the prominent faces may alternate, and some mages stay out of the public eye entirely, there was Peace. It has been a time to regenerate from the speculations and scandals of a maddened Avatarati. A time to demonstrate unity and strength, building upward from the flames and ashes of doubt. Perhaps merely wilder rumours stemming out from the original speculations of a change of guard for the Foreign Liaison, whispers now seem to circulate of dissent within the Avatarati--that one within has broken vows of neutrality and put personal gain above the interests of Delphi and Haven. Some flavors of rumors even say this mage has even caused harm to another. There are likely those within the walls of the Citadel that know the truth to this. Which one of the twelve would betray the vows of an Avatarati? Tribunal, some have even whispered, a public trial to save or damn by the mage's own testament. If such a thing is to occur, it is perhaps only a matter of time before a trial is announced or rumors are cleared. But already, the speculating-type start to wonder: who will be the chosen one once there are only eleven?
Title: Storm in the Northern Mountains Word trickles into the city that several days past, a surprisingly violent and unseasonal storm attacked the Northern Mountains. The fury of the gale seemed to have been focused more on the western edge, but was not content until it swept over a goodly portion of the range. Reports say that the storm was marked by powerful and erratic gusts of wind that ripped some of the softer trees from the ground itself. Torrents of rain along with thunder and lightening completed the angry and uncontrollable storm.
Title: That Darkling is Back "Did you see? That Tritonides girl has come back. You know, the darkling one? Waltzed in here the other night with all her belongings like she'd never left. *hrmph*." "Well, it's probably because she tried to put on airs at Civitas Dei. I'm sure they showed her what was what, not like this heathen place."
Title: Shock in the Rialto Surprise rippled through the Rialto as the crowds parted around one Empyreal woman like a puddle of oil curls away from a bit of soap. Huddled on the ground in a small pool of green silk and golden feathers, the Empyrean rocked back and forth, curled about herself like a wounded child. She clutched her head, eyes tightly closed as she sobbed incoherently. The few still near enough to hear picked out bits and pieces, mostly disturbing fragments 'brother' and 'failed' were repeated often enough to cause a few to nod sagely. Those that hadn't already noticed the sybil's pin on her clothing wispered to each other. The Varati didn't even need to touch this one to take her down. Obviously, they are weak. The few Empyreans on the street muttered darkly and frowned to each other about 'foul play.' But none stepped forward to assist until several mages from Delphi emerged and made their way directly over to the disturbance. Quickly surrounding the young woman, the Delphic mages escorted her through the great gates of the Citadel, not to be seen again.
Title: Rogue? Whispers around the docks and Siren's Song slowly spread into the city. They vary in content and scope, and involve anything from a couple of people arguing (Ha, as if that is something new around the Siren's Song) to a whole troup from the Korallion breaking up a riot. (Well, that's not unheard of either.) They do, however, share a few common threads. One common factor is a man some have seen working round the docks who has a nasty burn on his hand which simply will not heal. The second is his anger and seeming threat to kill a Sylvan with an 'X' brand on her forehead that he claimed burned him with her magic. Third is Captain Orman Riva seeming to separate the two and immediately sending Sentries diving off the docks, searching the waters and others carrying messages to the Hounds. (All in all, Ho hum, maybe it's just a slow news day after all. Business like usual, but
got to have something to talk about.)
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