Strange blue lights were seen pulsing through the clouds above the Storm Horns last night—silent, unnatural, and far too steady to be lightning. Some say the Mountain Orcs were trying to open a gate, though to where, no one agrees—“a place where the sky burns cold,” “the hollow beneath the mountain’s heart,” or “somewhere the stars refuse to shine.”

A few brave souls set out to stop it—adventurers, later joined by a strange, masked group that came and went without a word. The storm quieted, and the lights faded... but those who returned did so bloodied, limping, and grim-faced. Whatever happened up there, they looked more shaken than victorious.

Tension in the city is growing by the hour. The Mountain Orcs have pushed farther than anyone expected, and whispers of defeat are slipping into everyday conversation. The Queen is returning, with an army they say, but will she be here in time?

Following the changing landscape around Deadwell there have been more movements around the Blisterfoot Inn.

Men are seen reviewing the ruined structure of the inn itself, with temporary barricades being installed and removed

Over the past few hours Orc movement has died down significantly in the mountain peaks, the pilgrimage ends as we enter, perhaps, the calm before the storm…

Those who venture westward from Eveningstar on the road to Collinwood are confronted with a hideous scene, the remains of several Orcs and Kobolds that seem to have died in the grip of abject terror, not a mark upon their crumpled bodies as they lie rotting in the fields.

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Farmers to the West of Arabel who ventured out to tend to their crops early one morning were met with a shocking scene: entire fields had been overturned as if a violent struggle had taken place. However, it wasn’t just the trampled earth and their crops that sent shivers down their spines; a strange mixture of blood soaked into the soil, mingling with what appeared to be remnants of charred remains scattered throughout the fields.

As rumours spread, farmers described a heavy, acrid stench that lingered in the air, reminiscent of burnt flesh. Theories are running rampant, from wild animal attacks to dark rituals conducted by secretive cults, but no one can explain how such a gruesome scene had unfolded so close to home. Some favour purging the fields, fearing diseases. Whilst others dare not anger whatever it may have been that brought such amounts of blood and death.

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There are whispers circulating around Arabel that a series of peculiar freak accidents have been occurring during the night. Locals say that in the dead of night, mysterious phenomena seem to unfold, from lampposts inexplicably toppling over as a guard passes by to garden statues found smashed into pieces without a sound of the occurrence.

Some claim to have seen strange shadows slithering in the dark, casting an eerie gloom over the alleyways, while others report hearing unsettling noises that echo through the quiet streets, leading to a sense of unease among the residents. In hushed tones, common folk are beginning to wonder if they should take extra precautions or if it’s simply all a load of nonsense. Whatever the case may be, the nighttime air in Arabel is thick with a mix of fear and curiosity.