The Bleeding Curse
-
Fresh from the bloodied passes of the Storm Horns, returning Tempan crusaders bring with them grim tales of the latest battle against the Mountain Orcs. Though victorious, they speak of an enemy already faltering--whole groupings found dead in their own camps, their skin pale and eyes sunken, blood weeping from old wounds long thought healed. Some Tempans call it a blessing, others--a curse.
The orcs were said to die screaming, their blood refusing to clot, even from minor cuts. “A scratch from a thorn, and they bled like pigs in the snow,” one soldier claimed. “They couldn’t even hold their weapons before falling.” And while many cheer the weakening of the enemy, some whisper of darker truths. A few returning soldiers speak of a foul stench in the upper passes--rot and herbs burned on blackened altars. One even found a crude effigy, soaked in orc blood and scorched by lightning.
Talk in the rougher taverns mentions a posting found in alleys and cellar doors, speaking of fire and sacrifice, of blood given freely and poisons stirred beneath storm-wracked skies. It is said Talona herself was called upon and, beyond the Silence, that she answered. Still others claim the strange wasting sickness may be the work of some new Orcish alchemy gone wrong--or punishment from the Balance of the lands itself.
Yet the cheers are tinged with unease. A few Tempan soldiers returned with coughing fits, bloodshot eyes, or wounds that bleed longer than they should. Some healers within the Temple of Helm have begun quiet quarantines, though they deny any danger. In the poorer quarters, common folk have begun leaving dried thistle, meat fat, and bits of copper on their windowsills--tokens for the Lady of Poisons, that she might pass them by. Others smear their doorways with ash or blood, whispering, “Spare this home, O Mother of Scourges, and take no tithe from within.”
No one knows what walks the high peaks now--only that something answered when blood was given.
