*** STOP PRESS ***
They came over night and left as sneakingly as they came. Who they are is unknown, but what they left is plain to see.
An Impaled head tells as much as that someone left a message and beds and supplies have been left behind seemingly in a hurry.
The shape of the huts suggests probably Nordic people coming to our Isle.
One can not really say the village is abandoned though. At this nice artwork we can see a delegation of women warm themselves by the fire:
Incoherent mutterings from within the Unseelie Grounds turned into words of the drow tongue.
The macabre whispers carried through the breeze, generating quite a strong unease when nearing the caves.
It has been said that the Drow Matron has become a monster in shape of a giant spider, even though we cannot tell for how long.
While the boy Dhuanolil kept acting protective over his monster momma.
The young dark elf , friend and son to many is strangely dressed these days.
Also it seems he is not well used to the winterly season, since he keeps complaining about the cold. In a not completely unrelated note,
some people may want to know that the young boy has been playing with dangerous objects and might represent a danger to friends and family.
Once we know more, we will report.
Traitor of All Races
One cold morning, the St. Vitus Village woke up to find itself covered in parchment posters accusing the werewolf Richard of being a “Traitor of All Races”.
A seemingly offended Richard challenged the current leader of the village, the hunter Veldrin, demanding from him to remove said posters,
which he claimed to slander his character.
Our sources informed that the elves made the posters, in an effort to show the counterfeit of Richard, warning about his activities.
After several attacks on the wylds and the humans, Richard and the drow mercenary Aeon (whom it is rumored to be his new mistress), have been hiding in the mines. However, things have been overly calm in the surroundings, which is why we may assume either that they are dead or otherwise successfully fled their punishment.
The elves compelled the humans of Dee to stay away from the beach for an evening, to be left undisturbed for a seemingly important ritual
that they chose to hold at the mentioned premises, after days of collecting firewood.
In a slow and prayerful procession, they arrived with the sunset to lit the fire.
Eye witnesses report about abundant chanting and singing, followed by the ceremonial burning of a whip, seemingly taken from the drow mercenary Aeon.
Eventually, the sound of many horns simultaneously blown was heard all over the isle, rippling the air.
Delegations of Elves were seen guarding the fire until they collected the remains and carried them back to the forest.
Whispers of Weddings
While it is no secret at all that the former hunter later tavern owner and recent head of the walled village, Veldrin, aims to make the former wench Laura his wife, there are whispers of two other planned weddings.
The alchemist Tuck and the baker Jessie have been seen together and he was heard asking her to be his wife at the local tavern.
You can appreciate Mr. Tuck’s sensual attributes and Ms. Jessie’s hot buns in the latest Dee calendar.
Meanwhile, here is a portrait of the lovebirds, painted by a local artist:
A few days later, the young teenage drow Dhuanolil expressed publicly his desire to marry the human young girl Dia,
announcing his intentions in front of Dia’s adoptive mother, Laura. Both children were seen inside the seamstress shop, apparently making a dress.
Letters were sent to the mainland in request for a brave clerical person willing to take care of the St. Vitus Church matters.
Anyone able to recite religious sermon -and perform marriages- should serve just as well, one would assume.
Several sightings of hooded strangers were anonymously reported to the editors’ office.
Whilst we care for your concerns and have informed the Commander of the Militia about these incidents, it is also our duty to remind you that,
being winter and extremely cold, it would be not uncommon to wear heavy cloaks with hoods.
More concerning we find the strange fact that some beings seem entirely unaffected by our current weather conditions, walking around with bare feet
or slightly uncovered in spite of the icy cold. Our readers may wonder… are they actually alive?
Veldrin called for suggestions for a name for the new Dee tavern.
We have gathered a few neatly written notes sent to our office -two of them just left at the door step-
for the consideration of the tavern keepers:
1) The Shingle Inn
2) The Raven’s Claw Inn
3) The Witch’s Cauldron
4) The Stowaway Inn
5 The Hobbit’s Basement
At one note we found the -serious?- suggestion:
May the tavern keepers know what to do.
As soon as a decision reaches our attention, we will inform our faithful readers.
And since its worth the mention:
Lucky bastards who were there at that day when drunk elves pleased the eye and probably more.
No Mean People
A note in wobbly inexperienced handwriting that we found in our mailbox , signed with the name Dhuanolil, reads:
Lilac, Jade, and Dhuanolil made a ball and now they’re looking for other people who will want to play ball in one big game with teams.
Everyone of all ages can come, whether they’re really little or really old. All races can come too, to have fun.
No one’s allowed to be mean to anyone else, no matter what race they are. People who are mean won’t be allowed to play.
A time and date for the game will be decided later.
Games and philosophical discussions took place at the beach and what was supposed to be and started as a fun day for everyone turned out to be
dripping heavy of tensions. Namely the young girl Dia, along with her adoptive mother, appeared to be somewhat ill disposed against some of the wylds,
throwing meaningful glances namely in the direction of the elf Runa, for reasons that were not revealed to our office.
Even though neither lady offered us a formal interview, Dia declared:
“They [elves] seem to be coming around more but they really do still got forest sticks up their butts”.
Later on, Veldrin began lecturing on the origins of the Yuletide celebrations and ended up going through titillating directions.
The Yule tree in the backside of the Courthouse was packed with present boxes and well visited by young and old of all races.
The general good kind loving mood took over and a many a folk could be seen handing little tokens of appreciation to each other and kissing under bunches of mistletoe.
One rainy day, the isle of Dee was shaken by the sudden news that the elf Runa was pronounced dead, reported to have been killed by the mercenary drow Aeon.
While some took a breath of relief, others mourned aloud and far-stretched, especially heartbreaking in the case of the small child elf Tippie.
With most unclear details and for blurry reasons, said elf abruptly reappeared. Rumor has it that she chose to disguise as a drow to hide from the drow., which makes poor sense to the editors. Some even wonder whether Runa is actually a drow in disguise of an elf. Further research is needed.
Questioned by Veldrin, the mercenary drow Aeon admitted having orders from her coven to kill the elf Runa. In Aeon’s own words, “You do not leave [the coven]. You leave, you die; so I was sent to kill Gideon and his family. I ended his life swiftly, and I was told that Runa was his partner so, you see, she must die as well”.
Without confirmations from a formal source, it has been reached our office the hearsay that the Mer King is not sleeping and wanders very close to the Isle. Furthermore, stories have been heard about stone trolls and golems haunting the Isle with occasional appearances and deadly pranks. Speaking of pranks, there we a few complaints about the pixie Canned, even though her pranks turn out to be rather harmless.
It is winter. Cold, occasionally snowfall covers everything in white sugar blanket.