The bloody and disfigured corpse of a human male would be left tied to a directional sign post at the junction closest to Valkur's Roars Low Road.
The corpse would have been stripped bare down to its underwear and be mutilated through countless vicious gashes across the torso, arms and legs. These wounds were caused by a bladed weapon.
The head of the corpse would be slumped down and only upon closer inspection would it be apparent that the face had been cut up to such a degree that its identity would not easily be recognized.
Stuffed into the corpses mouth would be a scrunched up parchment bearing a message: "Weep not for me, for the lions in my purse were worth more to me than my life."
A trail of smeared blood would lead away from the body at least a dozen meters into some sparse woodland nearby. Here would be a pool of sticky blood with flies buzzing over it. The person was perhaps murdered here and then dragged along the ground to the sign post where it was tied securely to it with a length of spider silk rope.
Post by StabbingNirvana on Dec 9, 2014 12:00:54 GMT -5
A Knight of the Triadic Order passing from Suzail to Valkur's would take notice of the mutilated corpse along the road. He'd dismount and ready his shield as he approaches to further inspect the scene.
He reaches out and takes the note left in the corpse's mouth. After reading it, he folds it and places the note in his pack, leaving the corpse otherwise in place and leaving after speaking a prayer for the dead.
He'd continue his way onto Valkur's Roar where he approaches the gate guards and lets them know of the scene.
//If a dm is willing to take this on, please pm me. I will be needing support from the lawful establishment.
Seeing a lull in adventuring and upon hearing of increased dangers for caravans on the road from Suzail to Valkur's Roar, Joric Battle-Born would offer to hire himself out at a very affordable rate to any caravan passing through. Whether it's a desire to do good or simply a thirst for battle are reasons of his own, though he'd seem genuine enough to any would be employers.
Active Joric Battle-Born Colin Darkhand Dave Marcus Lyon
Acts of banditry along the stretch of road between Valkur's Roar and Shallybrook would see a second slight rise over the coming nights. Lone travelers, poorly defended tradesmen and perceived weaker adventurers are targeted. There has always been dangers associated with traveling this road from the likes of bandit scum, goblin raiders and worg packs. This increased activity seems intended to deepen the shadow of strife that looms over the area.
When payment is not surrendered immediately, the travelers are savagely murdered and left sat beside a tree or boulder with all their valuables taken. Clutched tightly within their cold, dead hands are left rolled up pieces of parchment baring drawings of the symbol of Cyric surrounded by a random mass of strokes that form a maze like pattern. Some of the corpses would have had their heads removed, others not so.
The bloody corpse of an armored human woman was left beside the road between Valkur's Roar and Greatgaunt. Its plate armor was riddled with countless puncture holes, the wounds showing a slight graying of the flesh. This killing may have been religiously motivated. The corpses shield bore the holy symbol of Torm. Clutched tightly within its cold, dead hand would be left a rolled up piece of parchment bearing the symbol of Cyric surrounded by a random mass of strokes that form a maze like pattern. The stretch of road here would be marred with bloody foot prints scattered haphazardly as if a long, drawn out fight had taken place.
// I left a holy symbol of Cyric item beside the body in game but with the area resets, it has probably been lost. Unless someone stumbled across it first.
The mass of crimson foot prints would be haphazardly spread around the roadside as if a battle had ensued. A few partial prints would lead off towards Valkur's Roar a short distance before ending.
A skilled tracker may follow a trail north towards the Mistwood before being lost, a broken and empty potion bottle may be found beside a rock near the forest edge. The label would identify it as a potion of invisibility. The trail within the Mistwood would be impossible to follow even for a skilled tracker, bad weather and other tracks would obscure the trail to an impossible end.
// Very true, I wasn't saying that it made her tracks invisible. I meant to give the impression that the tracks become difficult to follow because I can't remember where she went after entering the mistwood. At some point after entering the mistwood, the trail has to be lost as she's long gone. I just wanted to give some extra detail of the direction she went for unknown.
A black raven swoops in low over the mistwood just above the tree tops. As it reaches the tree line, it lifts its feathery wings up and sinks downwards. In a somewhat uncontrolled and undignified manner it flutters down low and drops onto the soft bed of grass. Stunned for a brief moment, it then launches up onto its feet and prunes its feathers with its thick bill. Its head turns quickly as its beady eyes check the surroundings. Satisfied, it begins to swiftly bound forwards in short jumps until it closes up to a bloody corpse on the roadside. It makes one final bound up onto the bodies chest and cranes its neck high to peer about once more. The ravens beak snaps "prruk-prruk". The corpse is that of an elven male garbed in punctured armor, shield and blade at its side. The raven shuffles up the torso until reaching the head. It picks and pecks at the head, ripping the skin and flesh from the cheeks and poking at the cold, lifeless eyes. At intervals it would halt its feasting to peer about the surroundings, alert for any dangers.
A short time passes and soon other ravens find their way to the scene, each joining the first in the bountiful feast. Grim calls emit from the rabble of birds and in a short time the entire road side becomes populated by dozens of them, "prruk-prruks" echo throughout the night.
By mornings light, the corpse is stripped of the majority of its flesh and only two or three ravens remain about the roadside, bounding and cawing to each other. Any who come across these remains would find that the skeletal fingers clutch a bloody piece of parchment baring a drawing of the symbol of Cyric surrounded by a random mass of strokes that form a maze like pattern.