A long caravan escort has been seen traveling down the roads from Ilmwatch, adorned with the Cormyrian coat of arms and that of other noble houses of the region. Some form of entourage is descending, headed on its way to Sarshel. People gossip and chatter, claiming it is an offer of royal marriage, or a call to arms against another outstanding threat to the Faerunian way of life, or perhaps just a friendly visit. Yet none that know the meaning of it confirm the suspicions.
From all along the Laviguer, from Outentown to Vlasta, reports have been coming in of a variety of incidents in just a short span of days, each as exaggerated as the other, but all sharing common denominators; corpses torn through as if by a preternatural force, with only chunks of sagging, dismembered flesh left on their disjointed bones. The howls of the wolves grow ever the more incessant, and among the common folk, there is only cold agreement as to what the final truth is...
One thing is certain; the clarion call that every extraordinary individual would heed is heard soundly throughout the Forgotten Kingdom.