In-character hearsay about current gossip- Get it while it's hot!

[These should be done in-character.]

The pirate speaks to the open-air of the Crimson Finch, not caring who or what hears them. It's a tavern, after all, they surely must deal with alcoholics spouting random nothings in the air all the time. There wouldn't be any consequences... surely not like that beach-side bar.

"Zhe ozher day I saw zhe most abhorrent zhing... a sickly-looking pale red-skinned moss-covered antlered little bitch baby who cries to her mama any time she has trouble. She couldn't have been younger zhan 20, how embarrassing is zhat?" They snicker as they imagine absolutely no consequences will be had from this rant.

In the alleys of Eastlake, travelers of the void meet up and start to discuss openly in small groups. One notable rant was slightly louder than the rest...

One man dressed in a greasy and well-worn outfit rambles (Traveler 1) :
"You've heard? Those creatures decided to ruin all of this... TARGETING US THE GOOD FOLK!"

A young lad dressed in a similar outfit looks around and warily responds (Traveler 2): 

"Captain you might want to calm down, you know his influence."

Traveler 1: "BAH, LET EM HEAR. THEY KNOW THEY DID US WRONG. MAKING A DEAL WITH US GOOD FOLK THEN SENDING HUNTING DOGS AFTER US"

Traveler 2: "Captain maybe we should just drink indoors"

Traveler 1: "THEY TOOK ME WIFE FROM ME, THEY TOOK ME SON. SAYIN THEIR LORD WAS INTERESTED IN THEIR RACE. THEY THOUGHT THEY WERE JUST CREATURES FOR A COLLECTION"

Traveler 1 takes a deep breath

Traveler 1: "THEY PROMISED US A HOME, JUST FOR THEM TO TAKE IT AND MY FAMILY"

Traveler 1 looks around the many gazes upon him, tears drenching the front of his shirt

Traveler 1: "LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO ME. YOU 'ERE? MAKE A DEAL WITH THOSE VOIDLINGS AND THEY RUIN YE"

Traveler 1 fully breaks down and hugs the young lad

Traveler 2: "Cmon boss... Let's just recover and try and figure somethin out."

Traveler 2 looks back into the crowd of gazes, nods as if affirming what was spoken as the truth. And helps his captain into a Inn

A blob in shore overhears and starts rambling what occurred towards some random folk at Moonflower.

Overheard at the Fat Crab,

"Man- Y'totally missed it. Moonflower's mayor- Ada's apprentice- got married the other day 'n didn't even invite anyone to the event. Shotgun wedding on a boat, 'n they had a rager on the beach right after. Oh, yeah, everyone was invited to that one. Priest called 'em skanks, heheheh."

A drunken farmer weeps in the corner of the Crimson Finch, while a gaggle of other laborers and merchants gather 'round.

"The damn beast tore up my whole damn field! Ruined! I'm ruined!"

A merchant chimes in.

"I swear I saw the same monstrosity, and it nearly killed me! I was travellin' on the road to Eastlake, and there was a crash in my wagon. I pulled back the cover, and I... I couldn't believe it. A giant monster - something even Netharna's deepest hells couldn't cook up - it saw me and lunged. I fell right out of the wagon, and it vanished into the forest... along with a few dozen bushels of wheat."

Another man speaks up, this one red in the face and smiling.

"Sounds like a tall tale if you ask me. What'd this 'monster' even look like?"

A fourth man, an older member of the Eastlake Guard holds up a hand - or he would have if he had one. Instead the group looked at a scarred, mutilated stump.

"This looks like a tall tale to ye? It's no demon, and it's no story. And it ain't nothing blessed by the gods. A fortnight ago we were on patrol and saw a beast tearing up a wheat field. Figured it was a wild boar. Boys 'n I went to kill it. Woulda made for a good story and a better dinner, eh?"

He pauses, as the men nod in agreement.

"But we get up to the field and it ain't no boar sitting there. It's a... well... it's a..."

"Oh spit it out man! What did you see?"

"A gods-damned bug!"

The room is silent for a moment, but then the naysayer begins to laugh.

"A... a bug? You sayin' you lost your hand to a worm- no, a butterfly?"

The warrior stares back, and the other manages enough sense not to make another comment.

"It weren't no 'butterfly'. Looked more like... an ant. But... an ant from a nightmare. Twelve feet tall with two-dozen arms. Like a storm of claws and fangs. Damn monster took my hand and killed three good men that night."

The group stays quiet, and the warrior continues.

"I still hear their screams, the sound of their bones breaking. I can see their insides scattered across the field. I can feel my own fingers ripped apart in its maw. Each night I pray for the strength to see vengeance... and each day I come here, all too eager to drink and forget. Almost."

The others are pale, and the warrior grows silent. A somber mood remains, and the rest of their conversation is too quiet to overhear.

Dennis sits down at a bar with his third margarita, though a bit upset he had to keep reusing the same tiny umbrella.
He sighs
"I'm not a big fan of the government."
He downs his margarita, hailing for a fourth.

BREAK HEART NEWS FOR THE LOCAL AREAS NEAR EAST LAKE!

Local informants working for the Eastlake news branch, calling themselves the lovebird hunters, found a tip regarding a scandal for the decade!

Lady Pebble was found sleeping with Moonflower's sweetheart, Richard! 

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the weird bird woman was found dating the local sweetheart Richard! The strapping, dashing young man from Oakhold!

Now, please sign up for this newspaper. We have started to run out of funding.

Please. I have kids.

*sips tea*

A man sits at the bar, a drink in hand and the empty beside him. "'m tellin' ya," he insisted, slamming his mug down to emphasize. "Them librarians are a cult! They ain't no different from the others, just pilin' books instead of poison."

"They're books, Gerald, relax," a man from another table calls.

"You ever been hit with a book?! Them Tyrmrdis guards beat folk with 'em cuz they don't leave bruises!"

"Gerald's got a point," says a woman with an eyepatch. "I got a cousin out there. Not a scratch on him when he came out of that cell, but was soft as a peach."

"And that ain't the half of it! They make them folk eat paper," he hisses conspiratorially. A few people perk up, entranced by the oddity and the intrigue. "They're a bunch of them women-women-lovers, too-- not that that's bad, but everyone knows women join cults and men start them."

There's a lot of grumbling and booing, but not a lot of arguing. Every major cult leader right now is a man; there's not a lot of ground to stand on.

"What about that baby eater in Moonflower, eh? She's a dame?" says a man with a cigarette and a fedora.

"What about the baby eater? That walkin' string bean doesn't even eat the animals they raise! My sister's brother in-law Ted lives there, he told me," the woman with the eyepatch says, rolling her one good eye.

"How many people are you related to, Scarlett...?" 

"Damn it all, listen to me!" Gerald snarls, pointing aggressively across the barroom. "Ye mark my words... you'll know what I know. I heard it-- I was walkin' by that big ol' library and heard it myself. I heard that fancy Magister talkin' big-- and brand one of 'er people."

The room went quiet. People stared; in awe, dismay of such a bold claim.

"Bullshit." A man shook his head; despite his firm stare, his voice was... less than confident. "You're always full of shit, Gerald, c'mon."

"Y'all never believed me 'bout the sloth and that Tivis feller, but you'll see this one day. She branded a knight and an apprentice, and I'll bet you she's branded the rest of 'em! We'll all be paper-eaters with brands on our asses, mark my fuckin' words!"

"And like that," the bartender mused, reaching forward to grab the tankard before Gerald, pulling it back. "You're cut off, Gerald."

A solitary sloth keeps to itself, idling in the canopies of some forgotten section of a random rainforest. It is a quiet, average day. Nothing out of the ordinary, no imminent threats from any predators, and no concern for food. The sloth found itself engaged in deep thought as it hung from a branch, long claws all but denting the bark beneath them.

"...Branches are mossy today."

It had rained a little bit more the past few moons, it must've made the moss and lichen on the trees a bit revitalized.

"...Love a good cricket."

Crickets were always a tasty treat, when the sloth could catch one. It'd been quite a while since it had been able to indulge in such tastes...

Suddenly, a snapping of a branch. The clanking of armor, the slight rattling of bones underneath. A glow from the forest floor that was likely supposed to be intimidating, but it was more confusing to the sloth than anything else. The figure rambled and mumbled to themself, speaking of curses, of ash, of the far-off Blacklands's return to nature. The ramblings of a mad 'litch'.

"...Is that Kyle Tivis?"