[StarMann]

The west of Meranthe, the border with the silent expanse, has seen lower traffic in recent years. With the loss of the institute and the shrinking of Serenity the flow of goods has trickled down into a drought. What once was a flowing river of commerce has slowly but surely stopped.

Yet despite this, some things were still far too valuable to cease entirely. Shipments of rare metals, psychoactive herbs, evocative spices and, perhaps most important of all, people, still made the journey. But even they could no longer weigh the profits against the sheer losses.

It started small enough, what were assumed to be beasts predating upon camping caravans. Pack animals stolen in the night, leaving an echoing sound and a trail of blood. The animals were found some days later, completely drained of both their blood and, notably, their mana, leaving the flesh intact. Yet not even the vultures were interested in the resulting carcass.

These were losses, but they were acceptable, sometimes even expected. It was when the guards slowly began to suffer the same fate that an official investigation was launched. The great Sultans of the Grand Bazaar banded together in a rare showing of mutual investment and hired the greatest beast hunters that their coffers could afford.

None returned alive. And those that were found, were found with the self same injuries. Blood and essence drained to nothingness. Not even the incorporeal life was spared, the very spirit being shattered and devoured.

Eventually, patterns began to arise, ones that allowed some continued if extremely limited trade. The attacks only ever occurred at night and there was only ever one victim at a time. Either the culprit was unable to take on more than one foe at a time, or wished to remain as hidden as possible.

The situation has been kept quiet for as long as possible, aiming to keep trade routes running in ignorance, but the trail of death has steadily made its way east and has finally crossed over the border to Meranthe.

Something lurks in the dark and has its eyes upon your throat.

[StarMann]

Conditions have far from improved over the last three years. At first there was an almost snide satisfaction from the common man as the main loss of trade centred around expensive luxuries such as spices and silk. In places there was even open support of the downfall of the western caravans and even led to some entrepreneurs trying to use the situation to muscle into the trade.

Overconfident men accompanied with magi mercenaries poured through the desert and for a time sheer number alone seemed to quell the issue. The lifeblood of the desert trade began to flow again in a slow trickle. Whatever had been draining it had seemed to have moved on. The rich had suffered somewhat and some people had managed to make quick money, the incident would have likely had been just a footnote in Meranthe's storied history.

But instead things had simply shifted east. Those cheering at the downfall of the wealthy found their livestock vanishing one by one. If they were lucky, remains would be found. Drained of life in every aspect, blood, flesh, mana and essence. It started with chickens before moving on to cattle often finding nought but bones and flayed skin. Fields of crops reduced to withered dust. And with many of Meranthe's common mercenaries now in the employ of new desert trade there was little help to turn to for many that lived within the outskirts of Meranthe's settlements.

Within them, however, life seemed to continue as normal. Whatever befell the rural never quite made it beyond even national boundaries. Which brought into question the intelligence of whatever was perpetrating this.

Petitions have been made to the nation states, asking for aid in tracking and slaying the fiend behind this. And while the requests are numerous, they do not come from high offices. To help would be an act of altruism more than anything else. But each nation was free to give its own response, and commit however many resources they could spare. After all, who knows when this might befall their own fields and households.

[BloomeForme]

"Someone or something dares defile nature and strikes grief into those less fortunate who depend on the livestock? Very well, let us investigate."

---

It posed no issue out west where territories spanned beyond Caethir's realm of influence. Carnage litters the hillsides closer towards eastern realms and in turn, elicits growing concern. At first, trappers patrolling nearby areas swear that a pack of wolves decimated cattle, suddenly cutting off food sources; instead, one alchemist argues otherwise after examining their mutilated and drained corpses.

Lua Layloft presented his findings to Queen-Consort Caewynn, bringing attentions to higher courts while facing no opposition from them so long as he took charge. Those brave few from the Azure Order ride out on horseback with the aspiring researcher in tow, hunting dogs at their heels. Who knows what they might discover in their philanthropy?

⚔

The Kingdom of Caethir prepares to face the horror behind a trail of husks.

[Lena1545]

 
Numerous Petitions reach the desk of the various officials, including the Duchess’ own. The requests for support from the lands for those who were afflicted by the recent attacks, on the outskirts, do not go unseen. It goes without saying, then, that the prosperous city of eternal Spring would not remain idle.
 

Touched by their pleas, and horrified by the nature of the brutal attacks that had been reported, a convoy of caravans is sent out for the journey, bearing Arcadia’s sigil, escorted by The Minister Aelora herself. Followed by a contingent of knights enlisted into the Ward of Harvest, with Chevalier and Ayame standing in their command, they set forth toward the afflicted lands.
 

Along the way, they intend to distribute vital supplies- A thousand sacks of Wheat and a five hundred more of potatoes, along with water and basic supplies. This was no mere mission to distribute humanitarian aid, however. The individuals enlisted to distribute are trained, and they intend to find clues as to who may be behind such blight of the land.
 
“Solace comes from the City of Spring.”

 
Offered: 30.000 Influence

1000 Bags of Wheat

500 Bags of Potatoes

1000 Barrels of Grapes