The Daily Whisper: Issue 2
Issue 1
As reported on previously, a great temple to a god we now know as Ahuiteteo has been constructed miraculously by drunk dwarves during the more bodacious rager to ever tear its way through the decency of our fair town. Monks have arrived from the south to populate the monastery, bringing with them a crowd of people who have come to see Whispershire. We have never had any tourists in our fair town and most people don't even know what a "tourist" is. "Is that some kind of skin rash?" Asked one confused townsperson. "What?" Replied another. Whishpershire-residents have taken to pointing signs that read "Tourists welcome!" down dark alleyways and into shadowy ritual chambers where they have set up a friendly Whispershire welcome to all these new folk into our little town.
More than just tourists, other visitors from the south have begun arriving in Whisperhsire, refugees fleeing from what they report as "The destruction of the holy city and the terrible abandonment of the Smiling God." It's the age-old story of a truant deity and religious schism leading to a civil war. These poor denizens are reported to either never stop their terrible weeping or never stop their far more terrible smiling. Only time will tell if we have to put up with yet another new population of displaced weirdos.
Speaking of displaced weirdos, tension over labor disputes has intensified. The new dwarven population has mostly gathered on Pitch Street and that part of town has become the center of violence. Dwarves on their way to work have been beaten, shopkeepers who have hired dwarves have been threatened, and menacing graffiti has begun appearing on walls all around Pitch Street as unionized labor workers have begun their aggressive campaign to maintain control of Whispershire. In other news, Commonwealth inspectors note that town defensive infrastructure is sorely lacking and that the walls which surround our burg require maintenance. "Stick a catapult up there!" Noted one excited inspector. "Oh yeah or maybe a ballista or two? That'd be sweet!" Chimed in yet another overexcited inspector before the two got into a very chill argument over the merits of ballistas verses catapults. More on this, as there is more to report.
A concerned family of fishers reports encountering a whole new island in the Darro Sea. The family of fishermen report that they were cast off course by a storm and found themselves drifting close to a landmass they had never seen before, but they dare inspect it no closer for large serpentine creatures patrolled the area around it. "First that business with the gray mold that keeps popping up, now this? How's a man supposed to keep fish on the table like this, eh?" The salty sea captain, Ernest McGregor, said squinting suspiciously at a reporter as if the reporter knew the answer and was hiding it from him.
And finally, local Whispershire residents have become increasingly alarmed by the number of hermits that have arrived in the city. One resident, director Evangelista White, reported, "Agh zey eveywhere, you know? Ze hermits! Just everywhere! I see zem in ze street, offering me a wonderous quest for the fate of ze world. I see zem in my sitting room, begging me to save ze princess from ze clutches of ze wicked red knight. I see zem in my shower, using up ze hot water! Telling me zat I must travel to Wonderlost and face my destiny! It is so obnoxious! I have begun writing a stage play advocating for ze legalization of ze murder of hermits called "To Kill a Hermit." It is an inspiring tale of one lawyer zat stands up to a corrupt and bigoted system zat prevents us from rightfully exterminating old men offering quests!
As reported on previously, a great temple to a god we now know as Ahuiteteo has been constructed miraculously by drunk dwarves during the more bodacious rager to ever tear its way through the decency of our fair town. Monks have arrived from the south to populate the monastery, bringing with them a crowd of people who have come to see Whispershire. We have never had any tourists in our fair town and most people don't even know what a "tourist" is. "Is that some kind of skin rash?" Asked one confused townsperson. "What?" Replied another. Whishpershire-residents have taken to pointing signs that read "Tourists welcome!" down dark alleyways and into shadowy ritual chambers where they have set up a friendly Whispershire welcome to all these new folk into our little town.
More than just tourists, other visitors from the south have begun arriving in Whisperhsire, refugees fleeing from what they report as "The destruction of the holy city and the terrible abandonment of the Smiling God." It's the age-old story of a truant deity and religious schism leading to a civil war. These poor denizens are reported to either never stop their terrible weeping or never stop their far more terrible smiling. Only time will tell if we have to put up with yet another new population of displaced weirdos.
Speaking of displaced weirdos, tension over labor disputes has intensified. The new dwarven population has mostly gathered on Pitch Street and that part of town has become the center of violence. Dwarves on their way to work have been beaten, shopkeepers who have hired dwarves have been threatened, and menacing graffiti has begun appearing on walls all around Pitch Street as unionized labor workers have begun their aggressive campaign to maintain control of Whispershire. In other news, Commonwealth inspectors note that town defensive infrastructure is sorely lacking and that the walls which surround our burg require maintenance. "Stick a catapult up there!" Noted one excited inspector. "Oh yeah or maybe a ballista or two? That'd be sweet!" Chimed in yet another overexcited inspector before the two got into a very chill argument over the merits of ballistas verses catapults. More on this, as there is more to report.
A concerned family of fishers reports encountering a whole new island in the Darro Sea. The family of fishermen report that they were cast off course by a storm and found themselves drifting close to a landmass they had never seen before, but they dare inspect it no closer for large serpentine creatures patrolled the area around it. "First that business with the gray mold that keeps popping up, now this? How's a man supposed to keep fish on the table like this, eh?" The salty sea captain, Ernest McGregor, said squinting suspiciously at a reporter as if the reporter knew the answer and was hiding it from him.
And finally, local Whispershire residents have become increasingly alarmed by the number of hermits that have arrived in the city. One resident, director Evangelista White, reported, "Agh zey eveywhere, you know? Ze hermits! Just everywhere! I see zem in ze street, offering me a wonderous quest for the fate of ze world. I see zem in my sitting room, begging me to save ze princess from ze clutches of ze wicked red knight. I see zem in my shower, using up ze hot water! Telling me zat I must travel to Wonderlost and face my destiny! It is so obnoxious! I have begun writing a stage play advocating for ze legalization of ze murder of hermits called "To Kill a Hermit." It is an inspiring tale of one lawyer zat stands up to a corrupt and bigoted system zat prevents us from rightfully exterminating old men offering quests!
Perfection.
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