Strange rumors of ill omens seem more and more to be on everyone’s lips. Tales flow from tavern to tavern like ripples across a still pond. Druids point to subtle, yet ominous, changes in the wildlife and plants. Guards and Lawmakers comment on feelings of restlessness and unease in the towns and cities they steward. Priests and Spiritual Leaders can see trouble brewing ahead, like a dense fog wrapping a high mountain road in a shroud of dangerous obscurity. Individually, these portents seem nothing more than an average day in the harsh living that is Norrath. However, when considered together it is clear that the winds of change are blowing. While only minor, twisted zephyrs now, the astute can see the gathering gales looming not far out. NOTE: I know what this about, but I have been sworn to secrecy on pain of death by Bordael. :)