The hastily concocted fabrications were undoubtedly riddled with inconsistencies. For instance, why had the vampires lingered here for so many years? What exactly was the artifact of Roshandar, and did it possess any value for research? Lynn was oblivious to all these queries.
Yet, his ignorance was inconsequential, for the acolytes of Roshandar were equally unaware of the vampires, and likewise, the vampires were ignorant of the acolytes. Both parties were shrouded in confusion and, due to their opposing factions, harbored mutual suspicions. Doubt never required a comprehensive chain of evidence; even in the absence of proof, the acolytes of Roshandar would boldly launch campaigns against the vampires.
What Lynn aimed to do was sow discord and incite suspicion, which was more than sufficient.
Lynn grasped a pivotal issue: the fall of the Kingdom of Thesayama had occurred many years prior, and the loss of an artifact was certainly no trivial matter. However, despite the passing centuries, the artifact had yet to be recovered, hinting at some intricate underlying reasons.
If it were truly as the outside world claimed, casually hidden atop a mountain, the Roshandar Church would have scoured the area multiple times over the centuries—how could it possibly remain elusive? There must have been unforeseen complications; whatever the cause, the acolytes of Roshandar were undoubtedly anxious. Therefore, even the most dubious rumors would merit consideration.
Dagger Valley was not vast, and their persistent inability to locate the artifact would surely heighten their urgency. With a slight nudge in the right direction, they would readily embrace the prevailing whispers.
For Lynn's team, both the Roshandar Church and the sixth-level spellcasters represented formidable adversaries; they must resort to subtle tactics. However, this was also promising, for once the news of the artifact's search reached a fever pitch, their true intentions would remain concealed.
Who would suspect that someone would use the artifact's legend merely to rally a band of brigands?
With this strategy in mind, Lynn swiftly formulated a plan. That very night, a raven carrying a message was shot down by an elven archer, and the inquisitive crowd soon uncovered the letter attached to the unfortunate bird.
The missive was penned in a standard, angular script, unmistakably the handiwork of a priest of Bane. The author of the letter claimed that his team had discovered news of the artifact in Dagger Valley, yet it was in the clutches of the vampires, against whom he could not contend. He implored the Bane Church in Santir to provide assistance in eradicating the vampires and seizing control of Dagger Valley, lest the artifact fall into the hands of others.
Though brief, the letter's authenticity was undeniable; it was undoubtedly penned by a genuine priest of Bane. The message was difficult to forge, and people quickly accepted it as legitimate correspondence from a true priest, though they remained unsure of its intended recipient.
However, the letter had been shot down. The elven archer, seemingly aware of the trouble he had caused, promptly fled, yet the contents of the letter had already spread, and countless individuals began to analyze its implications.
The letter was succinct, conveying but one thing: the priest had discovered that the artifact was held by the vampires, prompting their intention to invade Dagger Valley in a bid to seize it.
No one doubted the letter's authenticity, and indeed, the sender and the archer were part of the same scheme. After all, when rumors circulated that the Bane Church intended to undertake nefarious deeds, the populace tended to prefer believing in their veracity.
Though the details in the letter remained somewhat vague, the gossip soon grew more substantial after dissemination. Some claimed that the vampires had lingered for centuries in search of the artifact to gain immense power; others asserted that the artifact was so potent it posed a threat to the dominion of Bane. The most ludicrous claim suggested that the Roshandar Church had resolved to mobilize entirely for the artifact, leading to an epic confrontation with the Bane Church in Dagger Valley, which was poised to become a battlefield.
Such a notion was patently absurd; surely, if the Roshandar Church maintained any semblance of rational thought, they would not venture to the doorstep of the Bane Church for a battle. Nevertheless, this rumor had the most significant impact, causing prices in Dagger Valley to spiral once more.
With war looming, who would not seek to profit? Due to the northern expansion plan, resources in Dagger Valley were already scarce, and merchants, seizing an opportunity, were eager to inflate prices. The authenticity of the letter mattered little; having a rationale to raise prices was paramount.
Their actions only exacerbated the situation, leading to greater belief in the rumors. Various accounts spread in different directions, blending truth with fiction, leaving the populace bewildered as to the reality of the situation.
However, it was evident that some truly believed in the artifact's existence: for instance, within a smuggling crew, three laborers responsible for transporting goods were abducted at different times and locations, only to be interrogated about the route to the vampire's lair. These laborers were hardly heroic figures and readily confessed; they were subsequently released, allowing the incident to circulate.
This ignited further uproar, with some firmly asserting that the Bane Church was behind the abductions: who else could be responsible for the interrogations? Yet others contended that the Bane Church was not so merciful; they would not capture individuals only to release them afterward—this did not appear to be the work of an evil faction; rather, it bore the hallmarks of righteous intent.
Perhaps the Roshandar Church was in action—this was yet another theory.
Regardless of the perspective, there was unanimous agreement that the focus was directed towards the vampires. Having already interrogated for the location of their lair, what else could they be after? Surely, no one would neglect the artifact in favor of stealing a smuggler's winter wheat?
Such a notion was preposterous.
As the tale grew more extravagant, it drew in the interest of even more individuals. Although Dagger Valley was merely a hub for smugglers, some within had ties to external factions. In a matter of days, new ravens took to the skies, spreading messages to those outside Dagger Valley.
At this juncture, the veracity of the situation was of little consequence; it had already begun to influence various matters. If this continued, even Silvermoon City might hear of the discovery of a potent artifact in Dagger Valley, igniting a scramble between the two churches.
Logically, the urgency of the situation was palpable. Yet the Roshandar Church's team remained unusually quiet, exhibiting remarkable patience. Following the onset of external rumors, their activities noticeably diminished; after being rumored to be kidnappers, they even began to isolate themselves. They displayed behavior far removed from the reckless adventurers typically associated with chaotic good; rather, they seemed to be cautiously gathering evidence and seeking the truth.
Lynn's scheme had deceived many, but the Roshandar team alone maintained their rationality and composure. The ones most likely to take the bait were steadfast in their refusal, and as time passed, the anticipated arrival of the so-called Bane Church army continued to elude them, putting the truth at risk of being unveiled.
While Lynn's team's plan appeared to falter, this did not daunt him. If rumors could not provoke the Roshandar team into action, then it was time to employ more tangible methods to spur them into motion.