The first rumour arrived with the fishermen.

Which, Sean often said, was only appropriate.

Fishermen had a professional relationship with exaggeration.

“Three sheep gone,” the man announced loudly at the tavern counter.

“Three?” the tavern keeper asked.

“Yes!”

“You told the watch it was two.”

“That was yesterday.”

Sean leaned back in his chair and took a slow drink.

Eljara watched the scene with mild interest.

“Growing sheep,” she said.

Sean nodded approvingly.

“A remarkable breed.”

The tavern had filled quickly that evening. Spring did that to cities. Once the roads cleared and the cold loosened its grip, people rediscovered taverns with great enthusiasm.

And once taverns filled, rumours followed shortly afterwards.

The fisherman continued.

“Tracks the size of plates!”

“Plates?” the tavern keeper asked.

“Dinner plates!”

“Dinner plates are not very frightening,” Sean muttered quietly.

Eljara smirked.

“Depends on the cook.”

Across the room two woodcutters sat hunched over a table scratched with crude maps.

“…not going back there,” one of them said.

“You’re drunk.”

“You didn’t hear them.”

“Hear what?”

“…drums.”

Eljara glanced sideways.

“Drums.”

Sean nodded slightly.

“That’s unfortunate.”

Outside the tavern window Altdorf’s evening market was still alive. Lanterns glowed over wet cobblestones. Merchants shouted prices. Children ran between stalls.

Spring had returned to the city.

Energy.

Movement.

Life.

Inside the tavern, the rumours moved quietly from table to table.

Missing sheep.

Strange tracks.

Lights in the forest.

Drums in the distance.

Eljara leaned forward slightly.

“You think it’s greenskins?”

“Possible.”

“Beastmen?”

“Also possible.”

“Skaven?”

Sean shrugged.

“If the ground starts digging itself, we’ll know.”

Eljara sighed.

“That’s comforting.”

Sean strummed a quiet chord on the battered lute resting across his knee.

“Spring,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Everything multiplies.”

“Yes.”

“Plants.”

“Yes.”

“Animals.”

“Yes.”

“Problems.”

Eljara nodded slowly.

Outside the tavern someone laughed loudly in the square.

Spring joy.

Inside the tavern another traveller pushed through the door, mud still clinging to his boots.

He looked around the room.

“You heard the drums?”

Sean sighed.

Eljara closed her eyes briefly.

“Well,” she said calmly.

“That settles it.”

Sean took another slow drink.

Rumours travelled quickly in spring.

But sometimes,

they travelled for a reason.

---

SPRING & REBIRTH
🜍 Month 3 · The Turning of the Year
🜍 Week 2 — Rumours begin to spread

Story: Rumours Travel Faster Than Spring
Warhammer Fantasy Roleplaying Game — The Old World

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