Chaos has errupted in the North.
The destruction of Tilverton by the returning Thultanthar (Shade Enclave) has sent a shockwave throughout the lands, Cormyr has gone onto high alert and is gathering forces (conscription has been ordered throughout the lands) and preparing to repel borders. This seems to be the worst time for these actions as the Steel Regent Alusair Obarskyr has assumed the command of the throne after the passing of her father King Azoun IV Obarsky and does not seem to the have the full backing of the Purple Dragons -- this threat to the north is a true test for her, winning would mean everything, losing would be destruction. As of now, calls have gone out requesting the honoring of all treaties old and new.
At the sametime, the return of Bane has bolstered the Zhentarim to the likes never seen before. The black army marches south through the Dalelands creating a serious stranglehold on the free cities of the Dales. Shadowdale's very own Eliminster has gone missing in these times, as the Zhents march close many have fled from the area. Multiple attacks have occured, but there have been no direct attacks which can only mean that Fzoul Chembryl - High Lord of the Zhentarim has a master plan that he is not about to tip.
Far to the East across the Sea of Fallen Stars, Thesk finds itself also under attack, not from the Zhentarim, but rather from the Red Wizards of Thay who have taken themselves a large chunk of the north and segmenting the Golden Way Road into pieces with checkpoints -- Tammar and Two Stars have been cut off from the rest. The Red Wizards have not engaged anyone in open war yet, however they are simply taking as many slaves with them as possible into their dozens of Conclaves which litter parts of the Golden Way.
Midsummer's Night is upon the lands now, this the time of Shieldmeet, a time of celebration even up here in the north, even amongst this chaos. As the moon rises many watching the sky notice a tinge of red tonight, and in the distance the rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning -- a great storm brews.