Continuing on the road to Forzcety our noble adventurers had to pass through a rather eerie wood. Known as the forest of spirits, it is a realm that the ethereal and corporeal mingle in one space. In fact, out party sorcerers (Markus and Barack) found their spirits walked/floated alongside them in this world – though the spirits seemed blissfully unaware of this fact.

Chocking this up to “This place being weird” in Barack’s words – the party advanced. Until Markus found himself teleported seven feet in the air and plummeting back down to earth. A giggle bounced around his ears, but little was harmed except his sanity.

Then, the same thing curiously happened to Aeyla! Though with even less lasting harm. Perhaps this creature wished to show the convicts who was boss?

But after redoubling their pace the party looked upon the great metropolis that was; Forzcety.

A city of many eras, with walls that didn’t quite look like they were of the same stone or architect. Each building seemed to be of different style and stature in the quagmire that was this huge city. It was Chaos; so it looked right at home in the Wildlands.

But after transporting through a gate, they find themselves in a village that did not match the view, in fact when approaching the gate what they saw through it’s opening was vastly different to what they were now standing in.

A shady looking man approached with a salesman’s smile. He introduced himself to a rather frosty reception as “Juan Dos Tresula” an information broke and servant of the one who really ran this town. Despite being rebuked on many occasions by the ever personable Loremaster, he warned Lucien and Barack that they represented the order of the real world and would be in danger.

Brushing off the dire warnings of an information broker, they continued to the very people he warned them about to register; “The Administration council” Only to be waylaid by a wizard in the stockades, a man who introduced himself as:

PHILIP THE PHASMAGORICAL TM

To shorten the amazingly convoluted and hyperactive conversation of the man who makes the Wildlands look tame;

He introduced himself. Bonded with Barack over hating Gonson son of Ronson. Heard Aeyla protest her innocence and that a man bearing the name Meister would clear her of wrongdoing. He pointed them towards the Master at Arms Legendary night Ser Meister.

And into the armory the party went, hoping to put the female Imberian at peace with her situation via a cold dose of being proven wrong. Inside the place, they were surrounded by a sea of halflings, goblins and a human or two thrown in. They all answered to one single halfling, a man named Maximilion.

Not so much a halfling as a Three Quarterling. 90% of his body mass was his upper body and he commanded a unique respect in the room.

The party approached and when he asked for a weapon requisition form, they had none. He told them to come back again and got back to work. So Loremaster Barack proving to be the ever diplomatic soul kicked the box Max was standing out from underneath him.

Max passed his Agility save and landed like a swole cat.

He gave the dwarf his attention again, telling him that if he wanted to fight he only had to ask, he taunted him claiming he’d prove how much of a disgrace he was to his race. Barack agreed to put up rather than shut up…

Swinging his quarterstaff twice, he did absolutely nothing. His first blow going too high and Max brushing the second off by moving his arm to the side, barely shifting his combat stance.

Barack’s face when:

So then it was Max’s turn. He landed a palm strike to the chest which sent the Dwarf stumbling. Following up he slid around behind his opponent and grappled his arm up his back, the encounter bringing all the business around it to a halt and a huge figure in half plate coming out from the back to see the issue.

Barack being Barack decided that as with any slight inconvenience that he encountered, this problem could be countered with generous application of Basalt. Specifically Golem form Basalt.

He released her from his ring and as the wooden flooring began assembling itself into a vaguely humanoid shape he found his air being constricted by the halfling’s uncomfortably muscled forearms. The dwarf couldn’t resist as the halfling strangled him into blacking out.

(Max’s face when he nat 1s)

Seeing his patron fall into unconsciousness, Markus being the convict he is gets out of there, as there are no answers he needs. He runs off into the tavern and has a brief encounter with the drunken priest of the town Father/Rabbi/Priest/Acolyte/Lord/Grace Pronton… he’s forgotten which God he serves but he as ever gives good rambling advice cloaked in semi spiritual bullshit.

Meanwhile after losing his quarry in the crowds, Lucien finds himself in the kitchens in his search and is entranced by the quite frankly astounding precision and skill of the chef; Og the Ogre. The big monster lovingly pets Syd when his duties allow and sings with a voice more becoming a busy housewife than an Ogre. Lucien finds himself getting along pretty well with the big fella and fetches a few ingredients for him while he looks around for Markus.

Back to the master of diplomacy, he listens as Aeyla spills her guts to Ser Meister over her life before being arrested for charges she claims are outright lies. An expression of pity is plastered on the ancient spell knight’s face, swiftly replaced by guilt when he realises his grandson is involved in her past.

He briefly tries to surmise the existence of a noble in Martessia your life is not your own, it belongs to the King. you will become a Spellknight and bring glory to your house so they may become the Kingsguard; nobles among nobles and the favoured servants of the king. His many escapades and adventures, coupled with his firstborn son being a mighty warrior himself allowed his family to claim that high honour.

However, his son’s seventh son was the man Aeyla met. Heinrich Meister did the unthinkable, on the day before his knighthood he ran. Deserting his duty to the crown and bringing shame upon the house, weakening their position as Kingsguard enough that the other houses could conceivably unseat the Meister’s if Fate shone.

Mister Meister partially blames himself for leaning so heavily on showing Heinrich magic, the child’s enthusiasm for it meant it was easier to teach so he devoted more time to teaching illumination. The boy had no taste for conflict and if he had not been so blind he could have stopped him fleeing. So a week after fleeing, he volunteered to be master at arms in Forzcety; the leaving parties and ceremonies for the most decorated knight in a century slightly diverting attention from the shame.

He guesses correctly that Heinrich had been a hermit for the four years, healing and spreading peace where he could. Furthering his investigation he proposes that a bunch of scouts bearing the crest of house Meister (Sunrise behind crossed swords) had found them wandering together and captured Heinrich.

By this logic he says that Aeyla was part of a coverup. In order to save face, his son (Heinrich’s father) would claim this lady seduced Heinrich or kidnapped him, perhaps spinning some fable of a pregnancy to lure the Knight away from his family. He doesn’t doubt Heinrich left and taught her his magic of his own free will, but by Martessian Law; as tenuous a concept as that is – she is guilty.

But his advice to the young Imberian, carve out a new life in the Wildlands. Use what she was taught by Heinrich to save lives and help people like he would want. He apologises profusely, explaining that he wishes she didn’t get caught up in the politics of nobles. He then told Loremaster Barack that Max has a temper, not liking to be treated like dirt. Something anyone should understand, but chides him claiming he should not have picked a fight with someone. He says he will chide Max later, but he is as much at fault as his assistant

The Tavern turned out to be the land of advice for Markus, as over to him came the bartender with a drink. Warning him that he was once a mighty poisoner and that he should be happy he won’t be spitting out his own pisshole. The two bond and as such the big Osrian leans in and tells him, “You’re new here so I’ll level with you. Play along with whoever they sent you in with Make friends, smile. Work will be here for you but you have to be alive to see it.” Markus takes this advice to heart and goes out in search of his pursuer with the approval of the barkeep. Who slams the priest’s head on the table; “Wake up you fucking lush. I’m not getting spit on my bar!” before spitting on the bar and wiping it when the drunk staggers off.

The party regroup and head towards the admins!

And as such meet Serah, the most overworked secretary outside of New York. She is surrounded by stacks of paperwork and bears her exile rune on her neck. Despite this usual sign of being scum, her politeness and studious efficiency impresses Barack. And the Young female dwarf has definitely become his favourite person since he left Godsreach.

She waves him in and there they meet the following fun chaps!

Michael; Martessian. Physically imposing but gives up a head on Lucien. Long hair is braided back, loud boastful and has the air of a soldier.

Puth; Martessian sycophant. Carries a clipboard for note taking. Was ordered to handle boring amdin-y stuff by the party and as such left.

Artisan Gur; Small by Dwarvern standards. Bears an exile rune. Is very old and carries a walking stick, but tries to act tough. Constantly frowns.

Liserra; seems ditzy, but is clever and cunning. Always eager to talk and shows a distinct lack of ambition or desire to actually do anything she thinks up.

Joe/Ghost in silks; An odd man who rarely says much, but his eyes shine with a confusing intensity. He seems to despise Puth and loves only his expensive comforts.

Michael:

Puth:

Gur:

Liserra:

Joe:

Here the party get basic life in Forzcety explained, a basic enquiry into what brought a Loremaster to the Wildlands, are warned about “The Spider” the sneaky criminal overlord who operates in the city. All around, hints are hinted, intelligence is prodded at and the party have played nice with the officials. Finally being citizens they do as the Romans do and go to the Tavern.

Walking into a makeshift bet a lanky Martessian archer is lining up a shot behind her back at two Goblins standing on top of one another with an apple balanced on the top one’s head. The archer missed, despite a seemingly notorious gambler betting on a hit.

Shit hit the fan and Aeyla quickly treated the goblins affected. Apparently the archer was making herself look worse so she could clean up in the rest of the betting. She said this too loud and things got heated. The twin goblins promised Aeyla they’d help her out in any way possible and offered some advice; AVOID THE MATRON.

So a dwarf a Martessian and an Imberian gangster walk into a bar.

There the bartender gives the Imberian a pint.

The Martessian makes a jokey remark about poison and the barkeep skips into the back humming. He places a white drink of stuff in front of him.

The Dwarf asks for something “Not from the back” and gets poured water.

Barack finds a bug in his pint and eats it. Gaining a swollen tongue impeding his speech for 1d4 (2) days.

Lucien grows a Fu-Man-Chu.

Markus has a lovely drink.

Somewhere during all this a drunken dwarf begins flirting with everyone. She then hones in on “Prettyboy” Lucien and even nicks his helmet while awkwardly being very forward. Barack is also trying to be rather forward but in fact finds himself barely able to speak over his own tongue. She begins to think he’s not right and tries to ignore him.

When he slaps her on the arse a mug is sent flying towards him, missing a good bit and thwacking the barkeep who is now in favour of dwarven genocide.

The mug thrower is the first Girl’s sister and begins throwing ineffective punches to Barack’s back protesting at him touching her. She begins to get embarrassed before her drunken sister projectile vomits all over Barack’s back.

The dwarf rubs the sick off on Lucien who is a massive germaphobe/hyper chondriac. Fortunately in the sheer terror he has the presence of mind to use his cleaning and shaving charm… though his fu manchu is lost!

< RIP he was so young.

Packing in after a rather rough day, they decide to turn in after a bit of a mythos lesson from Markus to the Loremaster. About The Seed of Birth he seeks.. The treasure of Woqreel that holds power of Rebirth, Immortality and perfect resurrection of the dead…

The party manage to check in with the Matron without incident… but one of the party has a gift beneath the pillow and an opportunity for work the others have not… Yet.

In the only bastion of Order; they rest while the land rages onwards.

