The day began beneath the city, where dust and silence had conspired for centuries to conceal a slumbering guardian. Deep beneath Nuret, the orichalcum body of Thrice-Forged Curate shuddered back to life, awakening to a world that had long forgotten his purpose. His golden eyes opened on darkness and plaster—his tomb entombed once more by the slow work of mortal time. When he broke free, it was with the force of legend, a radiant being crashing through the centuries like a herald of some long-ignored oath.
Above, the city thrummed with life—laughter, commerce, the gentle murmur of a people unaware of their protector’s reawakening. The cellar he emerged into was not a temple or sanctum, but a guild hall’s basement, and when he burst into the room beyond, artisans and craftsmen stared as though their prayers had just walked out of a wall. One among them—a guildmaster named Chiyo Robert—trembled before the effigy they had kept of him, a relic turned reality. They spoke to one another across millennia’s gulf, haltingly, in the broken tongue of the ancients. Curate, ever patient, took the ancient tome they brought forth—a manual, a scripture—and as he touched it, the machinery of the gods stirred. The book recognized him, and gears whispered in the language of creation: Welcome, Thrice-Forged. Emergency activation protocol engaged. Containment breach… danger imminent… protect the town.
But the centuries had rotted its memory. “Containment breach” was all it could recall, the rest lost to static and rust. And so Curate did what he was made to do—he went forth to protect. The city of Nuret awaited.
Above, the streets gleamed impossibly clean, bridges of white stone spanning waters as clear as glass. The air smelled of fruit trees and fresh bread, unmarred by rot or refuse. To Curate, it was a marvel of maintenance, a city that did not seem to age. Yet even as he marveled, the stillness beneath the bustle unsettled him. The perfection of it felt… unnatural.
He sought the city’s leadership and, through the artisans’ reverence, found his way to Mayor Daniela Jodik. She received him with bewildered courtesy, as though facing an apparition of faith. Curate’s questions about danger and defense were met with genuine confusion—the city, she said, knew no peril. But Curate’s senses told him otherwise, and another in the mayor’s hall watched with the same concern in his eyes.
Lu Xing, Terminus of the Paper Road, had been in Nuret for weeks, moving unseen among its people under the guise of a guild emissary. Heaven had dispatched him to investigate a ripple in Fate’s tapestry—whispers of Abyssal Exalted, deathless agents of the void, operating somewhere within this city that time forgot. He had come expecting horror and shadow. What he found was harmony so absolute that it smelled of deception. The mayor did not remember the troubles he’d been sent to uncover. The people smiled too easily. And when Curate strode into the chamber, gilded and ancient as prophecy, Lu Xing knew at once that his investigation had found its axis.
The two fell into uneasy alliance, their purposes overlapping though their methods differed. Curate’s memory was fragmented, Lu Xing’s patience eternal. Together, they left the mayor’s bewildered office in search of truth—and, perhaps, something resembling a decent meal. The Inn at the Tides welcomed them with warm bread, cold beer, and the local delicacy: the Holy Mackerel Sandwich.
There, amid the smell of wine and fish, their fellowship expanded. Argent Penumbra, the wandering Lunar scholar, entered the inn with her companion, the formidable (and aptly named) Mighty Unicorn Fist. Argent had been sent by the Silver Pact to investigate a spiritual malaise—something stirring beneath the Dreaming Sea. But as she arrived, she was greeted by name by strangers. A kindly old woman had thanked her for deeds she had not yet done. And everywhere she looked, the city shone with an unsettling perfection that no mortal hands could maintain. When her eyes, blessed with the All-Encompassing Sight of Sorcery, beheld Curate and Lu Xing’s table, she saw more than mortals: divine essence flickered around them, and a god of ink and bureaucracy—Lu Xing’s attendant, Talaran—stood unseen by all others, calmly scribbling celestial paperwork into reality.
It was there, in that gleaming inn over mackerel and ale, that the circle’s threads began to twine together.
Argent’s sorcerous sight revealed the truth no one else could see: a faint residue of magic upon the townsfolk. Most bore none. A few glimmered faintly. But she, her companion, and certain townspeople shared the same mark—a shimmering trace that clung to the soul like perfume on the air. When she told the others, Curate’s eyes narrowed in mechanical contemplation, and Lu Xing’s quill-scribe paused mid-note. The magic was not illusion, not compulsion—it was something older. Something invasive.
They followed the evidence out of the inn and into the light of day, basket in hand, turning investigation into pretext for a picnic. Beyond the city’s perfect walls lay orchards and farms, idyllic and calm. Yet even there, the signs persisted. A farmer greeted Argent by name, insisting she had passed that very morning, though she knew she had not. Others bore the same glimmer of magic in their auras. Memory itself, it seemed, was bending in Nuret.
Lu Xing ordered Talaran to document every moment, every conversation. “Chronological or categorical, sir?” the god asked. “Both,” the Sidereal replied. “If Fate is misfiling the records, we’ll make our own archive.”
As they traced the residue’s source, the clues began to point toward the river—the twin arteries of Nuret, fed by the Dreaming Sea. Argent peered into its depths and saw two opposing currents of power: one light and elusive, like starlight glimpsed from the corner of the eye; the other a dark pulse from the river’s source, coiling upward like a bruise spreading through Creation. The people drank from this river. They bathed in it. They worshipped by its banks. And in the poorer district near the docks, the corruption glowed brightest.
The further downstream they went, the more perfection fell away. The docks were half-abandoned, the people listless and suspicious. A weeping child collided with Curate’s shining frame, lamenting a mother who had forgotten her birthday. Inside the nearby house, the mother denied the child’s words—and her own name. She had once been Mrs. Rose, but now insisted she was Miss Daisy, unmarried and alone. Her house bore the same faint spark that Argent had seen in the river’s current.
Everywhere they turned, memory itself was unraveling. A curse of forgetting. A plague of mistaken faces. A river flowing backward through recollection.
And beneath it all, whispers of another Alchemical—The Empowerment of the Common Man Through Industrialization—the green-forged counterpart to Curate, worshipped by the townsfolk as patron and reformer. He had vanished weeks before, leaving only immaculate streets and a populace that no longer remembered when things began to change. His teachings—cleanliness, labor, order—were repeated like scripture. But no one remembered learning them.
The investigation ended at twilight, at the edge of the ruined port. The water shimmered like quicksilver, sparkling with the same unseen magic that had marked them all. The darkness upriver pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. And from far beneath the surface, something stirred.
Lu Xing closed his ledger. “It’s not illusion,” he murmured. “It’s infection. The city’s perfection is the symptom.”
Curate’s golden eyes narrowed, his voice a resonant hymn of brass and sorrow. “Then I was awakened not to defend Nuret… but to cleanse it.”
The wind from the Dreaming Sea carried a strange, sweet scent—the kind that haunts the air before rain or revelation. The river glowed faintly in the failing light, as if remembering itself.
And somewhere in its depths, the Tomb of Memory began to breathe again.
Thrice-Forged Curate awakens and emerges Guild hall discovery and the effigy Ascending, he enters a hall where robed artisan-types (leather aprons, woodworking signs like sawdust) are eating. Shocked, they point him to a small shrine/effigy that resembles him. Speaking in the ancient tongue, he asks how long he has slumbered. Chiyo Robert, the guild head, retrieves a carefully maintained tome (made of magical materials) bearing a seal associated with Autochthon and a stylized image akin to Thrice-Forged. When Thrice-Forged takes the book, gears in the cover whirr; his fingers fit stylized indentations. A mechanical voice addresses him: Initial reports of oddities in Nuret Chiyo Robert mentions recent “weird things,” especially in the dock district: Thrice-Forged requests to see the city. Tour of Nuret (city overview) Audience with the mayor; Lu Xing’s entrance Thrice-Forged proceeds to meet Mayor Daniela Jodik. In the mayor’s antechamber, Lu Xing, Terminus of the Paper Road (Sidereal) is present under a Resplendent Destiny guise as a Guild representative seeking to expand trade (notably the famed “holy mackerel”). Lu Xing facilitates access to the mayor; Thrice-Forged introduces himself and states he was awakened for imminent danger. The mayor appears genuinely unaware of any threat. The mayor notes the guild emblem on Chiyo Robert’s apron resembles Thrice-Forged’s features. Agreement: the office will inform them if anything arises; the group will coordinate further. Plan to confer at the Inn at the Tides Argent Penumbra’s arrival and observations Argent Penumbra (No Moon Lunar) enters Nuret with companion Mighty Unicorn Fist following Silver Pact intelligence: Town impressions: strikingly clean, buildings in good repair, and pleasant; citizens are friendly. At the inn: The innkeeper’s daughter/young server welcomes them; explains house routines, menus, and facilities. Rumors shared: Food and drink are uncannily well-matched to patrons’ preferences without detailed orders. Argent activates All-Encompassing Sorcerer’s Sight; Talaran noticed Argent employs All-Encompassing Sorcerer’s Sight: Table convergence: Picnic reconnaissance and routes outside town The innkeeper’s daughter packs a picnic (wine, beer/spirits, and holy mackerel sandwiches). She shares favorite play spots: The trio heads west to the orchard: They proceed further west to the fields (retracing Argent’s earlier entry path): Field workers greet Argent as a frequent recent visitor, recalling: Joseph (a farmhand) “forgot” that it isn’t harvest time—one of several local memory anomalies. Argent’s magical residue findings; note-keeping begins With Sorcerer’s Sight, Argent observes lingering magical residue (“sparkly” traces) on ~10% of people seen so far: The group decides to document events rigorously to counter memory anomalies. Investigation in the dock district and memory-affected residents The party moves to the old south harbor/dock district: A young girl runs out sobbing that her mother forgot her birthday. Inside the home, they meet two sisters: Water source checks and sample collection River-wide magical gradients (Argent’s Sorcerer’s Sight) Along the river: At/near the harbor, everyone appears touched by the “sparkly” effect; elsewhere in town it is sparser (~1 in 10). City logistics and cleanliness links Nuret maintains two port areas: Residents attribute civic cleanliness and civic habits in part to The Empowerment of the Common Man Through Industrialization (a Jade Alchemical guardian figure): Open threads and immediate next steps (in-session) Memory anomalies include: Magical map of river effects established (sparkly downstream concentration; dark upstream source). The party intends to:Session Notes