Falchetto was the closest thing to an actual noble house one was likely to see in Vissio, in the old sense of the word. Most noble houses in this land were merchants who ran businesses, traded, guilds and whatnot. The cities were their source of power, which made sense for a nation so settled on it's cities.

The Falchetto were nothing like that. They RULED their land, fought and died to protect it and seize it. The estate extended across a wide swath of the savanah, consisting of row after row of well organized crops across the plains. The land had been flattened with painstaking detail, the savanah transformed into orderly gardens - figs, corn, or cash crops like tobacco: whatever grew in the hot climate with it's somewhat sandy soil.

It was indeed quite a labor to get constant crops given the questoinable soil, blowing dust and scarsity of water. That labor was supplied by a very large amount of slaves working the fields constantly under the sun.

It took hours to get through the Falchetto's vast farmlands, dotted by the occasional armed mercenary camp or patrol of mounted overseers. The patrols gave them an odd look, but apparently did not consider them a threat - and outsiders approached the manor for business, so it was not too unusual to garner special attention, at least outside the main manor.

Eventually a large structure could be made out in the distance. The style was old school Patrian - there were a few decorations, statues, and a fountain, but the place was clearly more designed for austerity and function then decoration: most noble families even in Patria would spend more money on fashion, and the place was practically austere compared to even the rich homes of the outer city).

Carts made their way into the outer walls fairly regularly, and there were more than few house soldiers - not just mercenaries, but the respected house guard, who were comprised of not only the most trusted house associates, but also included many actual members of the house: every member of Falchetto who was not physically infirm
trained as soldiers in their youth and served at least two years. They did not wear the heavy shields and short blades of the Patrian infantry - mostly carrying crossbows, spears and light shields, and some carried the dreaded mancatchers and nets used to capture escaped slaves or criminals. Or take new slaves in foreign lands. The other thing Falchetto was known for, of course, were it's deadly horsemen.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:14, Sun 16 Dec 2018.

Vasati only just held in a laugh when the whispers came flowing back to him, first from a young man standing near a gate house, then a woman tending a fire.  It had felt like a part of him had been missing, a limb leaving phantom sensations up and down his spine.  They were back now, and he was whole.  He tempered his reactions as best he could with a beaming smile, and slipped unnoticed alongside a small cottage.  Once he was sure he was alone, his form flickered and rippled.  On the off chance that he had been spotted on the road, he chose to discard the flesh he had been borrowed.  Better now to blend in, to adopt the appearance and mannerisms of the Falchetto's serfs so absolutely that not even their task masters would know him for false.


It had been far too long since he had cased a joint, yet now the action was so ingrained in him that it was almost reflexive.  He marveled at the way his instincts had in fact not dulled a bit, but instead sharpened to a razor's edge.  He already knew exactly where his target lay, and working out a route in and out should be child's play.   It took a little effort of course, even in his vanity he was able to admit that.  Still, a clear plan was well worth the expenditure.   Actually stealing a thing was usually the simplest part.  The tricky bit was, as always, not getting caught.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:38, Sat 15 Dec 2018.