The Misfits: Ashy's Story Hour! (updated 12/12/07)


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    The Misfits: Ashy's Story Hour! (updated 12/12/07)

    As so begins my new story hour! The campaign is several sessions in at the moment and I've decided to start writing with session 5 and work my way backwards and forwards in time until they are all complete! Much has already been done, so look for tons of story coming soon!

    The campaign is what I call an "off-the-cuff homebrew" - this campaign started as a one-shot, one-night game and it has grown almost out of control! But hey, that's a good thing, right?

    The party is as follows:
    Quela - female Nixie Pal9 of the One (has a giant eel steed, "Ang")
    Vaskesh - male Lizardfolk Rgr8 (has a croc follower, "Ssesk")
    Karma Silverclaw - female Wemic Drd5/War1
    Oricx - male water genasi Pal10 of the One
    Jekka Brokentusk - female Bar6/Ftr5/CoO1 (has a male horned goblin Ftr/Bar cohort, "Ug" and a warhorse, "Kalba")
    Dromar - male fey'ri Rog3/Sor5 (has a cat familiar, "Midnight")

    You can see why they are called The Misfits! Feel free to drop by our forums and say hello!

    NPC Pics, Story Hours, and much more Info here
    Last edited by Ashy; Wednesday, 13th December, 2006 at 03:36 AM.
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    Placeholder post - session #2
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    Placeholder post - session #3
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    Placeholder post - session #4
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    Session 5 (4-22-05) - Storm clouds burst, parts 1-4

    Oricx stepped through the glowing portal into the parlor of the recently deceased Mayor Morningstar. He instantly began blinking his large black eyes as they adjusted to the relative brightness of the mid-morning sun as it filtered in through the plate glass windows. Nearby, Karma opened a large, vertically-slitted eye to see what had disturbed her “cat nap”. Upon seeing that it was the water genasi, she yawned and stretched like the massive feline she was, her paws reflexively digging into the stone floor of the parlor.

    “What news from the Temple?” she asked sleepily.

    “Much and all of import; gather the others – quickly.” Oricx replied in his usual curt, clipped manner.

    Karma had come to expect this from the unusual paladin – at first it had been a bit off-putting, but she soon came to learn that it was just his way. Now, she merely accepted it. After all, if this group could accept her – a wemic from a land unlike their own and even more-so, one who followed a faith distinct from their own – then she could accept the manner in which Oricx spoke. She nodded, rose and made her way to the door. As Karma pulled it open, she turned her leonine visage towards the water genasi.

    “Why all of the rashness?” she asked casually, never expecting the answer, which would change her life forever.

    Oricx fixed his gaze, as deep and as unfathomable as the lightless reaches of his benthic home on the wemic and intoned, “The Misfits have been summoned before the High Council…”


    Several reiterations and multiple confused questions later, the rag-tag group known colloquially as “The Misfits” had stepped through the recently created, shimmering portal to emerge in a small, secluded prayer room squirreled away in a little visited wing of the massive Temple of the One. The portal winked out of existence behind them, its borders framed by a bas-relief depiction of the circular symbol of the One. For many of the Misfits, this was their first glimpse of the oft-spoken of temple and for Karma and Ug; this was their first time to ever step foot off the continent which had been “home” for their entire lives.

    Ug let out a low, long whistle. “Wowwee-zowwee, ‘dis is some temple!”, the horned goblin said, mistakenly assuming that the tiny prayer room was the entire temple and yet still amazed at its beauty and relative size.

    Jekka chuckled, patting her simple-minded cohort on the head, “Ug should wait’n see BIG rooms”, the half-orc smiled as she saw Ug’s eyes grow as large as saucers.

    “Da BIG rooms?!?!?” Ug repeated incredulously, awe filling his voice.

    Quela and Oricx led the way, both of the holy warriors feeling a strange mixture of worry and excitement at once. Never before had even they, relatively powerful paladins in the Church of the One, been summoned before the High Council and now their entire group? Something was up and whatever it was, it was BIG – bigger even than Ug’s slack-jawed impression of his current surroundings.

    The companions wound their way along vaulted flowstone corridors marvelling at the serene beauty of the place; enormous soaring and twisting pillars whose construction should not have been possible (outside the realm of powerful magic) surrounded them like a forest of embellished, living stone. Every surface transitioned naturally into the next and was adorned by statuary and bas-relief images that seemed to grow naturally out of walls and pillars. As they walked, the two paladins explained that the incredible, striking architectural design of the temple was made possible by an unusual substance found deep beneath the surface of the ocean. Known as flowstone, the entire Temple of the One - from its spire nearly a half a mile above their heads to the base of the temple, rooted at the bottom of the Eternal Ocean many miles beneath their feet - was crafted from its unusual properties and substance.

    Soon the Misfits found themselves escorted into the High Chamber of the Council of the One. Everything that they had seen before seemed to pale in comparison. The chamber itself was massive and dome-like; the walls flanking either side of the cavernous space was braced by graceful, flowing buttresses that curved first inward and then outwards and upwards, much like the protective wings of some titanic celestial guardian. The buttresses themselves were festooned with images of the symbol of the One, statuary of saints, prophets, and holy warriors of the Church through the ages. Quela and Oricx had heard tales and read scripture of many of these famous souls, and felt a warmth flow over them as they walked beneath their stoney gazes.

    Between the buttresses the flowstone took on a unique quality, like stained glass, it became both translucent and somehow malleable so that it had been formed into multi-colored scenes of the holy text of the One. Before the party's eyes they saw in vivid, shining color the creation of Urth, the birth of the angles, the fashioning of the elves in all of their pseudo-divinity, the passing down of the Law, and many more scenes. The entire room was filled with a holy aura and a warm, welcoming glow.

    Of the group, only Dromar felt uncomfortable within the Temple and even more so, within the Chamber. It seemed to the fey'ri that everyone and everything within those walls seemed to be staring at him - and their eyes were screaming out that he was, and would always be, nothing more than a demon-spawned creation of Hell itself...


    “Welcome, Misfits, our hearts are gladdened that you were able to comply with our summons”, the sonorous base voice of High Lord Marszten echoed through the High Chamber, but many of those gathered there felt that it would have done so anywhere, flowstone-crafted amphitheater or no. The older man, who appeared somewhere in his well-preserved sixties was large and intimidating looking, dwarfing the hardwood pulpit before him. Yet, for all of his size and stature, he had a friendly air about him and his smile was completely warm and genuine.

    Dromar noticed that along the right side of the massive “V” shaped table that swept out from the center pulpit, several of the robed and bedecked priests looked at him sourly and then spoke in hand-hidden whispers. Their looks made his skin crawl more than any demon-borne glare he had ever received. His attention, however, as well as that of his new companions, was soon directed back to the center of the room and the white-and-gold adorned speaker.

    “There is much to discuss this morn and little time in which to complete the task, so I shall set directly to the task…” The next several moments were filled with the High Priest going over the changes that were to take place within the Seafoam settlement. Initially, the Misfits were to receive an official church charter so long as an oath was taken and an agreement signed by all members. Each individual would be given title within the Church as well as a monthly stipend (1,000 gold halos) and the Misfits would now fall under a militaristic organizational structure. Quela was to assume the role of party leader and commander, with Oricx her immediate junior and Jekka their immediate subordinate. Beneath those three heads the others were to be organized as needed.

    Additionally, High Lord Marszten was overjoyed to announce that Jekka had decided to become an official member of the Church of the One, taking on the mantel of a Champion of the One. The group, especially Oricx and Quela, were as gleeful as they were surprised to hear this and many congratulations were given amongst them.

    The High Priest went on to explain the details of the church-sponsored assistance that the Misfits were to receive: twenty hardened warriors of the church (four detachments: one each of humans, halflings, half-orcs and dwarves), ten skilled adepts, three powerful clerics, six mercenary fighters, and Zhanna, who was a cleric and aspiring paladin. Then, Lord Marszten introduced them to the gruff but battle-hardened Gunnar Grayrune, dwarven warrior-priest. Gunnar was to report directly to Quela, or Oricx in her stead, and none other.

    Lord Marszten took a few moments to then address a few questions from the party (namely, Vaskesh’s concerns about getting his tridents enchanted), but then his smile faded slightly and his voice took on a graver tone: “Finally”, he said, “there is the issue of all of the strange goings-on in Seafoam and the surrounding areas. There are many things there that require – no demand - a great deal of investigation. Further, there is the issue of the town being without a Mayor, the events thereof are also highly in question-”, Lord Marszten paused, licking his lips; his eyes shifting subtly to the right before continuing, “and to serve all of these ends, the Church has decided to send in the High Inquisitor.”

    Dromar’s keen eyes again caught some movement out of the right side of the room. Now those who had before looked at him sourly gazed upon him with lean, hungry looks. Dromar suddenly felt like a hunted animal – like the hounds of hell were about to start baying; that he would soon feel them nipping at his heels. It was a well-known feeling to him.

    But that did not make feeling it any better…


    “This business with tha High Inquisitor bodes ill”, Quela remarked to her party as they made their way down the massive sprawling hallways towards the Great Library of the One. The half-orc nodded her head, adding simply, “Jekka not like.” It seemed that the overall opinion was that the Church’s selection of a new mayor was not in the best interest of the party, but it seemed there was little that they could do about it. Quela explained that within the Church, there were several different factions – some of the more intolerant and sadly, the most vocal, of these elements were of the mindset that the current head of the Church, Lord Marszten, was weak when it came to dealing with those who did not follow the Way of the One.

    “This is all part of that agenda”, Oricx added. “The extremist sects in the Church are gaining more and more power, and there is talk of a war brewing on the mainland of Fae’gos – a holy war against the “heretics”.

    “We musssst know more of thisss”, Vaskesh said, his sibilant voice echoing in the flowstone hallway.

    Quela nodded, “Ya bet ya’re scales we will, Vas. I’ve still got a few contacts here in tha Temple. I’ll see what dirt I can dig up once we hear what Daubenspeak’s got ta say ‘bout hags.”

    The group passed through the massive three story doors and entered into the resplendent Great Library of the One. Gasps issued from the mouths of the newcomers to the Temple. Dromar wiped a bit of drool from his thin lips. At least four stories of books soared above their heads on both the right and the left as far as the eye could see. The center of the massive, flowstone-vaulted ceiling swept upward to a height of at least six stories, the space between the stone ribs filled with magically strengthened glass. The mid-day sun shone in brightly, warming their faces and calling them to snuggle up in a secluded corner of the cavernous library with a book or twelve. There were literally thousands upon thousands to choose from…

    “There must be more knowledge contained within these walls than in the Vault of Orcus!” Dromar exclaimed.

    “Ahem! I would very much like it if that name was not spoken herein, youngling.” A thin, reedy voice carried across the room in direct response to the fey’ri’s utterance. The group turned collectively to see an ancient and withered half-elf looking over the edge of a tremendous cherry desk that sat upon a raised dais. A thin, elegant face punctuated by a sharply pointed nose, wispy silver hair and chin whiskers and sparkling blue eyes greeted them with a slight smile. The half-elf was quite possibly the oldest living person on Urth; Quela and Oricx both knew him well from their many seminary sessions beneath his tutelage.

    “Master Daubenspeak”, they both intoned simultaneously, as if it had been rehearsed; bowing their heads slightly.

    “Please, please, younglings, simply Daubenspeak will do”, the aged half-elf looked out over his small, half-moon glasses. “So, are the infamous Misfits ready for their lesson on the vile creatures known as ‘hags’?”
    Last edited by Ashy; Monday, 20th June, 2005 at 06:46 PM.
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  • #6
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    Session 5 (4-22-05) - Storm clouds burst, parts 5-8

    Vaskesh sucked in several lungfulls of the sharp, salt air; the lizardman ranger was very happy to be out of doors once again, he had been cooped up inside for far too long and could bear no more of Daubenspeak’s “lesson” when he had begun doting over Jekka’s new cohort, the horned goblin Ug, and that thrice-damned artifact, “the brainrock”. The lizardman snorted slightly, thinking how the party had been duped by the seemingly sentient item – it had even begun calling itself “Huntress” as of late! Vaskesh did not trust it one mote, and had told Jekka and Karma that it needed to be dropped over the side of a ship in the middle of the Eternal Ocean!

    Regardless, he was away from it now and even though he could feel the item’s presence hovering at the edge of his consciousness, like a pesky bloodfly, he had “closed” his mind to it for now. He knew that this cut him off from the rest of the group, but it mattered little to the ranger – he needed a spot of time to himself. Vaskesh looked down to his right hand and saw the familiar sight of the pale, almost bone white metal ring upon his finger. His sharp reptilian eyes studied the strange, squiggly purplish-blue pattern that wriggled across its entire surface – he knew that he could contact Jekka and Quela whenever he wanted to…

    The lizardman stalked his way through the crowded city streets – many folk steered well out the way of his seven-foot, green scaled bulk – he had business to attend to, after all.


    The next several hours passed quickly with each of the Misfits set to their own tasks. Quela spoke with her contacts within the Temple in regards to the High Inquisitor and his standing in the church. Oricx meticiously made certain that all of the proper paperwork was filed and the necessary “field reports” were compiled so that the group could proceed with their intended plans. Jekka spent her time in the library with Karma, Dromar, and Ug doing research. Jekka was interested in learning more of the history of her new sect within the Church and found that her new mantle as a “Champion of the One” stretched back to the very foundations of the Church itself! Dromar and Karma delved into the history of the elves, which soon transformed of its own accord into a history lesson on the whole of the Urth itself… Ug ate several books, but did not think any of them were particularly tasty or remarkable.

    Within the library, Daubenspeak passed by now and again, assisting the druid and the sorcerer with their research. He would now and again ask Jekka if she would mind leaving the “new species of goblin she had discovered” with him to research. Each time, Ug would look wide-eyed to Jekka with fear plastered across his horned features and yell, “NO! Please, Wowee-zowee, please, please, PLEASE don’t leave Ug in ‘orrible book room!!” The half-orc warrior had to try hard to hide her smile, but continually told the aged half-elf librarian that Ug would have to stay with her for the time being…

    Vaskesh returned shortly before time to depart, weaponless and grumbling. A scowl was etched upon his draconic features, making him even more fearsome looking than usual. The nixie paladin, ever sensitive to her friends and their feelings, spoke up quickly.

    “What’s tha matter, Vas? Why tha scowl?”

    “Let’sss jussst sssay it isss not a good idea to threaten magesss in thisss city who are membersss of the Wizzzardsss Guild. They do not take it lightly…” The lizardman returned, the words falling from his mouth like poisonous grapes.

    “At least ya’re not in jail!” Quela commented cheerfully.

    “Yesss – they decided to releassse me once I apologizzzed.”

    The nixie placed her hand to her forehead as if a sudden pain had come upon her and shook her head slowly. Jekka merely chuckled…


    As the group traversed the winding hallways back to the ‘portal prayer room’, Quela quickly filled them in on the information that she had gleaned about the High Inquisitor. Apparently, her contacts had been quite forthcoming, but only to a point.

    “Bacillius’s a very powerful mage who’s only been a member of tha church for a while now. Little’s known about his past, but it’s widely rumored that he’s solidly in tha pouches of tha extremist sect. Apparently, he’s very good at doing his job, which’s generally, routin’ out, persecutin’ and flayin’ heretics.”

    Karma, unused to church politics of any kind, spoke up, her deep but purring feminine voice reverberating in the chests and ears of those around her. “Why, then, does the church support such heinous actions?” she asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

    Oricx answered for Quela, the quickness in his voice belying his true feelings on the subject, “The church, as a whole, does not, but there are many who feel that the church’s current leadership – Marszten – is far to weak to deal with the rapid expansion of the church’s borders. Many very powerful and influential church members feel the current open and accepting tone of the church should be forsaken for a more severe and unforgiving stance.”

    Quela sighed, her usually vibrant, sea-green eyes dimming somewhat with her apparent sadness.

    “Why?” asked Ug, unusually inquisitive. The horned goblin’s question drew a few surprised glances from the group, but none spoke their thoughts. Quela smiled and answered, patting Ug on the arm.

    “Tha unforgivin’ folk believe that openin’ our doors an’ hearts ta anyone and everyone – literally – that wants to hear tha word o’ tha One is foolish and dangerous. Those folk feel thaat only “civilized folk” should be allowed entrance and membership into tha One’s Flock.”

    Ug’s heavy-set brow furrowed a bit and a slight frown overcame his usually blissful features. “But den Ug can not come to One…” he stated as well as asked, his words tinged with sadness.

    Quela nodded, her mouth down-turned, “Ya’re right, Ug. But that’s not tha way tha One wants it: nor Oricx, nor me, nor even Lord Marszten. And that’s why we must be wary of tha High Inquisitor.”

    The horned goblin nodded; lapsing into silent thought. Jekka looked on and held her tongue, thoughts of her own filling her usually-rage clouded brain.

    Reaching the portal, Oricx asked, “Is there anything more that we should know about Bacillus? If he is the new mayor of Seafoam and is as hard-lined as we have been told, I doubt he will take kindly to our traipsing about through his parlor.”

    Quela nodded again, “Ya, Lord Marszten keeps Bacillus on a long leash, for a couple of reasons-“

    “Hopefully giving him enough rope to hang himsssself.” Vaskesh interrupted.

    Again Quela indicated the affirmative and then continued, “--As well as ta separate himself from tha Inquisitor’s actions. It’s said that Bacillus is powerful, well-connected both within and without the church, that he’s tireless an’ ruthless in his pursuit of evil. He’ll stop at nothing ta insure that tha evil’s completely rooted out and utterly destroyed. However, that means that in tha past he’s often stepped o’er tha line, but ta date, tha Church’s done nothin’.”

    “So as long as he succeeds, he is given carte blanche…” Oricx stated with disgust. He looked to each of his companions with his dark, unreadable eyes. “We must be doubly cautious.”


    Jekka was almost disappointed when she pulled her massive, muscled bulk through the portal. No threat awaited them, no High Inquisitor glowered over them like a brooding carrion bird – all was as it had been when they had left. “Meybe him not get here yet”, Jekka spat, offering a helping hand to Quela. The diminutive nixie scanned the room as well, looking for signs of danger, but saw none.

    The paladin shrugged, “Perhaps ya’re correct, Jekka. Regardless, we’ve much ta do. Preparat’ns for tha arrival of Gunnar and his troops, defenses ta be bolstered, and tha ruins-“ the nixie stomped her sandaled foot on the stone floor, indicating the secret ruins the party had discovered only days before; then continued speaking without missing a beat, “need ta be explored.”

    “What about Yilren?” Dromar asked with a hint of concern in his husky voice. In his heart of hearts, the fey’ri was more concerned with getting his hands on the items that he had weaseled out of the young, impressionable apprentice, but one does not survive for long in the Abyss without learning a few tricks about motivating others. He knew that if he played the “soft side” with the paladins that they would quickly help him obtain his goal.

    From somewhere deep inside the tanar’ri-spawned elf, a portion of his sylvan heritage screamed out and demanded to be heard. Dromar throttled it for the moment; flashing a winning, yet concerned smile to his companions.

    Oricx nodded, “Yes we do need to check up on the boy, Uuren, in order to make sure that all is well with him. We must also check the progress of his research. We requested it, after all.” The water genasi’s tongue, used to forming words in the near-weightlessness of water, had some difficulty with many of the air-breather’s word-sounds, in particular the young cotton-haired apprentice’s name.

    Jekka moved through the parlor to the front door of what was only a few days earlier the home of Mayor Morningstar and opened it - only to be taken by surprise by a hulking, helmeted figure filling up the space like a cork in a wine bottle. A large, hairy, smelly and armored cork at that…

    “Bosh wanths ta shee yash.”, the thicked-lipped creature slurred, sending a not-so-fine spray of ale-smelling spittle all over the half-orc barbarian’s face. Jekka’s thick jaw clenched and Vaskesh could see the cords in her neck standing out from where he stood, near the portal. He instinctively reached for his tridents, only to remember that he had left them with the Wizard’s Guild in the City of the One to have them enchanted! The lizardman spat a curse underneath his breath, drawing a cutting look from Quela, despite the seriousness of the current situation.

    The brute at the door, who looked (and smelled) more ogre than human as he stood in his patch-worked, battle-scarred armor, lifted a spiked mace – the head of which was easily twice as large as Jekka’s skull and bellowed. “Ish shaid Bosh wanths ta shee yash! Ish yoush deef?”

    “I see Bacillus has sent out the welcoming wagon”, Karma growled with disgust, twitching her tail sharply in agitation…
    Last edited by Ashy; Monday, 20th June, 2005 at 06:45 PM.
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    Wonderful! I can't wait to see how this plays out!

    -Ashrum
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ashrum the Black
    Wonderful! I can't wait to see how this plays out!

    -Ashrum
    Yea!!! Thanks for commenting Ashrum! You're my first official fan!
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    Just for the folks that are out there reading along - check the 1st post for some links, pics, and more!
    Brannon, Untold Co-Creator! - http://www.untoldthegame.com

  • #10
    Hello.

    Nice work Ashy, I'm looking forward to seeing how this pans out... kinda like a puzzle to piece together at the moment, but in a good way. Nice characters and dialogue in particular.

    Spider.
    The CR-never-applies Story Hour A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour continues with Chapter 13: Stairway to Heaven Updated 19th December.

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