The cleric entered hurriedly into the chambers of High Cleric Pholein. “The examiners have completed their assignment and prepared their report, master” he stated gasping. “Timely” was the reply, “leave it and be gone.” The cleric, relieved, left the report and backed out the door, bowing. Eyeing his friend, Pholein picked up the document.
The manuscript read:

“Child, Water Genasi, approximate age two years. No visible physical damage. Nervous system and autonomic reflexes normal. Mental acuity slightly above average for his age. Apparent shock induced by psychological trauma. No birthmarks or scars. Full recovery anticipated within one week.”

“Seems normal enough, maybe just an abandoned child,” Emil said brushing his cloak. “Don’t pretend to be naïve, my friend. You and I both know that there are secrets… real secrets in the world. Just because the One doesn’t see fit to expose his plan to everyone doesn’t mean there is no plan” Replied Ryan. “Well then, my friend, there is but one way to find out. When can we see him?” High Cleric Pholein chuckled, “Rank doth have its privilege Emil. We may see him whenever we wish.”

The old pair cast an intimidating shadow as they walked toward the Examiners chambers. Halls which were only a moment ago filled with busy clerics, suddenly emptied. Arriving at the Examiners chambers, Pholien did not need to speak to empty the rooms, leaving them alone with the Genasi child.

The Genasi child lay sleeping on an examining table which had been converted into a bassinet. Gently raising the child’s left foot, High Cleric Pholein exclaimed with barely hushed enthusiasm, “Ha! There, you see! He does bear the mark!” Looking intently at the baby’s foot, Emil spoke, “The power of the One to mask his plans to those He wish not know still amazes me. To think the Examiners inspected every inch of him yet could not see this mark. And more awe inspiring is the fact that we could describe it to them and show them and still they could not see it. We must inform the others. Now that we are certain, there is no need for secrecy. The One will guard His work Himself.”

It is widely held as fact that there are no secrets, however, there are. The irony of this is that if anyone knew that there were secrets, there would not be. Since the beginning of time, the One has set in motion a machine to change the course of evolution in His creation. This machine is hidden by a secret. A perfect secret. The One chooses who may know of this plan and who may not. Those who know His secret are powerless to share this plan with those whom the One does not choose to know it. They cannot by any manner be made to understand even the simplest part. Therein lies the influence and power of the One. Since the beginning of time, time itself has been represented by a perfect circle. An endless cycle of repetition spanning eons. Only a select few know of another symbol for time. A broken circle. The mark of a new era when the cycle of time changes and all is made new. The mark of the machine of the One becoming active. The mark now borne on the foot of an infant Genasi…

Oricx’s Journey is © Jeff Bates

The transition from death to life was mimicked in the physical world by the hurried extraction of the child from the sea. A young cleric snatched up his catch and ran in a notably unclericlike fashion toward the bowels of the temple.

“Master, a child has emerged from the light,” gasped the cleric. A deep, booming and authoritative voice responded, “How many witnesses?” “Three possibly, certainly no more. I retrieved the child too quickly for anyone to have gotten a clear view”. “You have done well; deliver the child to the examiners. Tell them I await their full report within the hour”. “Yes, Master” he said bowing as he backed toward the door.

High Cleric Pholein stood pensively for several seconds before speaking, “There have been others”. “You do not yet know if he bears the mark, Ryan” replied a form emerging from the shadows behind him. The old cleric’s brow relaxed at the sound of his name and a smile pursed his lips, “How good it is to dispense with the formalities of title, my old friend. There are few here who know my given name and fewer still who would dare speak it. Thank you for coming so quickly”. “I don’t know why anyone would fear you, you old geezer. I recall once pulling your young screaming hide out of a janitor’s closet in the temple barracks” chided the voice. “Oh for the millionth time, it was dark and the way the mop was leaning looked like a head floating in midair”. Laughing, the two embraced in a bear hug that lasted a second longer than that of brothers. “It’s good to see you, Emil. I wish you could have come just to visit, but it appears we have work to do”. “How long have you known of the child, Ryan”. “You were here when the cleric arrived, I have known since then”. “How then did you know to summon me?” replied Emil. “Because the sea around the area where the child emerged has been glowing as if the sun were shining up from the sea floor for several days now”.

Oricx’s Journey is © Jeff Bates

The wispy ebb and flow of the great sea gently rocked the tiny Genasi baby as would a loving mother. This particular Genasi, however, had no loving mother. The infant floated on his back in utter silence. Days of lonely drifting with only the sound of the ocean and the occasional passing bird had long since exhausted the child of his screams. He now only cried on the inside for his throat was too sore to release even the slightest gasp. Breathing was possible, for now, but soon it too would cease.

Day turned to night in an instant. Through the darkness created not by the failing of the light but by the failing of the body, the newborn Genasi saw a small glowing pin point far off in the distance. The glow grew brighter as he experienced a sense of falling. He was not falling toward the light, but parallel to it. Nonetheless, the glow grew brighter. As he fell, he felt himself slow as if falling into a large pillow. All motion seemed to stop and a gentle yet stong deep voice sounded from all directions at once. “Not yet little one, I have much work for you to do.” The world suddenly became sound. A loud crashing sound like a million sounds blended together in a horrid symphony of the end of all things…

Oricx’s Journey is © Jeff Bates

The companions awoke and Vas cooked some breakfast. He so loves to do so but the tastes of a lizard man are … a bit exotic for most. Jekka however always seems to enjoy these morning meals. Then again Jekka seems comfortable eating most anything not nailed down, and on a few occasions she has even tried that. After breakfast the companions open the portal to the temple, each stepping through, this time not knowing if the key will return them or if they are in for a long swim back to Seafoam. (more…)

Early twilight, the time when darkness gives way to the light. The air tingles with a kind of magic which courses through the body bringing an inner peace, a focus both mental and spiritual. Jekka chose the final watch for just that reason. The previous day’s search in the temple was not an entire loss; she and Quela had discovered a doorway in the lower chambers of the temple. (more…)

I decided to do a couple of things on the blog today, first - continue the “Jekka theme” that I began yesterday by posting her character sheet, as well as introduce a new element of my campaign (and Story Hour segment) here on The Misfits. This new element is called “Jekka’s Journal” an is basically, an in-character Story Hour written by one of my players, Brannon Hall (who plays Jekka Brokentusk). Look for this to become a semi-regular aspect of the blog - Hall cranks one of these posts out fairly often and they are all gems!

Enjoy, true believers!

The newly crafted dark wood of the great door creaks with a slight distressing sigh, almost as if it were trying to say in some long forgotten door language, “Not Again!!” The wood gives way to the force behind it as it splinters inward into the great temple. The dust stirred up casts a curtain like effect by each window and crevice that has warm sunlight streaming in to it. Quela steps in shaking her head at the sheer brute force behind her companion. Jekka shrugs her massive shoulders and with a slight grin says “Knock, Knock!” Quela, not amused at the second destruction of the great door in the temple, simply asks if Jekka had even thought about trying the door knob. “Yup! Locked!” Jekka grinned as she tried the other door knob on the intact door. The door swung open as if the wind had greeted them. Quela closed her eyes and steadied herself, “Let’s just look for any portals” (more…)

Just a quick note - I’ve added and edited a bit on Session 13, part 1 - I did not have time to finish what I set out to do yesterday. Let me know if you like and look for more soon!

The House of Memory…

It begins with a dream…a whisper in a dream:

“Are these the ones? Are these the ones that did this to you?!?”

Far away from Seafoam, Oricx sits bolt upright in bed, his usually clammy skin covered in a cold sweat; if possible, the water genasi is even colder and more clammy than usual. His large black eyes search the darkness around him in vain, as if searching for the source of the horrifically raspy and throaty (and yet somehow matronly) voice that still echoes in his ears. The paladin traces the symbol of the One in the air with a webbed finger and softly speaks a prayer; the warm glow of his Divine Father reaches outward from his soul, pierceing and forcing back the veil of darkness which surrounds him.

It is then that he locks eyes with Quela, his sister in faith and fellow paladin. As soon as the water genasi and half-nixie lock eyes, there is no doubt – they have both shared the same dreadful dream. It is the sort of dream that is impossible to remember, but the aftereffects – the appalling and sinking feeling that sits in the pit of your stomach and hovers at the edge of your consciousness – cannot be forgotten.

This is the kind of dream that can drive men insane…

Somehow they both instantly know that someone close to their hearts is in horrible danger… (more…)

Storm clouds burst…

The seven companions followed the battle-hardened brute towards Seafoam’s docks, wondering where Bacillus had decided to make his grand entrance. Without warning, the half-ogre stopped suddenly before the entrance of Arravis’ tower and jerked a thumb as thick as the pommel of Jekka’s sword, Sparkspitter, towards the door. Standing beside the door was an oily-looking human with pockmarked features, soot-colored hair and eyes and well-kept leather armor. Armed with twin long- and short-swords, as well as a strung bow propped at his side, he appeared hungry for a fight. (more…)