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Misfits, Murders, Secrets II: “Look, More Freaks”

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It’s been long enough since I posted the first “episode” of this campaign (although these posts are actually all from the same session) that I feel obligated to link it again.

Xeroz continues towards the slave pens with Vashra, Yrisi and her raven trailing along. Needless to say, they attract more than a few odd stares as they make their way through the city. None of them are exactly common sights in Candle’s End, and Yrisi is still glowing, although the latter state of affairs lasts only until Vashra says irritably, “Hey, bird. Would you tell your mistress to put out the damned light? If this migraine gets any worse I’m going to have to give it a name.”

Yrisi obligingly dims the light and they trudge on. They do so in relative silence until Vashra, gazing ahead, says, “Oh, look. More freaks.”

A large group of people seems to have just dispersed near one of the city entrances. They’re a mixed bunch, from a variety of races and, as far as their clothing indicates, a variety of walks in life. Of course, some of them are more varied than others, and the pair that Vashra is focusing on certainly falls into that category. One of the two is an ogre, uncommon though certainly not unheard of in Candle’s End.

The other one is an alien.

More specifically, she’s a frost goblin. Goblins made a spectacular entry into this world some four hundred years ago, when they escaped their own dying planet by crashing large bits of it into this world and flooding the dwarven homelands. The dwarves, of course, were about as happy with this development as one might imagine. Some of them still aren’t over it.

Eventually the goblin and the ogre cross paths with the rest of the party, as player characters in tabletop campaigns are wont to do. In the conversation that follows, Vashra and Xeroz divine that a merchants’ caravan has just arrived in the city. The goblin, Fling, and the ogre, Raven Fireclaw, were acting as caravan guards, but now their contract has ended and they’re free to wander the city at will.

Xeroz explains their mission to the newcomers, while Vashra, not particularly under her breath, disgustedly dubs her migraine “Jommy.” Fling and Raven aren’t too sure what to make of Xeroz, who apparently attempts to solve latrine-based murders for fun, nor his companions the foul-mouthed half-fiend and … whatever Yrisi is, since the sum total of what anyone knows about her is that she doesn’t speak Common. They’re a little sceptical about getting involved, but somehow–exactly how is lost to the mists of time and this writer’s flawed memory–they agree to join Xeroz, Yrisi, and Vashra in their investigation.

[Meta note: to really appreciate this dialogue, it's worth knowing that the ogre has an INT score of 18, the highest in the party by a long shot. He also speaks in a cultured British accent and carries an honest-to-god monocle.]

As the party continues towards the slave pens, the ogre says conversationally, “so, bird, what’s your name?”

The raven (whose name, noted for expediency’s sake, is Alarra) eyes him suspiciously for a moment. “What’s yours?”

“Raven Fireclaw.”

“You not raven. I a raven.”

“Yes, I know, but my name is Raven Fireclaw.”

The raven turns its attention back to Yrisi. “Ogre thinks it’s a raven.”

Yrisi, who of course can’t understand any of her companions’ conversation, says dubiously, “well, I’ve heard that they’re not very bright…”

And so it continues.

Not long before the party arrives at the slave pens, they encounter a cleric of Torm who is–ostensibly at least–looking into the same problem they are. The cleric, whose name is Sendric Truthers but who styles himself the Brightsword, is a loud, gregarious figure who is committed, he says, to finding and rooting out sin. Naturally, he spends most of his time looking for sin at the local bars.

He apparently plans on using the same strategy this time around. The party members are appropriately disgusted with this approach, but also rather relieved, since at least it means they won’t have to deal with him…

And so it continues … next Monday, when I post the last installment in this little mini-series. That’s right, you won’t have to wait a year and a half for the next one (which I’m sure you were doing with bated breath. Mind you, given the contents of that final post, bated breath might not be a bad idea).

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