Otari Misfits - Session 6

Good deeds

The Otari Misfits exchanged uneasy glances as they watched the dragon claw at the broken barrels, scavenging for the last scraps of fish. The sight was almost endearing—the young creature, reduced to sifting through splinters for mere morsels. They saw no reason to harm it; perhaps, with time and guidance, it could overcome its nature. Igni, of course, saw something more—a mentor in the ways of true fire.
For now, the Misfits ensured the wyrmling wouldn’t go hungry, offering it a fat Osprey Salmon they had purchased from Tamily. The harbormaster had been understandably shocked to learn that a dragon was living beneath her establishment. Yet, despite the obvious risks, she seemed relieved that the Misfits were taking responsibility for the creature. When they mentioned finding a more suitable home for it, she made note of it but said little.
After tending to their new scaly companion, the Misfits returned to the fishery, where they found Tamily in particularly high spirits. Her usual cheerfulness was amplified as she beamed at them.
"I promised a reward for your troubles," she said, her grin widening. With a flourish, she gestured toward an empty table in the corner, and in a clatter of plates and mugs, she laid out a feast: bowls of crispy fried vegetables, a platter of sausage rolls, plates of cookies, and frothy ale in well-filled mugs. Four small cloth pouches jingled enticingly beside the spread.
Lifting her own mug in a toast, she leaned in conspiratorially. "As promised!" Her eyes twinkled as she continued. "I heard you talking about finding a new home for your little… pet? And it got me thinking. Every good adventuring team needs a base of operations, right? A hideout! Headquarters! A place to sleep that doesn’t charge by the night?" She let the question hang for a moment before delivering the punchline. "And I have just the place for you—an old fish camp I used to run, right up the road from here."
The Misfits exchanged intrigued glances as she went on. "I haven’t used it since I opened this place, and I owe you all something big. If you want it, it’s yours! Just be careful when you check it out—it’s been empty for a while, so who knows what’s holed up in there. Oh, and don’t mind Blue Finley—they’re harmless."
It was exactly what the Misfits needed: a home of their own. Its secluded location, away from prying eyes—and livestock—would be invaluable in raising the wyrmling. Still, they had a few questions.
"Why did you abandon the camp?" one of them asked.
Tamily merely shrugged. "Well, I closed it up for the season one year, and then, while I was here in town, I met a few folks and started up the fishery. Business took off, and I never got around to cleaning it out or doing anything else with it. The way I see it, we’re helping each other out!"
The Misfits considered the task ahead. Cleaning up the place would mean dealing with squatters and whatever wildlife had taken residence. The harbormaster gave a casual chuckle. "There’s always spiders, and sometimes they get scary big. Some of the animals in the woods can be a real problem, too. This time of year, there are probably a few boars running around, and those things are just always in a bad mood. But you’ve wrestled with worse, I’m sure."
Avdiy frowned slightly. "And what about this Blue Finley?"
Tamily waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, they’re harmless," she assured them. "They’re a ghost. Been there since before I bought the camp. They just keep to themself, so I left them alone. As long as you don’t bother them, you’ll be fine."
That detail gave the Misfits a moment’s pause—but only a moment. They had fought and struggled to escape their pasts. It was only fitting that they would have to fight to carve out a future as well. Despite the dangers, they agreed.
Tamily grinned and drained her mug. "Great, it’s settled! While you’re checking it out, I’ll handle the paperwork so you can have the deed and make it all official."
With that, she hopped up from her chair, flashing another cheerful smile. "I’ve got to get back to work, but you’re welcome to stay as late as you’d like."
And with that, she bustled back to the counter-turned-bar, preparing for the evening’s customers. The Misfits were left to linger in the fishery, enjoy their well-earned reward, and ponder the future that awaited them at their new home. It did not take long for them to find themselves on the road eastward. Towards the abandoned fishing camp.  

Home

It took no more than a two-and-a-half-hour eastward journey through the coastal forest before the dense trees began to thin. The trail opened onto a long stretch of coarse gravel beach, where the shimmering blue waves of the Inner Sea rolled endlessly to the south. Their rhythmic crashing was the only sound breaking the eerie stillness.
To the north, a weathered cliffside loomed over the shoreline.
A large wooden house, raised on aged stilts, dominated the beach. Its wraparound porch extended along the south and east sides, with multiple doors lining the west, east, and south walls. To the east, a raised outbuilding connected to the main structure via the shared porch, while three smaller buildings stood to the west.
Nearby, a drying rack and a long wooden table bore signs of past use. Closer to the porch, an old rowboat rested high on the shore, well above the tide line. A weathered oar leaned against its side, and a pile of dirty fishing nets lay in a tangled heap beside it.
The Misfits climbed the wooden stairs leading to the front door of the main building—the house that could soon be their home. The door groaned open on rusted hinges, echoing in the quiet.
The foyer was simple and functional, with a door in each wall leading to different parts of the fish camp. Hooks lined the walls for outerwear, while benches and boot racks hinted at the building’s past as a working space. The room was windowless and shrouded in darkness.
Avdiy raised his everlight crystal, its glow casting long shadows as it illuminated the space. Glandallin and Igni squinted as their eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.
Once ready, they carefully opened the door to the west.

The Living Room

Thick cobwebs clung to every surface, obscuring much of the room’s furnishings. Against the south wall stood a round table surrounded by wooden chairs, while the western half of the room held a loose circle of sturdy wicker seats. A door north went deeper into the house
Igni, ever watchful, narrowed his eyes. Movement. Many-legged shapes scurried toward them.
"Incoming!" he warned.
The first giant spider lunged at Glandallin, its hairy legs scrabbling against the dwarf’s lion-headed shield before sinking its fangs deep into his forearm. But Glandallin was made of sturdier stuff than the venom seeping into his veins. Gritting his teeth, he reached within, letting his instinct take over. With a snarl, he pulled back one hand from his weapon and struck the spider hard, sending it reeling—but his follow-up shield bash swung wide.
Over the dwarf’s shoulder, arcs of blue lightning crackled, leaping between the nearest spider and its distant kin. Avdiy, focused and precise, had his enemies in sight. He silently cursed as the first spell barely fazed them. Re-centering himself, he reached into the creatures’ primal minds, forcing his will upon them. The closest spider shuddered violently.
Then, the psychic heard the telltale hiss of valves and the grinding of gears. He quickly stepped aside.
From behind, Mortarion charged forward. His morningstar, powered by his mechanical armor, swung with brutal force, splintering the doorframe. The fleshwarped inventor would have felt regret—if he weren’t completely confident that he could fix the damage later.
The second spider leapt at Glandallin, slipping past his defenses to sink its fangs into his upper leg. If the dwarf felt the poison coursing through him, he gave no sign.
The room flashed as twin fireballs streaked toward the spiders. Igni hurled them with careful precision, mindful of their wooden surroundings. Too careful. The flames sputtered out before reaching their mark.
Glandallin gritted his teeth, fending off both creatures with axe and shield. Though his armor absorbed much of their attacks, their fangs still found gaps, scraping his arms and legs. He ignored the pain and stepped deeper into their reach, taking the risk for a killing blow.
A bite sank into his shoulder—he traded the wound for the chance to lift his axe high, golden flames licking its blade. With a roar, he brought it down in a mighty arc, cleaving through chitin and deep into the spider’s sternum. It died instantly.
The remaining creature scuttled back, its legs twitching through the broken doorframe
.Avdiy abandoned subtlety, surrendering himself fully to his spellcasting. As extra eyes surfaced through the exposed muscles of his arms, he raised a finger, sending a bolt of shifting energy toward the retreating spider. The spell flickered in and out of reality before striking true, sending violent tremors through the beast’s body.
Mortarion squeezed past his dwarven ally, his flail whirling through the air—but the spider was too quick, scuttling out of reach before launching a web at him. The thick strands wrapped around his armor, slowing his pursuit.
Igni was right behind him. He plucked a glowing ember from the aura surrounding him and flung it forward, searing the spider’s hairy hide.
Despite Glandallin’s relentless hacking, the combined chaos of flames, webs, and retreating enemies made it impossible to land a clean strike. A low, animalistic growl rumbled from his throat.
Unbeknownst to him, another bolt of mental energy flickered through the ether, snapping into reality just in time to strike the spider. It spasmed violently, its legs jerking as it endured the psychic assault. Then, with a final shudder, the creature curled up into a tight ball, its twitching limbs folding inward. It stopped moving.
The battle was over.

The Dining Room

With the living room secured, the Misfits opened the door to the north, revealing a narrow U-shaped hallway. Avdiy’s everlight crystal bathed the passage in a pale, steady glow. After a brief glance down both ends of the corridor, they chose the door directly to their west.
The fish camp’s dining room was so thick with cobwebs that the room’s details were nearly impossible to make out. Tiny spiders scurried along the silken strands, their delicate legs casting long shadows in the crystal’s light. In the center stood a large trestle table, benches lining either side. A cabinet on the south wall housed a collection of dull, dented tin dishes. The door to the east stood clear, while the door to the north had several planks nailed firmly across it.
Movement stirred within the webs—multiple spider shapes—and among them, something else. Alien. Humanoid.
Glandallin’s instincts flared. That thing had to die first.
He charged, shield raised before him like a battering ram, bursting through the webbing. His battle cry was so fierce that the humanoid form flinched back on reflex. Only as he closed the gap did the details emerge: a grotesque purple creature, standing upright like a man, but its eight-eyed face was unmistakably spider-like. Its elongated arms ended in jagged, sickle-shaped claws.
The abomination slashed back, its claws cutting through the webs—but whether from fear or disorientation, it missed.
Now assaulted by the monster and a giant spider, Glandallin held the line. His shield was all that stood between him and the mandibles and claws of the three enemies pressing in.
Igni entered the room behind him, pulling a glowing ember from the air with practiced ease. He flung it at the spider-creature harassing Glandallin, but the thick webbing made the angle awkward. The ember hit the floor and fizzled out harmlessly.
From behind Igni came the hiss and grind of Mortarion’s armor. The walking forge surged forward and swung his flail at the spider on Glandallin’s left. The creature recoiled just in time, dodging the blow and launching a web in retaliation. Mortarion shifted to the side, avoiding the sticky strands with a heavy stomp.
Avdiy stood at the threshold, surveying the chaos. Things were turning grim.
Raising his hands, he focused. The air around the spider and its spider-like ally began to vibrate, trembling with a growing hum. The tension reached a breaking point—and then, a sudden, discordant eruption of sound blasted through the webs. The creatures shrieked in agony as the invisible force lashed through them, their cries echoing off the wooden walls.
Glandallin tapped into a connection deep within his blood; his heart thundered like a dragon’s roar. With a guttural cry, he ignited, flames wreathing his body and searing the spider legs that came too close. The clawed aberration loomed just beyond reach—so the dwarf leapt, vaulting over the table to bring himself closer to the horrid thing.
He was perhaps too eager.
The creature, taller than him by far, met his charge with a lurch. Its mandibles bit deep into the side of Glandallin’s neck while one claw raked for purchase. The dwarf tried to retreat, but his boot was caught—trapped fast in a patch of rapidly hardening web. Another spider crept in, closing for the kill.
Before it could reach him, two streaks of flame collided with its side. It shrieked, legs curling inward as it tried to shield itself. But Igni’s flames did not abate. At his will, the fire surged—relentless, merciless. The creature curled into a ball and stopped moving.
The last spider fared no better. Its carapace cracked with a sickening crunch as it flung itself against Mortarion’s armor in vain. The war flail came down hard, the blow amplified by the mechanical’s strength of the inventor's armor. Its head collapsed under the weight, and the mangled body was cast aside like refuse.
From the doorway, Avdiy surrendered himself to his psyche. He pointed at the tangled melee between Glandallin and the spider-like horror and let fly a bolt of energy. The magic vanished from reality just before striking the dwarf, slipping briefly through another dimension, before reappearing at the last moment—driving directly into the monster. It howled, its pain erupting from every one of its many eyelids as psychic torment surged through its nerves.
Glandallin, still trapped, saw his opening. He adjusted his grip on his dwarven-forged waraxe and delivered a mighty strike. A scream followed—garbled, layered, as if it echoed in multiple tongues. But it was not a death cry. The thing still stood.
Then it struck.
The dwarf’s arm flared with white-hot agony as venom flooded his veins. Its fangs sank deep into his bicep, and as his weapon arm began to stiffen, it pressed the advantage. A curved claw slipped between the plates of his armor—jabbing deep beneath the breastplate.
Igni circled wide, moving for a better angle. With the table between them, he hurled another ember, but it missed its mark and sputtered harmlessly into the floor.
Mortarion was suddenly there, looming over the embattled dwarf. His gauntlet glowed white-hot as he clamped it down over Glandallin’s wounded arm, sealing flesh with sizzling precision. His own armor hissed and groaned in protest. Then the flail came again—once into the monster’s flank, then a second time, breaking off a chunk of the trestle table. The blows landed with force, but the creature endured, just barely.
Its body was still intact—but its mind was unguarded.
Avdiy struck again.
This time, the psychic assault was more than the creature could bear. It staggered, claws clutched at its face, eyes wide with internal agony. It raked at its own flesh in desperation—tearing skin, gouging through muscle, and finally, cracking open its skull in a last, futile bid for release.
Relief never came.
The creature collapsed in a heap of limbs and blood and twitching claws—and then was still.
  Glandallin leaned on the edge of the table, his breath ragged as sensation finally returned to his weapon arm. Around him, the Misfits surveyed the room and the scattered carcasses, taking a moment to catch their breath. A toothy grin spread across Igni’s face as he caught the telltale glint of silver—goblets, half-buried in dust and webbing. It was clear now: they would have to fight for their new home, room by room. But the rewards, it seemed, would be worth it.