The grey skies and biting winds only serve as severe reminders of how much colder it can be on the sea. The hull of the Grinning Pixie creaks and groans in the freezing waters of Kalsgard, at the mouth of the Rimeflow River. The spray of salt, and the sway of the ship make boarding more challenging than it should be. The ship appears almost exactly as it did on their previous mission aboard.. The pathfinders make their way down to the captain’s cabin and arrange themselves in the tight quarters, awaiting her inevitable arrival.
Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry, the half-orc captain of the vessel, shivers as she strides in to her well-furnished cabin and out of the bitter winds. A Varki woman clad in leathers and a snow leopard fur coat closely follows her and takes a seat inside the cabin.
”Ah, well met again Pathfinders. I haven’t see you all since that trip through the Gloomspires, to Old Sevenfingers’s tomb. I am so happy and relieved to see a group of capable agents walk through my door. I trust you are all comfortable, and ready to take some copious notes, if I remember.” She gives Ibid a nod and Cuyrs a warm grin.
The half-orc continues, “Welcome to the Linnorm Kingdoms,” says Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry. She takes a long drag from a hip flask before continuing. “The North is no place for a free captain, but here we are. Oh, Kalsgard is fine—they’ve got stiff drink here—but you’ve got to head inland, where it’s even colder.” She pulls her mammoth-fur coat tighter across her body as she continues. “I hope you all weren’t planning to freeze to death and packed for the weather.”
“You’ve all heard of Jormurdun? Well, that dwarven sky citadel contained an artifact called the Sky Key. King Gutheran broke it into five pieces and gave four of them to his heirs as they fled the invasion, keeping the fifth for himself. If my notes are correct, you already have recovered a few of them. One of Gutheran’s heirs, Naldak, traveled into what is now southwestern Irrisen and established a small town called Naldak’s Point. That’s where the trail goes cold. Most likely, Baba Yaga wiped them out when she invaded. The piece of the Sky Key and the ruins of Naldak’s Point are probably buried under a millennium of ice and snow, just waiting for someone—you—to go dig them out.
I’ve packed you ten blocks of blackfire clay to make the task more manageable,” the venture-captain says, handing over a backpack stuffed with black bricks. “Don’t forget to take these with you.”
“You’re heading east, up the Rimeflow and Thundering Rivers, past the Grungir Forest, and into Irrisen. Desna smiles—the site is about half a day’s hike north of Dalun, a small trade city on the Irrisen border. Take a small river boat packed with supplies and a letter of trade, make nice with the city officials, and see if you can get permission to travel inland. Head to the site and find our missing Sky Key piece. You’ll know you’re on the right track if you recover signs that the royal family settled there.”
Watch yourselves in Irrisen. Antagonizing the locals is like poking a sleeping ice bear in the eye, except it won’t kill you as quickly. The Society is not especially welcome in Irrisen, so try to keep what friends we have, and if you can, make new ones. With that in mind, I’ve hired a local to bring you safely to Dalun.” Venture-Captain Benarry gestures toward the Varki woman.
“This is Haltani, and she will guide you into and out of Irrisen alive.” The Varki woman springs to her feet gracefully and addresses the party. “It is always a pleasure to meet travelers from faraway lands. It is true that Irrisen is a harsher land than most. Keep your wits about you, and your journey should be profitable.”
Venture-Captain Benarry looks them over. ”If you have any questions, ask, or if you need any supplies, see the quartermaster. We do have a limited stock here.”
Kn Checks (History)
Knowledge (local) or Diplomacy (gather information)
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Cold and a ship... Ugh. At least this one has been more fun than the rest.
"notes and coats. Got it. So... Digging in the ice? No wonder Finarin isn't here. He must have finally got someone to listen to him complaining about digging and hard labor and such... Or that stick in the mud Valsin just found something worse for him to do..."
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"Haltani! A pleasure to meet you," bellows Lort, striding forwards to shake her hand, "And it is an absolute delight to be meeting you at last, Captain Benarry. My friends here told me of your charms when last you met - around the Gloomspires, wasn't it?" That is one marvellous half-orc. I'd like to tumble around belowdecks with her a while... Lort becomes lost in his thoughts momentarily.
"So, the Lodge lured me here with the promise of visiting the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, and they send me straight into witch territory!" says Lort in feigned indignation, "Well, at least it's nice and properly cold around here, eh Haltani? I'll enjoy admiring the lands of my ancestors on the boat ride as well."
Lort sits back and takes a sip from a bottle of Ulfen gulping whisky he procured from the lodge, and decides to strike up a conversation. "So, Haltani, I haven't heard much about the Varki. Nomads, aren't they? What sort of business takes you as far as Irrisen?"
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"Lort! Good to see you, my good man! Hope you've been doing well! Same to you, Ibid and Cyrus! Missed you guys. Been busy taking care of orphans and the like. It was my time to serve at the temple, you know. And by serve, you know that means bartend!
"So, how's it going, what do we have to do here?"
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"Grab your coats, and your digging tools. We are going to find another piece of the sky key in the ice! If we don't freeze to death or get eaten by a yeti. Good to see you again too Gunari! At least if we do get eaten by a yeti, we will be properly hydrated, if you get my meaning." Cyrus says with a smile and a clap on the warpriest's shoulders.
I bet a cloak made from yeti fur could be pretty intimidating... I am good at intimidating... but then people wouldn't get to see this lovely face...
"Hope you guys grabbed snowshoes and skis, since we are going to be traipsing around in the snow. And maybe an extra endure elements or two. "
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"Gunari! It has been too long my friend," Lort grins a big toothy grin, "But then, we always have been good at long absences from one another. How long was it that you were traipsing all over the Vudrani jungle for while I traveled the northern wastes? Too long to count, for sure."
Lort holds out his mug for a refill, "By Kurgess and Cayden both, I've missed this ability of yours! While the temperature is usually a bit warm for my tastes, I have the feeling that beer conjured in these lands will be a little more to my liking!"
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The old man nods and smiles in return to Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry, and motions with one arm, jostling his satchel in an attempt to indicate his unseen journal. "Aye," he begins. "This is a long way from the shackles for a free captain to be sailing. After we collect more of this sky key, I can only hope we sail fast away from here, all the way home on a full-beam reach... Besmara be praised," he says as a joke, making it clear he does not follow the ways of the Pirate Queen.
"Come to think of it, spending a few months in shackles sounds nice after dealing with the freezing temperatures of Irrisen again," he laughs a little under his breath. "It be a vacation, except one where you would have to keep your wits about you."
Turning to his friend, the old man continues. "Gunari, it's been too long, my old friend. I imagine you need to go out on a mission once in a while to break up your time spent serving at the temple..." the old man laughs again. "... because it's probably less dangerous than a night of drinking with you."
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"Gunari! Long time no see! Is good to have you back!" Amaranti greets the Cailinite priest, slapping his back.
"Nice to meet you again, too." the Garundi wishes the Venture-Captain. "Your ship take us all way last time, no problems. Amaranti not like when problems come when sailing. So, we go north? It must be cold? Amaranti not like cold, you tell me what must buy to protect self from cold."
"Oh, and what is blackfire clay?" Amaranti asks, taking the backpack from Benarry.
After requisitioning supplies from the Venture Captain, the Pathfinders set out with Haltani. She is a quiet, always shying away from physical contact. The Pathfinders observe her being most helpful whenever they need assistance though. Since none of the Pathfinders can sail a ship, except for Cyrus, Haltani takes the helm guiding their small craft through the frigid waters of the north.
The Pathfinders see the beautiful, snow covered landscape flies away as the boat makes fantastic progress. Each night, Haltani joins the companions around the fire, listening to the swap stories. Each night, she selects a new companion to sit near, gently probing for more information. That is, except for Lort. Though cordial, she is rarely seen near the large Ulfen half-orc.
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On the night that Haltani sits near Gunari, he shares his ale with her (and with anyone that needs some).
"While it is nice that we get to see Lort's homeland, the cold was just going to be too much for my little buddy, Gilligan. He's a monkey, you see, and they aren't much for cold climates. Sure, I could share Cayden's blessings with him, and I often do... well, actually, sharing isn't quite the right term for the little thief, but the Drunken Hero is all about sharing. After all, isn't that what life is all about? Friendship, adventure, and freedom!
"You know, I am pretty sure that all the world's problems could be solved if everyone just got together over a mug, and talked it out. Sure, maybe some would get a little... boisterous, and my half-orc friend over there once did, and tear up the bar... but then they'd just have to fix it all up. Nothing really lost, right?
"Still, what's life with out a little adventure? A fare wager, or a fair wage... or both. That's why I joined The Society! A chance to see the world, taste all that there is to be tasted, experience the world as it is supposed to be experienced! I've been down to Jalmaray, where we killed a nasty leucrotta, and I got my little buddy down there! Sweet barleywine, I've even made nicey-nice with a basilisk! Who would ever have thought that was even possible? Well, maybe the kobolds who trained it, but they are a little odd, don't you know."
The drunken priest goes on, rambling about his stories and adventures as long as she is willing to listen. He'll drop a fervor in there to Enhance Diplomacy, since he knows he's sweet-talking here!
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"I am Amaranti! Soon I ride giant worm of desert, and mounted I vanquish all enemies! Drive lance through their hearts, and see them fall before me." Amaranti has certainly taken his share of Gunari's generous supplies of ale, and all the drinking has made him a bit boisterous. "Now Kaisharga too small. It must eat many more enemies, so it grows and Amaranti can ride it."
"I serve Scarab Sages. Tahonikepsu, who is dragon. And Amenopheus, who is... Old? They search other Jeweled Sages, and Amaranti help find them. They lost long time ago, difficult to find now. "
"But Amaranti mighty warrior! Amaranti help them. Amaranti kill machine men with lance! And Minotaur! And Ass-piss people, who are evil. And many Kobolds! And demons! Or maybe Devils? Amaranti not sure, but Amaranti kill anyway."
The list goes on, as the drunken Garundi boasts his deeds. Despite his condition, Amaranti seems to stick to the truth - maybe he just doesn't have the imagination to add any extra to his boasts.
"So... Haltani want see Amaranti's giant snake?"
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"Ah, the cold air in my face!" bellows Lort when he finally manages to corner Haltani, "It seems like you've been avoiding me! I hope my Ulfen heritage isn't frightening you. I'm not entirely sure what relationship the Varki have with the rest of the inhabitants of the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, to be honest. While it is true that I have the blood of the north in my veins, I did grow up on the streets of Absalom."
Lort tells her briefly of his life as a "street orc" before regaling her of his travels up north, "Even their strongest warrior could not stand when Kurgess turned me into a giant! Once I was huger even than the half-man / half-giant, the battle had tipped in my favor. The tribe welcomed me back, for combat is always an accepted way to forgiveness."
Lort continues his tale, oblivious to any lack of interest shown. At last it ends, "And so, having cleared the name of my ancestors and being accepted into the tribe, I was then gifted with my mammoth-drawn traveling shrine to Kurgess. It is a beautiful way to show how good everyone is at the art of glorious competition!"
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Cyrus sees how each night the woman tends to spend an extended amount of time with the others, and the night that it is finally his turn, he realizes he had been greatly anticipating it. His heart skips a beat as she approaches him and asks to sit down.
"Hi. uh.. Haltani. It's nice to meet you. Oh, well we already met, but, you know."
Ok, take it easy big guy. Be cool.
"So I keep noticing how graceful you are when you move around. You seem really nimble. I bet you like to flank."
Not cool... Cyrus' face flushes a bright crimson.
"In a fight, I mean. I bet you are good at getting into the best position and really hitting the sweet spot. Thats how I like to fight." He continues, only stuttering a little.
Ok, I either just saved it, or completely blew it...
"I'm pretty nimble myself. I may not have the biggest sword, but I know how to put it in the right spot."
Cyrus pauses to smile for a moment, before the second meaning of his words hits him and his face flushes red again.
"What I mean is... Well there was this one time, after I stole and sailed an aspis consortium ship upriver a while, we were ambushed by a vile man from the technic league. He threw a fireball that nearly killed some of my friends. In the span of about 12 seconds he went from thinking he had beaten us, to losing his head. Literally. I appeared out of thin air and two quick strikes separated his head from his shoulders." Cyrus relaxes, believing he has saved himself from the awkward moment by fully explaining himself. With a smug smile he says, "Just gotta know the right spot."
Relaxing more, he leans back to tell another story. "... The T-Rex came crashing out of the trees, and we all knew it was a race to get out of the ravine before the consortium snakes. Not only was I able to leap through the rocks and vines like a tumbler at the circus, but help my friends through too. Even after we escaped the T-Rex initially, she still caught up to us. Turns out it was no match, we cut her down as well."
"Well it was great talking with you. I hope if we get the chance, we can flank sometime." Cyrus flashes another smile, his heart stopping once again seconds to late to take the words back.
Oh give up...
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When it is at last the old man's turn to sit next to Haltani by the fire, and tell his tale, he looks up from his journal at her approach. "I see it's my time then," he says to her, laying the dripping quill inside the book in order to hold the page, and gently closes the cover. "Oh, where to begin... where to begin..." he says with a sigh.
The old man's tale...
Ibid speaks of his initial upbringing and very regimented life on an island in the Arcadian Ocean, located Northeast of Cheliax, though the old man fails to mention the place by name. He vaguely speaks of running away from his home at an early age, and later washing up on the shore of Cheliax after some unfortunate, fated accident. Surprisingly, Ibid's tale then jumps many years, after he is an already established member of the Pathfinder Society, as if he is intentionally leaving out some painful memory which he does not want to put into words.
He speaks of various missions in and around Absolam, searching for eavesdropping masterminds and the perils of the Red Redoubt. There is talked of tombs near the shackles and temples deep within the wild jungles. Talk also springs of walking the streets of a snake's nest, and hiding in plain sight where the Aspis Consortium holds sway.
Not all of the tales are of dark and dangerous places, and there is a light in his eye when he waxes longwinded, using overly detailed descriptions of his time spent between missions, during their long voyages and travels. It is clear the old man more enjoys the journey, more than their dangerous destinations, which in all likelihood comes from his admiration of Desna (not that he is staunch follower).
Lastly, the old man speaks in great deal of Cyrus, and it seems there is an underlying tone of helping train the youth for some unspoken task that must lay ahead of them both.
"I hope that helps put me into a bit of perspective," he says, finishing his tale. "If you require any more information, you could always read this." Ibid gently pats the journal resting on his lap.
As each takes their turns talking with Haltani, they can occasionally see her remove a pale blue diamond necklace from under her furs and gaze longingly at it.
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"A pleasure to meet you, Haltani! We once met a man with a leopard. It wasn't white like that one. He didn't take very good care of it, so it ran off. Perhaps he would have started taking better care of it, but he didn't get the opportunity to amend his way of life." Miro shakes his head somewhat sadly.
"Anyways, I am glad you will be able to come along with us. Those who get to accompany our group always have a fun tale or three to share with their friends when they return. It usually involves Lort smashing things and Gunari drinking everyone under the table."
"Speaking of which, hey Gunari! It's been a while! I must say, I much prefer you to that Asmodean Faustus. He's a decent enough fellow in a fight, but his social skills leave something to be desired. Do you have a mug for a fellow follower of the Drunken God?"
"All the rest of you, it looks like we go from the bowels of Hell to the frozen lands of the north. If our bodies can handle the shock, we should be able to deal with just about anything!"
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After the late night camp fire chats, the Pathfinders notice that Haltani starts to warm up to them a bit, particularly Gunari and Lort, though she still keeps Lort at arm's length.
She seems infatuated by Gunari's stories, and particularly his never ending mug. The night they talk she laughs so hard at one of his jokes that she abruptly sprints into the forest before she wets herself. Whether this is because of his humor or the ever flowing beer one never knows.
After talking to Amaranti, she is not sure if he was hitting on her or just ignorant to the ways of the north. Needles to say, neither impressed her.
The large half-ulfen continues to scare her, and his display of prowess does nothing to diminish her feelings. Though she sees that he is genuine.
While talking to Cyrus, she has trouble following his train of though. Is he hitting on her, or telling tall tales? Her confusion only stymies her, and leaves her with an indifferent impression.
She listens raptly at first as Ibid recounts his daring tales, but after seeing his ink stained fingers, she is more inclined to believe he read those adventures in a book, rather than lived them. The next morning she serves his gruel with an odd dried fruit on top. She explains that the elders in her village have trouble passing stool through their bowls and this might help him.
While talking to Miro, he seems more interested in Gunari rather than her. She has heard of men like this in the south, but never really seen one before. Not sure what to make of it, she tends to speak less and less with the affable halfling.
The Pathfinders with Haltani guiding them make great time. The wind carries the small sailing vessel upriver. On the banks, the occasional elk or deer dashes away at the sight of the ship. At night, the temperature drops dramatically while wolves howl in the distance. The trip up the Rimeflow and Thundering Rivers takes several weeks, but passes in relative safety. Most of the landscape is comprised of rocky grassland and rough hills.
A bend in the river and several large rocks cause white-water rapids across most of the water’s breadth; only a narrow channel with a swift current flows without obstruction near the southern bank. Tall trees grow on either shore, casting shadows with their large overhanging branches.
Out of nowhere, a triangular net flies up snaring the boat. The net is 15 foot tall and 30 feet wide at the base.
+9 for traps
Despite everyone noticing the trap, none are skilled enough to pilot the boat safely around it.
Amaranti, Cyrus, and Gunari are all thrown to the deck and are knocked prone.
Two large Ulfen men spring from the banks. Another emerges, this one seems more competent that the others. "Stay your weapons. We demand to know why you sail towards Irrisen? Prepare to be boarded while we search your ship."
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Cyrus pats the air down, holding his hands out wide to show no ill-intent.
"We are explorers, on our way to Dalun to resupply before we set off into the wilds. We have no quarrel with you or your people."
Cyrus hopes that helps diffuse the situation, and waits for his more charismatic friends to take the lead.
They can think my hands are safely away from my weapons. It's not their fault they don't know how quick I am...
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"Yes, it is as my young Kelishite friend here says. We are just on a mission of exploration. Looking for interesting ancient artifacts and the like.
"I am sure that there is nothing that we can't sort out over a nice tankard of Cayden Cailean's finest. I am sure you are all thirsty, I know I am. Would you join us in a drink, and you can detail the rules and regulations that we've likely accidentally overlooked?"
He starts pouring a couple of tankards of ale.
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"Friends," Lort 'whispers', loud enough to be heard in Irrisen, "You are going about it wrong. These are Ulfen men, and respond far better to strength than honeyed words."
boasts Lort, drawing his weapon for emphasis,
Lort stands easily before the well-armed men, with ease that only supreme ignorance or absolute martial superiority could possibly bring.
Picking themselves off the deck, Gunari, Cyrus, and Amaranti dust themselves off.
After hearing the honeyed words of Cyrus, and Gunari, the Ulfen make move to board the ship, only to see Lort rise to his full height and begin yelling. Not sure what to make of the part Ulfen, part Orc, the words he uses are anything but compliant.
Anna begins to hesitantly step backwards , but Olaf is having none of it and orders his men to attack.
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If I didn't know him better, I'd say Lort bellowed that out just to pick a fight. Wait a minute....
Cyrus no longer has the time to contemplate just how well Lort knows the people from his homeland, and how easy it apparently is to pick a fight, and instead goes for his crossbow, not quite feeling faithful enough to step out onto the waves.
"Watch out for my butt!" He shouts at Olaf before clicking off a shot.
for
With that, he steps back nimbly in the boat, doing his best not to rock it.
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"Why must our missions always devolve into this," the old man sighs, following Miro's lead. A moment later, he is aiming his longbow at the nearest unobstructed target and releases a shot once his feet have steadied on the slightly rolling deck. "I thought we agreed Miro was the voice of this group?!"
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"Friends, this is the Ulfen way of talking!" shouts Lort, "At least, that's what the Rednar tribe believes. Perhaps these are peace loving, cowardly Ulfen. Is that so?" He addresses the last comment at the would-be officials.
"Worry not, Gunari," Lort tries to sound reassuring, "I will only kill them if they are too weak to withstand my blows. We can continue the conversation when they don't have our ship trapped. Not that it matters, but if these were officials, they why not have a permanent station set up here? Why trap our boat in a net? Officials? Nay, bandits! Let's have at them and worry not over their cuts and bruises for they had them coming!"
Both Cyrus and Ibid's arrows strike true, and it only seems to anger the Ulfen on the river bank.
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"Talk, fight... All the same. Both part of job. " Amaranti shrugs. Sometimes talking gets the job done, sometimes beating up the enemy. So far they have managed to complete each mission, so perhaps it doesn't matter which approach is taken.
The Garundi thrusts Anna with his lance, and then steps back to give room for the others.
The large Grundi manages to pierce Anna's defenses, and he give a howl of pain before roaring a challenge.
They can see that the Ulfen are now pissed off. They all begin to hoot and holler and scream, working themselves up into a frenzy.
Anna lashes out with her longspear at Aramanti.
Olaf attacks the nearest opponent, Gunari.
Just penetrating the warpriest's defenses, Olaf connects.
while Elsa tries to hit Haltani.
Elsa manages to hurt the pilot, but all remain standing.
- Cleaning pipes[/ooc]
Seeing its master hurt, the eidolon reacts instinctively, lashing out at the Ulfen warrior.
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"Thank you, Miro. Not good being hurt. "
Amaranti and Anna - The Garundi man versus the Ulfen woman. South versus North. Both stand still, exchanging blows with their long-hafted weapons, looking for openings in the others' defence.
While wounded from the warrior-womans spear, Amaranti manages to pay back with interest.
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Lort rushes past Olaf onto the relatively stable ground of the riverbank and runs around to provide Gunari with a flank. I hate boats at the best of times, but fighting on them is so... ungainly.
"Ha! Time to teach you some manners," the half orc bellows, before playfully swatting the Ulfen with the sharp of his blade.
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Cyrus drops his crossbow to the deck and sprints out of the boat to get on the other side of Elsa. He kicks up a spray of water to help distract the woman while he cartwheels past her to avoid leaving an opening.
Once there, he lashes out with his blade, grimacing that he can't reach her vitals while she can focus on just him.
for
-Posted with Wayfinder
After feeling the restorative magics of Miro, Amaranti takes a huge swing at Anna and breaks the man's armor, drawing a huge bleeding gash in his thigh.
Gunari, though still a little drunk, manages to pierce the space between Olaf's armors, once again drawing blood.
Lort, always the masterful tactician, taunts the man to attack him, before moving into flank.
The spear connects, but that only serves to enrage Lort, who slashes down with his greatsowrd.
Cyrus, tumbling like a menagire worker, downs Elsa, just as Ibid shots Anna, then Olaf bringing them both down.
Seeing the Ulfen dead, the Pathfinder look to their wounds.
Once the Pathfinder are healed up, Haltani turns to them, "Maybe my initial impression were ... off a bit. You seem quite the capable group of adventures. When I saw those Unlfen, I just knew they were from Whiterock. I have no desire to go there. Since we have just killed some of their patrol, I suggest we sail at all haste to Daulun in Irrisen. Once there you can introduce yourselves to the city officials, maybe use that letter of trade. I might have a merchant or two that could help you out.
Unless you want to return the bodies to Whiterock, and explain yourselves."
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Lort laughs heartily, "Well, capable is one way to put it! At least we gave these Ulfen the honor of a warrior's death. While I would rather visit an Ulfen settlement over an Irriseni one any day, we are on a mission. As for our actions, they need no explanation. These warriors accosted us and demanded to search our vessel, and were found wanting when it came time to deliver on their promise to their masters. All the explanation that is required lies dead on the ground before us."
After muttering some prayers to Kurgess, Lort continues, "Gather around, if you are wounded."
Lort builds a hasty cairn for them, out of snow and ice if need be, and chants a loud prayer to Kurgess to forgive these unworthy warriors for entering into a competition too great for them to handle. He also sings their praises in a tribute to Gorum, saying that they died as a true Ulfen should: weapons in hand.
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Cyrus observes and listens to the wisdom of Lort, so versed in the northern ways.
Maybe it was much more than just picking a fight... Strange as it may be, I think I get it...
"Thank you for the healing Lort. I'd say that just about does it. Let's make sure they don't have anything valuable before we move on..."
When the party gets going again, Cyrus moves over to Amaranti to discuss a few things. He does not hide his discussion, since he is among close friends, and Haltani may just be able to help.
"The Ice Diamond we are searching for can only be excavated
from the mines of Hope Lost, approximately 70 miles east of Dalun. They range from pure white to light blue in color, are harder and denser than standard diamonds, and are particularly receptive to magical enchantment. If we are to bring Tahonikepsu the diamond he needs, we will need to ask our friends and guide if they are willing to add an extra journey to our expedition. If we are extremely lucky, there may be more information in Dalun, since that would be a likely resupply point for the diamond miners."