Dot.
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Marco was glad to get back to the relative comforts of Absalom. As much as he wanted to take a full day off, he decided to return to the Inventory and Cataloging Department the next day, just in case he was expected. Can't burn any bridges if my future remains here...
He arrived early. He picked out a tray of potions to identify, and found a workstation close to the door, so that people could see that he was back when they came in. He was relieved when the Inventory Captain greeted him with a genuine smile, "Marco, it's good to see you back in one piece! When they called you for field work, I didn't realize it would be so long! How did you like it? It's not for everyone..." he added with a reassuring nod.
Marco thought about it for a second before answering, "I... enjoyed it. And I feel like I learned a lot. It was a good experience." He paused again. Falling waist-deep into sewage was decidedly not a good experience, and he had to consciously remind himself to balance that brief trauma with the rest of his long mission. He slowly nodded his head in the affirmative. "Yes. I enjoyed it, on the whole. And I would accept if I was called upon for field work again, I think."
Your mission begins in the office of Ambrus Valsin in the Grand Lodge of Absalom.
“Close the door,” he murmurs as the team gathers. “Let me start by saying, this mission is not for dissemination among other members of the Society.” Ambrus gives everyone a serious look in turn before continuing. “This mission is not an investigation, just a simple, straightforward assignment, but that makes it no less important.”
“I need you to book passage to the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, and cross over into Irrisen. You’re to head north and rendezvous with another team who have captured some—” Valsin pauses for a heartbeat before continuing. “—persons of interest. We have reason to believe that these individuals have information on the Shadow Lodge cells that are refusing to reconcile with the Society under Grandmaster Torch’s leadership.” Valsin’s expression becomes particularly grim at that point. “If these rogue cells are outright refusing amnesty, then they represent a clear threat to all of us. I need you to take charge of these captives and get them out of Irrisen safely and quietly. Once you’re clear of Irrisen, a larger extraction team will take custody of them and bring them in for questioning. Of course, we will cover the expense of your travel in full, and provide maps to lead you to the meeting point in Irrisen. Because of the nature of the mission and Irrisen itself, you’ll be meeting the other team in the field, away from what passes for civilization up there. The team you’ll be getting the prisoners from will show you the best route out of Irrisen, and the castellan of Trollheim has agreed to grant you passage through his lands. You are responsible for avoiding unexpected trouble between the handoff and Trollheim."
Valsin gestures for the team to depart, but pauses, staring at his fireplace for a moment before adding, “Wait. You need to know this. Your prisoners will be goblins. The Shadow Lodge separatists made extensive use of the sadistic creatures as soldiers and servants, and as much as you may want to throttle them, please remember that we need them alive.”
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Goblins! The gods themselves can't even control goblins to keep them quiet..... Amon Ione says from the corner of the room incrediously. His red and black fur on end. They will reach you alive and able to speak though Sir.
Though they may not be fully concious during the trip The Kitsune thinks as images of the goblins tied up and other acts trapeze through his thoughts.
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"Hmmm... goblins don't seem like they'd be the most reliable source. I suppose those questioning them would have a means to ensure that their information is legitimate. It would have to be magic. That would be fascinating."
"If we're heading north, I suppose we'll need clothing for cold weather. We might also want to buy clothing for hot weather at the same time, to divert suspicion."
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"If we're heading north, I suppose we'll need clothing for cold weather. We might also want to buy clothing for hot weather at the same time, to divert suspicion."
"Fabulous idea ... "
.Maika will go shopping before the party departs Absalom to ...
- Cold Weather Outfit (8 gp)
- Sap (1 gp)
- Silk Rope (10 gp)
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A serious and imposing wizard, a 6-foot-tall, bearded man with black hair, sits with the group. Though relatively young, his hair and beard are prematurely streaked with silver. He behaves in a distinguished manner, and is dressed in nondescript black robes with silver runes on the sleeves.
"The goblins' hatred runs deep...I have some experience with goblins. They will make interesting prisoners, without doubt," the wizard says. "But I have neglected to introduce myself. I am Thael. Thael Silverstep."
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[moments before]
The middle-aged Andoran man had found a short bench, nooked into a recessed wall, to lay back with left foot his still on the ground. His lifelong familiarity with military service nudges him out of light sleep, sensing that a superior is about five minutes from walking in; Hurry Up and Wait - the grunt's doctrine.
Finger pushes back his stringy black hair as he sits upright, wipes his gruffly common face down to his hawkish nose, hilted mustache and square chin. "-mMuh", he mutters something short of a greeting but acknowleding he's awake. He briskly and determinantly puts himself back together; functional tunic and breeches, hard leather boots, slightly rusty four-mirror armor, equally rusty burganet helmet, large shield, longsword; most noticeably, a surcoat of such age and use that the symbol it once bore remains a barely colored shadow.
Once strapped together, he stands 'at-ease' front and center, ready for orders. "Well met", he nods to the others and almost thumbs to himself, "-name's Finger."
As the party prepares for the trip they might recall some useful information.
Goblins are insane and sadistic. They have a strong hatred of dogs and a fear of horses, both rivaled only by their unnatural love of fire and destruction.
Making the journey in 3-1/2 days doesn’t allow for much time for hunting, unless the party uses the extra day allowed by the extraction team. Provisions for the journey goblins will be provided, but they’ll need supervision. Goblins have fast metabolisms and find hunger painful. If they’re not watched, they’ll eat their rations all at once.
Tying the goblins up and forcing them to march will be problematic. They’ll most likely complain, and will stumble and fall on purpose, slowing the rate of travel.
The party will be crossing a disputed border between two warring countries—Irrisen and the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Getting too close to the actual border before you’re ready to cross will invite trouble. There is no easy way to cross the Iceflow River, which forms the border between the nations north of the mighty Rimeflow River, without attracting unwanted attention from Ulfendefenders who may not look kindly on goblins passing through their lands.
It is eternally winter in Irrisen, and a lot of food is imported. There are no crops or easily obtained foodstuffs except those gained through fishing and some hunting of migratory animals.
Snow goblins are citizens in Irrisen. This is definitely true in Whitethrone, but one might expect them to have some degree of social rank everywhere else.
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Thael strokes his dark beard for a moment. "I have never been to Irresen, though I can tell you of my studies. I recently digested an intense treatise on the area...quite the interesting topic.
As if everyone is as interested as he is, Thael continues. "We will be crossing a disputed border between two warring countries—Irrisen and the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Getting too close to the actual border before we are ready to cross might invite trouble. There is no easy way to cross the Iceflow River, which forms the border between the nations north of the mighty Rimeflow River, without attracting unwanted attention from Ulfendefenders, who may not look kindly on goblins passing through their lands. This is where we must take care."
He rubs his forehead as if it might help him remember more. "It is eternally winter in Irrisen, and a lot of food is imported. There are no crops or easily obtained foodstuffs except those gained through fishing and some hunting of migratory animals."
A final flash escapes his bright eyes. "Oh, and snow goblins are citizens in Irrisen. This is definitely true in Whitethrone, but one might expect them to have some degree of social rank everywhere else. I could go on at length, of course..."
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"Is there a difference between snow goblins and the ones we've seen here in the south? The ones I'm familiar with - only through word of mouth, mind you - are destructive little sadists. They hate dogs, fear horses, and love fire."
"Hmmm. Maybe we should bring manacles, in case they're not chained up already. It may assuage the Ulfendefenders if they see that the goblins crossing their lands are prisoners."
The party’s journey from Absalom to northwest Irrisen is long but mostly uneventful. Eventually you arrive at the small camp with a ragged team of Pathfinders led by a female Ulfen named Ragna Lightfoot.
Lightfoot’s camp stands approximately 53 miles north of the Rimeflow River and 6 miles east of the Iceflow River. Her team consists of six Ulfen rangers and druids, including Ragna Lightfoot herself. When you arrive, Ragna’s team is already in the process of breaking down their shelters in preparation to move.
Lightfoot offers a tired greeting and provides some supplies and a map. "This will get you to the hamlet of Harvest’s End. I believe you will have the easiest time crossing the Rimeflow River. There are also 4 days’ worth of rations for each member of your party as well as for each goblin prisoner. Wouldn't advise letting those little buggers hold their own food though. Absolutely no self control." She scowls at the goblins and one sticks it tongue out at her. "Wish I was going myself, but we still have work to do up here, and to tell the truth I'd prefer another month or two freezing and starving then dealing with these prisoners. They know they're caught and will follow directions most of the time, but you gotta be careful with them. They'll give you problems if they think they're being mistreated, and tend to get big heads if you treat them too well. Anyway, good luck with them, you'll need it."
There are 5 goblins. None are in any kind of restraints.
One is picking at big zits on its face, another glares at you from under the teeth of a red lizard skin hood (complete with teeth), a third is poking the smoldering fire with a stick and giggling at the sparks, the fourth seems to be praying, or groveling, face down in the snow, and the fifth stands with hands on her hips, trying to look defiant with a stolen cookpot on her head like a helm.
Looking up at Finger, she point at his head. "Nice helm. Me wants it. You trade!"
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There are 5 goblins. None are in any kind of restraints.
"Oh dear ... not what I expected."
"They probably speak common but does anyone speak goblin?".
"Not me I'm afraid ... I prefer more civil company."
How in the world are we to manage this?
Miaka absently rechecks her crossbow; ensuring that it is loaded and ready.
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"Nice helm. Me wants it. You trade!"
”Hey, hands off twerp”, Finger warns the goblins, ”I've got two great wizards here that will turn you all into chickens. And if you don't run away or mess with us, we'll give you some food and keep you from getting eaten by snow monsters.”
"We're gonna need a buddy system here. It'll work better if each one of us keeps an eye on our own goblin and carry it's food. Five of us, five of them." Finger picks up 4 days of ration for the goblinette then says to her. "I'm chief longshanks with big sword, you follow, or else-", he motions with thumb-across-neck.
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"That sounds fine to me. I suppose I should watch the pot head." Indicating the goblin with the cook pot on her head.
Finger picks up 4 days of ration for the goblinette then says to her. "I'm chief longshanks with big sword, you follow, or else-", he motions with thumb-across-neck.
"Never mind ... I'll take the groveler then."
Then addressing the goblin currently with his face planted in the snow, she asks ...
"So ... do you speak Taldane? What should I call you?"
The pot-head female listens to Finger, then turns to the other goblins. "Hey yous! Reta with Big Chief Swordshanks! You listen to us or else!!" she mimics Finger's threat with a finger of her own. The other goblins ignore her.
"Acid?" The lizard hooded one says in response to Thael's magic. "What so fun about acid? You make fire too? Badmucus make fire. Lots and lots. Burn down many villages. Even own village once!"
The Groveler pops up from the snow and looks at Miaka. "No speak Taldum right now. Poog busy praying Zarongel. Zarongel say we goblins be ok, but he pretty sure you're f*@%ed."
Amon's words seem to have the opposite effect on the Oozer, who makes a point of licking a gooey finger with a crazed laugh.
"Chuffy’s face might make you sick,
But Chuffy’s knife be quick quick quick .
And if you is his stabby pick—
Then knife goes in you, stick stick STICK! HEE!"
"Me Mogmurch." The Flameling responds to Marco and holds up a scorched stick. "Me keep dis."
"No! Mine!" Mogmurch says, hugging his stick and getting singed in the process. "Ow! You made Mogmurch burn self!"
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"You will need to be more careful, then. I thought goblins were very skilled with fire," Thael points out as they leave.
The wizard turns to Marco and adds "I had the sudden inclination that charred stick might be a wand. I have heard of wands being made from unexpected items. I expect we cannot be too careful where these prisoners are concerned."
With the goblins in tow, the group heads out following the map that Ragna Lightfoot provided.
Later in the day you come to a narrow pass that winds its way south through steep, icy hills. The frigid wind dusts all in its path with a layer of snow. Two ancient stone watchtowers stand on either side of the path between two nearly vertical bluffs rising thirty feet to either side, just as Lightfoot’s map indicated they would. The eighty-foot-wide path narrows to a mere twenty-five feet in width between the two fifty-foot towers.
Lightfoot’s map indicates these towers have been deserted since the Winter War.
At a casual glance, the watchtowers appear abandoned, but you notice that snow has been knocked off the battlements specifically on the sections facing the path. This indicates that they might now be as unoccupied as the party has been lead to believe.