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The two Goblins continue to try and wake the wolf, failing to understand it is dead. The other Goblin realizes that the knocked out goblin really doesn't have anything, and starts to head back your way.
All of the sudden, as Grundle checks back towards the other Goblins and starts counting them out, . . .
. . . Something very fast shoots right by his head, landing in the snow a distance away, and becomes covered by it.
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"Gah!! I'll stay with these wretches...you bring that one back so I can break his toes!"
Grundle whips round to the remaining goblins, "Yeh hear that yeh vile sacks o' crap?! I'll break each and every one o' yer big floppy toes, tie you up, and drag yer screamin' faces if'n I have to!"
He moves to bring all the goblins not running away into a group.
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@Grundle
@Grundle
@Han
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So, in anger, Grundle shouts "Yeh hear that yeh vile sacks o' crap?! I'll break each and . . ." before all of the sudden an intense and unnerving cold smacks him hard on the back of the head. , followed by a flurry of snowballs, most of which he manages to avoid wile hearing another Goblin chant <requiem?> about murdering the noblest of animals <wolves>, and a long history of how the goblins rose from the same muck that the other stupid-heads <humans> did, but learned to work with, breed, and ride the mythical "winter's death-hunter-moster-gnome-killer", and rose to dominate the world thereafter. Another snowball slams into Grundle, as one also hits Han in the face .
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Han tries to launch a snowball at the goblin attempting to flee, but it hits the boulder in it's place. He then tries to chase the fleeing Goblin down as the warrior Grundle rustles up the other Goblins and tries to follow. The Goblin manages to to stay just out of reach as it leads Han (and Grundle a distance behind) farther and farther from the trail and into the wilds.
Grundle has a hard time at mustering the other Goblin, and basically has to carry and drag the one he knocked out before hand. While he can keep Han in sight, he slowly slips furthr and further behind, and the deep snow helps no one. The other Goblins begin to jeer and rile, taking bets on the other Goblin's chances at escaping, then on what will happen to him (and them) when he is later caught, even who wi be the new tribe leader, (keeping the dumb humans in line and the trip running smoothly).
It seems ike a solid hour chasing th Goblin, but the winds begin to pick up again, and signs of another storm begin to show. The cold finally gets to the Goblin, seeming to sap it's energy, at which point he is finally detained.
You are terribly lost, and knowing that the weather can be lethal, immediately set about finding shelter. In your search, you stumble upon the Rimeflow River. This was your next location, though further down it's length at a city which has the only real method of crosing the river safely. Just before the weather begins to whiteout the sky, you can see plumes of chimney smoke off in the distance, meaning your not too, too far from your destination.
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Friend of Freedom,
Irrisen has an underground resistance movement, known as the Heralds of Summer’s Return, that we want to encourage. One of their agents is deep undercover in the small village you’ll be passing through in the course of your mission. Locate her at the local tavern; she wears a pin of a white eye. Deliver this note discreetly, and whatever you do, don’t expose her in front of anyone. The common folk in Irrisen are too broken down to be trusted.
I trust in your abilities,
Major Colson Maldris
Most Honored One,
Long have I wondered why the rulers of the Lands of Linnorm Kings cannot conceive of another means to combat their hated foes, the witches of Irrisen. It is a country of great wealth, but without means to feed itself, no matter how many slaves it consumes. The dreadful winter wolves cannot subsist on stones, no? Yet Goka does brisk trade with the witches because they pay handsomely. I would suggest to the Linnorm Kings that if they engaged in fewer raids upon traders from Tian Xia, Tian Xia would have less need to subsidize those losses by selling food to Whitethrone. An audience with Castellan Darkwine is beyond your station, but if an opportunity presents itself, speak to him of these things on my behalf when you are in Trollheim.
Many blessings upon you,
Venture-Captain Amara Li
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Grundle trudges beside the group of goblins, scowling and cursing at them at random intervals. Bot flails clank to accentuate his extreme displeasure at being alone with this group...until it becomes pleasure.
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The village of Harvest’s End is a quiet place. Traveling merchants in colorful garb are easily distinguished from the locals, who dress in woolen clothes of drab browns, greens, and grays. There are no sounds of laughter or play here. Fishermen put their catch out for display, while others congregate in small groups and whispered conversations. Smoke rises from the chimneys of uniform but well constructed buildings, most of which are surrounded by small white picket fences.
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Finding food is not an issue, they have general venders and also a tavern that will offer hot food. There is, however, the issue with the Goblins. In this land, monsterous denizens are common, so they people do not act too abnormal seeing them, though thy know not to trust them. Bu, can they be trusted to not act up. . .
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Grundle looks for the nearest place selling rope or manacles. He'll buy as much as needed to completely bind up the goblins to each other "chain gang" style.
As he finishes getting them secured a gleam comes to his eye and he says, "Now this is the only way to get a goblin to behave in a civilized place. We should find the gaol or warden of the town and see if we can lock 'em up for the night!"
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As you purchase a set of Small Manicles, the people in town watch you with a strange curiosity, though no one says anything. They give you (all) a wide berth thereafter, thinking the Goblins must be prisoners making their way to some sort of punishment.
Through your attempts at conversation and getting directions, you find out that the ferryman, and in fact the equivalent of the town mayor, is an Ice Troll. Called simply Rimetusk, your not able to get a good sense of his attitude nor what to expect.
As you make your way towards the ferry, you can see the giant, a brutish Ice Troll as he also spots your approach. Strapped to his back is a (large) Greataxe, and he wears only barbarian skins, but seems completely ineffected by the cold. As you approach, he looks over each of you, including the Goblins with crossed arms, taking his time to take your measure.
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Seeing no reason not to let you pass at the normal 2 GP fee, he begins to move aside, which would allow you on board his ferry. That is until the bruised and beaten Goblin starts to speak up, claiming that you are trying to abduct them, kidnapping a um, um, "legal" citizen, and to smuggle them out of Isseren. it seems for a moment that Rimetusk will brush the Goblin's accusations off as typica "goblin-talk", but he stops, recrosses his arms, and stops you from getting away so easily.
"You not take the goblins, human! Tell King Rimetooth da truth or I smash ya. What are you gonna do with these, uh citizens?"
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"Well, yer Kingship...we were beset upon by a couple o' groups o' goblins, one of which had some sorta witch, and a pack o' wolves. He suffered his injuries, none of which are fatal or even debilitating in the long run, during those little scraps."
Grundle chuckles at this point and gives the troll a wink and a grin, "I'd say we sent those vicious ones runnin' but we didn't leave enough life left in 'em to run! Me an' this credit-to-his-species here made sure o' that!"
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Rimetusk eyes you for a moment, trying to judge your words before agreeing to let you pass. Slaming the gate open, he motions for you to enter the ferry, and as you board, he makes preporations and departs. The rid is short, only a few minutes, but the sheer number of ice atches the ferry rams on the way, and the visible undertoe from your new antage point indicates that the river is indeed very deadly if you had simply tried to wade through.
As you arrive on the other side, he demands the standard fair for travel (don't worry about it), and curtly kicks you off the boat, returning to his town. From there it is less than a days travel to your final destination.
You both feel a certain relief, a sense of leaving a dread cold,. . . something behind you as you leave the lands of Issiren and her winter-witches and enter the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Grundle, you also feel an almost palpible sense of history and greatness as you cross the border, like the land itself is somehow calling you home (fluff) Hagreach, though barren and and well defensible, does not hold the same ambient magical curse of the last few days.
Your map indicates that you are to enter a land known as Trollhiem, not far from here, and to seek a place called the Blackraven way station is where you seek, a longhouse that will offer rest and will notify the Society of your success. You have been told that the ruler of these lands (called a castellan) worked out a deal with the Society, granting you safe passage through his lands, (assuming you respect his laws and act reasonable).
The woods open to a clearing where a large, grass-covered mound, like a small oblong hill, dominates the area. A stout wooden door is set directly into the side of the mound, while a thin trail of smoke rises from the very top. Immediately to the south is a wooden horse stable, all of its doors closed.
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"Always liked trolls. Never had a problem with a one of 'em."
Grundle looks at Han and flashes a quick, toothy grin, "Plus, I ain't stupid. There's no way we coulda taken "king" Rimey back there AND kept the prisoners alive. Even though the little craps deserve nothing more than a slow death. Won't say I'll miss the cold, but it was a beautiful country at least. Ah well, Should we knock on the door?"
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A large man emerges from the long house, greeting you warmly with a strong embrace, and offering you the hospitality of the north, a warm meal and good drink.
"Please, friends, I am Enrik, called Ironjaw. Castellan Freyr Darkwine, liege-lord of these lands has informed me of your arrival, and to offer you a short rest before you finish your task. Please, please, come inside. We have created a small holding prison for these beasts, and men assigned to watch them until you are prepaired to leave. Just usher the bastards over to the storage room, my man will take them."
A man stands ready at the doorway, half out. From his garb, he seems to be an Ulfen warrior-priest, dedicated to Gorum, and motions that you may hand them over and follow Enrik.
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He take you inside the longhouse, and as promissed offers you a warm meal and strong drink, as well as a bed to rest a few hours before you leave. You notice that the longhouse is rather empty, and as you await your meal, he begins to show you around a bit.
(I'l update the map soon and go into more detail, probably tomorrow, sorry for the delay.)
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Enrick takes you into the main lodge, and as promised brings begins to prepair a meal while bringing you a stout Ulfen drink. He engages you in conversation, but seems most interested in your journey through Issiren and how you managed to handle the bastards for so long a trip.
After a few moments, the chaplin comes in, nodding towards Enrick and states that the Goblins are "secured", and "all is ready". Enrick nods back with a slight smile before dismissing the man, and continues to talk about the Longhouse house and their mission here.