I am tired of being cold says the bard.
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"I never imagined that there'd be a dragon involved in all this mess," Nella breathes, still shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush of battle. "My friend Aleris is never going to believe this! I've got to write her a letter...er, if we manage to get out of Whitethrone, anyway."
As the group prepares to try and make their escape from the city, she calls upon Shelyn's aid to finish mending the few remaining scrapes and bruises they'd suffered from the dragon.
"Okay...let's get out of here! I know Skald but since I was so talkative last time I hope we get a different guard shift today..." she says as she quickly stows her holy symbol and anything else that might appear to be suspicious at first glance.
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Tchak being unarmored figures it will be that much easier to pretend to be a slave, and stows those of his belongings that would readily belie the disguise, like his blade and such... and hands the whole sack of stuff to Jones, if he'll take it... it's not too heavy since it doesn't include armor... "Please take this til we leave Whitethrone, but be careful not to touch the blade, as it is attuned to me. It shouldn't encumber you, as it's not much... the rest, like travel supplies and foodstuffs, I should be able to carry without rousing suspicion, as slaves are often used as beasts of burden."
You strip down two of you to pass as slaves with the ulfens and Skagni. Luckily, your cold weather gear has taken such a beating recently, it almost looks appropriate.
The other four of you, lose any identifying items that might draw suspicion and try to make yourselves look like tough slavers. Not that easy for some.
You gather up supplies, in which you have buried the documents from the Lodge, and those you've captured here, plus the remainder of your equipment. They are all loaded onto the slaves: equal parts merchandise and pack animal, apparently.
By the time you exit out into the cold winter air of the city, there is a palpable feeling of excitement amidst the ulfens as they sense freedom so close... the Pathfinders, in contrast, are nervous, knowing there are still many ways for this to go wrong!
There are far more people out and about on the city streets during the day, then you saw during your mad scramble the night before, and you are able to take the main thoroughfare straight to the northern gate. Whitethrone is actually quite beautiful by day, but you don't really have the time to play tourist unfortunately.
No one seems to pay you much attention at all as you travel, clearly slaves marching through town is not unusual.
Eventually, the gates loom up before you, open during the day. You see groups coming in and going through inspections similar to the one you suffered on your entrance. Fewer groups seem to be leaving though and you get to the front of the line far sooner then you were prepared for!
The guard looks up, making a quiet note of the slaves, and says. "Papers." He sounds bored.
The guard takes the documents from Phoebee, as a second guard starts examining the slaves.
"Scum is right." The second guard mutters, in response to Phoebee's words.
"Late start." The guard holding the papers says, with a casual glance skyward. "You're not going to get to Ytterjorna before the late entry fees kick in. Those bastards' will bleed you dry."
He just seems to be idly chatting.
The extra guards off to the side give you a cursory glance, but you don't appear to draw any more attention from them then that, as their eyes move on to the next group approaching the gate.
The first guard, casually going through the papers, glances up and calls to the one examining the slaves.
"Linnorm scum, it seems!"
"Learning a bit of humility." The second responds with a malicious chortle. He then turns and addresses the slaves. "Thank you for visiting the beautiful city of Whitethrone! We do so hope you enjoyed your stay."
The other guards laugh.
The first guard starts shuffling quickly through the papers, looking for one in particular. He stops when he gets to the inventory records.
"Lessee... Oh!" He holds up it and calls to the other. "Would appear they are on their way to Belkzen!"
The other guard grins at the news. "Oh, that'll be fun! Say hi to the orcs!"
They all seem to find your apparent plight amusing, and they wave you through, clearly feeling your future is bright enough already.
As you pass through the gates, you keep waiting to hear someone yelling at you from behind... but as the minutes roll by, you finally realize it isn't going to come. Less then a day after entering, you find yourselves standing outside the city once more, this time on the icy road heading north!
There is a great sense of relief from the ulfen, as you finally find yourselves free of the city. Despite still being in the middle of Irrisen, the mere fact they are no longer shackled and out of Whitethrone seems to be enough to raise their spirits with a newfound sense of hope.
"The Blood Ram owe you a debt." The ulfen woman you spoke to before says. "What is left of us... it remains because of your aid. Thank you."
Rognvald too seems relieved, though he continues to throw nervous glances back towards the city.
"My old heart can't handle much more of that." He says, with a rueful grin. "One hurdle down, it would seem! Owe you all for this one. And that surly bastard Dreng for sending you!"
He digs around through one of the supply boxes, "Here." He says, handing over a piece of parchment with a hastily drawn map on it. "Was pondering the route Melkorka and the rest had planned, and here, look..."
"Their route had them crossing out of Irrisen here, at Coldwater, and then into the Realms of the Mammoth Lords. But there's no way to cross the Frozen Road once you go that far east. They'd have to go almost all the way to the Tusk Mountains, before they could cross the river, here where the two tributaries flow in."
"If you were to cross on this side of the border, up by Chillblight, then follow the river east out of Irrisen... that'd cut days off the trip right there." He looks up, triumphantly.
"And they didn't know where the Keep was, exactly. So they'll have to spend time searching for it."
"I'd come across references to it before, and Tegrid," He nods towards the ulfen woman who spoke earlier. "She says one of her ancestors came from there. Between us, we're pretty sure where the remains of Ranulf's Keep are... here." He marks an X on the map. "The rest is the best route we could come up with to get you there. Though I imagine the last half of it is pretty near what the Shadow Lodge group was following. Don't piss off the kellids too badly, and you might get there in time."
"We should be alright from here." He adds, glancing at all the ulfens. "We can get back to the Linnorm kingdoms on our own, you have to go after that weapon... or whatever the hell it is. There's no one else to do it."
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"Right," Nella nods resolutely. "We've come this far, so we may as well see it through to the end. Take care everyone and Rognvald, maybe we'll all meet again at some point," she smiles as she shakes the fellow Pathfinder's hand.
I just hope we've got enough rations to do us until we get to some civilization again...
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Masym nods in reply, a small smile on his face as the Pathfinders are no longer in any danger, at least from Whitethrone anyway. "Yes, but this won't be an easy trip. Game looks like it will be hard to find on the way. Hunting for game will slow us down the further along we travel, and no telling how far ahead the Lodge is of us."
Not to mention we have no idea what exactly we are looking for...Not a recipe for success.
Which is partly why pretty much every settlement is along a waterway. Fishing is the main source of non imported food.
You do notice now, based on how many slaves there were and where they were being taken for sale... there was not nearly enough food to cover that length of trip... you suspect that Glorfan and the other goblins were accounting for a certain amount of 'product degradation' en route.
But for a trip Trollheim, there's more then enough for all of them, with extra to get you guys to the border as well.
Following Rognvald's suggested path, you head north as the rest of the ulfen's and Skagni himself head west towards the uncertainty of home.
The trip out of Irrisen from there goes relatively smoothly, though not without its dangers and nervous moments.
You were warned that non-fey traveling on foot through the Feyfrost was unacceptably hazardous, so you catch a ride with one of the many merchant vessels that ply their trade up and down the Frozen Road. The main river running east/west through the northern part of Irrisen.
The city of Chillblight, proves to be a wonder to behold. Shaped and carved entirely from ice, it is one of the most beautiful sights you've ever seen. But its hauntingly beautiful appearance belies the inner menace. The merchant vessel refuses even to stop at the city's main docks, claiming that way leads to disaster. Instead it stops at a second set of run down docks just outside of the city, and they carry their goods into town on foot. You quickly learn that Chillblight is the capital of the Irrisen province of Feyfrost and has the largest population of Fey in all of Golarian. Not the whimsicle yet friendly fey, or even the aloof and distant ones... But the evil malevolent fey who prey on those in the mortal realms. Where Whitethrone was oppressive order, Chillblight is malicious chaos.
The ship stays only as long as it has to, a single day in this instance, before continuing up river... but even in that brief amount of time, you witness at least half a dozen public executions (beheadings that occur out on the ice flows of the river), and hear tell of a booming child slavery industry on one of the nearby islands.
Thankfully, the ship moves on, eventually reaching the town of Isseld where you disembark and continue your trip on foot. The town seems to have a booming industry selling baubles and trinkets and talismans of all sorts, supposedly of kellid design from the Realms to the east.
After Isseld, you quickly run out of civilization, and day after leaving it, you pass out of Irrisen into the Realm of the Mammoth Lords!
The Ulfen have a saying: "No blade is as sharp, no demon as cruel as the winds that walk their way down the Icestair."
At the border of Irrisen and the untamed wilds of the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, the meaning of those words becomes clear as the barren, snow-covered plains stretch to the horizon. Four days' travel now lies between the eastern edge of Irrisen and the shattered remains of where Rognvald and Tegrid marked the location of the Huscarl King's keep.
To the east, sinuous snow drifts give way to rocky foothills from which pines and scrub brushes claw for life. In the distance, the massive creatures that give this land its name shuffle along at a ponderous speed, still impossibly huge even from far away.
Skagni’s map marks a clear and straightforward path, but the snow makes for slow travel. The Shadow Lodge agents have a head start, but they are on a more circuitous route, so persistence through the harsh environment and adherence to the strict map may yet make it possible to catch them before they reach the Keep of the Huscarl King and gain access to the mighty weapon held within...
Whatever that may be.
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"You're braver than I am Masym," Nella says with a shake of her head. For a moment, she considers pulling out her own wand that was much like the ones Malusha and Tchak carried but then decides against it.
Masym really seems to pride himself on his survival skills...and I'd hate to seem like I don't trust him. At least we've got the wands for backup if things get really bad.
"But I think you're right, it'll be okay for right now," she adds after a moment. Thankful for the protection from the worst of the weather, she squints at the map that Skagni had sketched for them and tries to remember if she'd ever heard of or read anything about this Keep that they were seeking.
Although cold, as Masym says, you have been able to manage during the day so far, with ample cold-weather gear. But at night, the temperature drops significantly, and even the best clothing is not enough. Without
shelter (or tents) and heat sources, the evening hours get pretty miserable.