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The abrupt shift in direction associated with the mid-gut tiller takes Craggark by surprise as the oars fly backwards, knocking the half-orc from his bench and onto his back.
"Oh Captain, my Captain," laughs Craggark from his back with a wince. He replies to Jamir's abashed expression in a deflective fashion: "Eh, I've taken stiffer blows from sparring foes."
The half-orc picks himself up and hesitantly returns to the oars, looking over his shoulder at Jamir with his eyebrows raised.
"But not many..." Craggark smiles at Hamstring's crooked grin.
It'll be good to get off this boat and onto dry land. At least the land doesn't rise up to meet you, most of the time. Poor Hamstring - he's not having the best time of it.
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Still rubbing his gut, Hamstring smiles weakly at Craggark.
"I never thought I would view serving as an interpreter between two dwarves and a half-orc - even as a ruse - as easier duty than sailing a fine ship such as this."
His facing turning almost grim, Jamir continues, "There is one thing I should make clear before we go into town as merchants. Irrisen, as I understand it, is as deeply dependent on slavery, trading in people's lives with no more thought than is given in Cheliax or Qadira. I will not seek out trouble in our dealings with the Irriseni, but I will not - I will NOT - have dealings with slavers. And if I see an opportunity to free any soul in bondage without jeopardizing our mission, I will not hesitate to act. I am a Pathfinder, but I am also a member of Liberty's Edge - the gang that broke with the Andorans for being too meek in promoting the cause of freedom - and more than that, I am a free halfling, and I am a Montajay!"
With that, he hops off the bench he had been resting on, and strides up to Haltani. He bows, concealing a wince of pain, as he does so. Straightening, he does his best to look her directly in the eye.
"My lady, forgive my brashness, but I feel I must ask before we reach our initial destination. Since we first boarded the boat, it has seemed to me that you have been filled with anxiety. At first, I thought it was merely nervousness about being on this not over-large ship with half a dozen strangers, or the natural fear anyone might feel upon seeing me take the helm. But it has been long enough that I would think you would have no more concern that one of our number might murder us in our sleep, or, when I take the tiller for a few minutes, that I will immediately run us aground ... again. Yet still you appear to be afflicted with worry, and I find myself beginning to worry as well, without knowing why. Won't you tell me what is troubling you? If it be man or beast, my blade is yours."
After declaring that he'd attempt to Pilot the boat the rest of the journey upstream, the group had a rough day. The going was very slow as the boat "bottomed out" on several shallows.The Fortune Seeker, had to be physically pulled off the sandbars by, having some of the stronger crew members disembark and shove them off.They did this, while waist deep, in near freezing water.
As if that were not enough, the second day was worse when, Haltani took the rudder. Despite Jamir's earnest help, Haltani couldn't avoid hitting low hanging branches with the 20ft mast. She struggled to navigate the increasingly winding and narrow river. By days end, Haltani had hit a submerged rock so hard that, the Fortune Seeker had to be beached. Repairs to the hull needed to be made. Combined with the piece of the cross sectioned that, had been snapped off the mast by a particularly large tree branch, and Jamir estimated that repairs would set them back three days!
Won't you tell me what is troubling you? If it be man or beast, my blade is yours
Haltani nods her head graciously at Jamir's offer. Jamir, my friend, my shipmate, and brave comarde Haltani walks a bit closer to Jamir and kneels down in order to look him in the eye.You mistake my un-ease with distrust. It's true I've been a bit apprehensive. But it has nothing to do with the faith I place in you all. It is true, you've all show yourselves to be faithful and trustworthy companions on this perilous journey thus far. My fear is not with thee...but of my own abilities... Haltani, trails off as she rises from her knew and begins to pace a little.
I'll be honest to you all! she announces in a voice cracking with emotion. I'm not sure I can pilot us all the way up to Dalun. There are some shallows and even a few small rapids towards the end of our journey. Only the most skilled captains, even try to navigate the Thundering River this far upstream. And gentlemen, I am far from a skilled captain!She looks at Jamir, a pained look of self doubt about her.
Haltani begins to pace again.I must confess, it's not just about the navigation of our vessel. I worry that I won't be able to perform my other duties as well. It seems the the Society has very high and diverse expectations of this proposed trade agreement with Dalun. Although Dalun, is more liberal in it's policies than many of the regions and cities of Irrisen, it still lingers in the traditions and customs of those lands. She looks at Torvald,then Craggarck, and finally tired eyes look sadly, at Jamir Montajay. Torvald and Craggark seem to want to please parties unknown to me and you, Jamir "Hamstring" Montajay, have all but declared war on the state we are about to enter in peace!And the menace you present toward them is, for practicing a long held tradition. She kicks at the snow of a low hanging branch to emphasize her frustration.
I'm beginning to wonder how much I can help when, so many agendas are in play? I thought I was just guiding a group of Pathfinders to a ruined city site, where an important relic might lie. Our secondary mission was to establish peaceful trade relations, with the town of Dalun, if possible. Am I wrong about any of this? Did Venture captain Benarry fail to give me a missive about striking secondary trade agreements with a faction of Pathfinder Society whole? Do the Pathfinders intend to sabotage or declare war on Irrisen for their practice of slavery? If so, why not declare all such nations as such!She turns to Jawhar and says,Pray thee tell me good father, do lands in the south practice slavery?
Don't get me wrong little defender of freedom... I'm no defender of slavery! But, we can not change overnight what generations before us have wrought. Haltani's pacing grows more aggressive and she now has plowed a sizable path in the inches thick snow that covered the ground she had tread.
She stops suddenly and turns to everyone, I'm but a hired hand. I'll do what I'm told. But, do not ask me to fight battles or strike bargains that are beyond my scope. Master Montajay, I have visited Dalun several times and can say with honesty that, there is little slavery there. However, it is Irrisen, and that practice is legal within it's boarders. As distasteful that is to the both of us, I'd ask you to put our missions first, as they may be mutually beneficial to both the Society and Dalun.
Haltani stalks back to her tent
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Crow crap. We've spooked our guide, and perhaps a merchant connection important to our endeavour.
"Um....brothers, it would seem that my attempt to be clandestine has backfired somewhat. I think I've somehow given Haltani the impression that the Pathfinder organisation is a fragmented hodgepodge of special interests....which it might be at times....but that we don't have a unifying goal. I apologise. Allow me to be open."
Craggark pulls out the trade agreement he confiscated from Jamir the first day out of port.
"I'm an initiate to The Exchange, the trading arm of Pathfinder Society. I believe in the value of civilisation, and free trade is key to that expansion. I want to make a good impression on the merchants of Dalun. I know Irrisen to be a cruel place. I wanted to make certain that our proud status as Pathfinders does not betray what we might be able to do in forging bonds with Dalun. I'd be keen to hear any opinions on the matter." Here, he looks to Faenethor and Jawhar expectantly.
Jawhar, your homeland is considered to be the bastion of all that free trade embodies. Economy rules in Qadira, I believe, and your expertise would be most helpful. Fayneethor, you're about as smart as I've ever met. I'd be more of a fool than I already am if I didn't seek your counsel."
He points at the tent of the unhappy Varki.
"We need HER on our side. Hell, we might even be able to make her a Pathfinder if we play our cards correctly. You heard how she loved stories of travel and adventure. That's how we all got here. I think she needs a boost of confidence."
He rounds on the halfling.
"As do YOU, my friend. You're such a dynamo; you've just been getting in your head. We all believe in you - we've seen what you can do if given proper motivation."
Wrap it up, blowhard.
"This is what it means to be a Pathfinder, eh? To face adversity, harm, certain doom? To keep fighting...grip harder and gut it out? To turn disadvantage into our score! I believe in each and every one of you!"
"Except you, Torvald."
Here he pauses for a dramatic second.
"NAHHHHHH! You're my bro, bro! Ik was serieus maar een grapje."
"No, seriously. I was joking. Um, yeah. Alright?"
*Slow sarcastic clap*
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Torvald is quiet for a long few minutes, mulling Haltani's speech over. Pulling out his pipe and a bit of tobacco he starts tamping in the leaf as he answers, "You know, I've read a few of the Chronicles, and I've got to say that it seems Pathfinders run the gamut of saints and sinners, but at the end of the day--they and we are all little more than blades for hire, playing "finders keepers" with the heritage of others."
"We're seeking a fragment of a Sky Key--a device tied to one of the great lost cities of my people. By what right do the Pathfinders lay claim to such an item? Does anyone here believe that the Decemvirate doesn't operate with their own agendas? Ten secret leaders acting through a network of thrillseekers and freelancers...when I think on it it makes me uncomfortable. Will this Sky Key be turned over to the dwarves when all this is said and done? I do not know the answes to any of these questions."
"All this is a long-winded way of saying that we, and the Society, are using one another to further our own goals. I've no love of slavery, and Haltani has the right of it--such institutions cannot be topple overnight. But they should be fought nonetheless, and if Jamir wants to hamstring some slaver's profit margins I'll do my damndest to help him. We work for an organization whose sole purpose is to acquire antiquities. So be it, but if some good can come of our efforts on the side, then I will make it!"
Lighting up his pipe, he leans back and gives Craggark a grin. "Thanks, bro.
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Jamir's gaze follows Haltani as she stalks off to her tent. He says, more to himself than to the others remaining on the deck, "Ah, but of course, if it were in my power to declare war on all the slaver nations, I would do so in an instant."
He shakes himself, quirks a grin at Craggark and Torvald, and rubs his still-bruised middle. "Craggark, my friend, are you suggesting I might not have ... the stomach to carry out this mission?" He forces out a laugh. "No, of course you're right, as is the good Miss Haltani, our official goals must come first." He winks at Torvald. "But you, sir - between those bombs I've seen you prepare and now your interest in cutting the bonds of slavery if we happen across them, perhaps you should consider joining us in Liberty's Edge after this job, eh? I guarantee you our meetings have better beer than those of the accountants in the Exchange!"
With a nod to them both, Jamir picks up a hammer and a cask of nails, and goes back to work on the repairs.
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"Slavery is an unwelcome guest in polite dicussion," Faenethor muses, almost sadly. Then he snaps his fingers. "Thankfully, this isn't a dinner party."
"I must declare, first, my allegiance to the Exchange, whose mission and concerns I feel are necessary to the welfare and stability of all nations. Now, where I'm from, Korvosa, slavery is illegal, and so the issue sometimes yields to more direct considerations. But slavery has a direct impact on the economies of Golarion, and Korvosa has long been keen to cement its position as a commercial leader within the Inner Sea and beyond. Last year, our Bank of Abadar presided over an inter-jurisdictional conference on the stability of free trade between Korvosa and some of its competitors, especially Magnimar, whose rise to prominence has, many say, eclipsed Korvosa. Darb Tuttle, our Archbanker, presented some comments which I found to be rather insightful."
"His position was essentially that "direct" slavery is just as much the pivot of bourgeois industry as magic, machinery, credits, etc. Without slavery there would be no modern industry. It is slavery that has given many industry centers their value; it is the those centers that have created world trade, and it is world trade that is the pre-condition of large-scale industry. Thus, slavery is an economic category of the greatest importance. Slavery, because it is an economic category, has always existed among the institutions of the peoples. Modern nations, including Korvosa, have been able only to disguise slavery in their own countries, while nations that uphold it merely do so without deception. Considering the status of the poverty-stricken within Korvosa, and I could agree they are "slaves" in all but name."
"Even so, I believe direct slavery is a doomed enterprise. It creates social groups in direct opposition to one another, groups that are doomed to fight and, in time, revolt. The inevitable consequence is either a revolutionary re-constitution of society at large, or the commmon ruin of the contending classes. I suppose my position on the matter is that, while slavery is vulgar and undesirable, it serves its purpose in society. I would not deter you from your personal agendas against it, but I encourage you all to focus first on the Society's aims, on whose behalf we will soon be acting."
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Jamir's hammer falls silent while the mage is speaking. After a brief pause, during which the halfling spins the hammer absent-mindedly in his hand, staring straight ahead at the hull of the ship, he shakes himself and returns to his work, speechless for the first time since his arrival at the tavern.
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Jawhar chooses to respond to Haltani first. "Lady, it is true that many states practice salvery, including mine own Qadira. Your Linorm Kings also keep thralls.
In fact, most of the lands and races that make up Golarion practice slavery of one kind or another. Some, like Taldor (and Linorm), cloak the practice with other names such as serf and thrall. Geb chooses to wait until the person has died and then enslave the soul to an undead form.
In some places, people actually choose to enter slavery. For some of these people it is the only way they can feed themselves and their family.
Slavery is not something that I support, yet I do not have the Esteemed Montajay's level of disgust at the topic."
Turning to Jamir, "Speaking of which, sir, we already have a quest and a secondary task that serves as our cover. If you get us all thrown in jail, both tasks will fail.
If you choose to jeopardize our mission by rushing off into a slaver's den to rescue people who may or may not actually want to be rescued, you will do so without my help.
Pray tell, what do you plan to do with these people once they are free? Leave them on the street to be plucked up again? Perhaps you planned to bring them with us on our quest for the sky key? Do you have extra boats to ferry them downriver back to the Linorm Kings where they can become thralls?"
Not waiting for a response, he turns to Craggark. "Craggark, you at least remain on point. We need this subterfuge to work if we are to be allowed to journey to our actual destination.
However, if the Society had wanted a good trade agreement, they would have sent actual merchants along with us. That would have been far better for our cover story and allow us more flexibility. As it is, we should simply focus on the very basics of trade. This treaty should be viewed as a first step in opening trade and not a full trade treaty. That is my only advice.
My life is one of service and not of barter. I do not seek to heal only those who can pay a set fee."
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Again, the halfling's hammer stops. Perhaps it is something common to all spellcasters, the belief that if they can use magic to bend nature to their will, they also have the right to use force to bend people as well.
"Yes, Jawhar, I believe I understand you and the wizard perfectly. As I have said twice now, I shall not look for trouble, and I do realize that our mission goals are of primary importance. I am irked to have to say it again.
"And I also now realize that at least a third of our party believes people may be property; it is certainly for the best that we have that out in the open. I, for one, will be sleeping with one eye open and my hand on my rapier until our mission is completed. For if you believe that any person has the right to buy and sell another as chattel, what assurance can you give me that - should you deem it helpful to our mission - you would not sell the rest of us at the earliest opportunity? It seems your Exchange is not as interested in the free market as I had been led to believe."
"Of course, may the gods forbid that I manage to assist some poor soul in seeking his freedom. For if I were to succeed, they may no longer be able to rely on the tender mercies of their "owner." Why, such might lead to violence, or criminal activities! Do let me know if you think it might be convenient to assist those yearning to be free." He snorts, and returns to his work.
That night, he lays his bedroll against the hull of the ship, so that he is exposed only on one side, and true to his word, he sleeps with his rapier unsheathed in his hand. Only during the hours when Craggark or Torvald have the watch does he truly rest.
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"In your passion, you have completely missed my intent.
Freeing people is of no benefit if you do not also plan for their continued freedom. Freeing those unjustly enslaved must be planned out with a plan to conduct those freed people to a new location and have some concept of how these people are to support themselves once they arrive there.
You cannot simply break into a place, cast of a person's chains and tell them You are now free, go make your way in the world.
Your passion is commendable, yet passion will not enact your desires. You must carefully plan out such an endeavor and be certain of its success, including the sure knowledge that the slaves will go along with your plan before undertaking such an endeavor.
As for the Exchange, I am not sure why you bring that up to me. I serve the Grand Lodge. Exploration is my only goal."
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Torvald has no skill at blowing smoke-rings, but that doesn't prevent him from making numerous attempts. Puffing out another failed effort and scowling good-naturedly at the shapeless cloud, he calls across the boat to the priest, "A thing may be difficult, and complex, and fraught with uncertainty, yet still worth the doing. Would you say to the slave in his chains "I'm sorry, I don't know how you would support yourself, so in bondage you must remain"? Certainly to teach a slave a craft is a noble thing, but is one truly worse off as a free unskilled laborer than as a slave? I think we all here know the answer to that. And to turn a freedman loose in a land of ice and monsters is a death sentence, I daresay Hamstring wasn't suggesting they be ushered out the door and forgotten."
+ + + + +
Listening carefully to Tusk's description of his homeland, the alchemist takes a thoughtful draw of his pipe. "Not that I've ever been there, but it sounds quite like the Shackles you're describing. To hear the bards tell it, it's an anarchic region that makes Galt's eternal riots seem tame and well-organized by comparison. Stone and Steel, Tusk! What would any self-respected son of Torag want with such a place?"
The next morning Haltani is quiet and avoids sitting with the group for the morning meal. After washing her face in the river, she disappears downstream for a hour or two, and comes back with a stringer of fish handing them to Torvald and says, I always see you mixing the potions of yours and using that strange burner thing to heat them. Perhaps, you'll know how to make a good fish stew as well. She says this with one eyebrow raised. Without another word she tosses the fish towards Craggarks lap (who is sitting nearby). Tusk spots a wry smile on her face as she walks away from the pair.
Later in the day Haltani, wanders back near the fire and lifts the lid on the cook pot; inspecting the contents. She wrinkles her nose when the steam rushes forth. She steps back stifling a choking cough. I think you went a little heavy on the ice peppers master Stonecask. *smirk*. She looks back him and only receives a wordless shrug. Craggark, have you seen Jamir? ..Oh, you'll survive Carrgark, you're a big tough boy. I've seen you practically push the entire boat off a sandbar by yourself! She says with a casual smile. Besides, you smelled worse on your first day on the boat....now where did you say Jamir was...oh yes..down by the river With that Haltani saunters off toward the river pausing momentarily, to peek over her shoulder and wink at Craggark and Torvald. .
A few moments later, Haltani walks up to the bank of the river. She spys Jamir waist deep in the river, his shirt off. He doesn't notice her at first, and Haltani doesn't announce her presence, she just stares, interested. After submerging his head under water and shaking off the freezing shock, Jamir notices Haltani standing a few feet away on the bank. He feels a bit embarrassed suddenly and rushes to the hull of the boat to, don his discarded garment. Jamir, mumbles something about the boat should be ready by the morning while hurriedly tugging on his shirt, and trying to avoid Haltani's inspection.
I didn't realize your umm...kin could be so ah..defined.. Haltani, says somewhat awkwardly. Um, what I mean is uh.. well the halflings I usually meet have round bellies and rosy..ah ..never-mind! Haltani, blinks several times as if gathering resolve. Of coarse you'd be in good shape. You're a trained warrior and a defender of the innocent. Haltani seems relieved as she says her words. I want to apologize if I offended you earlier. I think my own self doubt is poisoning my thoughts about others. I want you to know,.. she pauses for a moment before continuing. She looks at Jamir almost tenderly. I want you to know how much I admire your resolve to defend the helpless and free those in bondage. If more people possessed your courage...I believe Golarion, would be a better place.
Haltani steps closer to Jamir without entering the water. She un-wraps the shawl around her neck and offers it to Jamir to dry his face. Would you tell me something of where you come from Jamir? Why you hate slavery as much as you do? I feel I could learn from you. You know there are others in this world that want to change it too. Haltani, says this last sentence softly, unconsciously looking over her shoulder as she says it. She turns back to Jamir and listens expectantly.
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"I think you went a little heavy on the ice peppers Master Stonecask...Craggark, have you seen Jamir?"
The half-orc does a double-take at the question of ice peppers.
"Torvald, you have ice peppers? What in Baba Yaga's Hut are you doing, mixing them in a fish stew? That's a sure-fire way to give us all flaming diarrhoea!"
"Oh, you'll survive Craggark, you're a big tough boy."
"If you've not experienced the double kiss of ice peppers personally, I would not wish it upon you. It is true that there are some Miusunnit that consider it the mark of a good meal to have tears leaking from their eyes and fire leaking from their nether regions, but I am not one of those pain-seekers."
"I've seen you practically push the entire boat off a sandbar by yourself!"
A puzzling statement. I wonder what she is up to.
"That's neither here, nor there. And I have not seen Hamstring since we disembarked, but I believe I overheard him say something about needing to wash the smell of fish guts off of himself."
"You smelled worse on your first day on the boat....now where did you say Jamir was...oh yes..."
"Um....er...."
I've vexed her worse than I originally thought. She wants no part of me. I hope she harbours no ill will toward Jamir...
Craggark turns to Torvald, mouth agape. He then sniffs the air, his eyes rolling slowly in his sockets.
"There aren't any ice peppers in that!"
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Jamir dresses quickly, gooseflesh covering his skin. He manages not to blush at Haltani’s gaze, but gratefully accepts her shawl to warm up.
He shakes his head at her apology. “No, my lady, you have no need to apologize. These are your lands, and in my pretty speech I criticized it — no more than I would Cheliax or my own homeland, but all the same. Such criticism is always hard from a stranger, even — particularly — when one holds such sentiments oneself. I am sorry to have caused you distress."
“My mother worked — works still — at the shipyard, building great vessels for the Taldan navy. Before I left home, she had been named a foreman, one of the few of my people to be raised so far at the yards.
“My father, well, I think he would better fit the picture you have of halfling men, round belly, rosy cheeks, and all. He owns The Saddled Griffon, one of the finest taverns in Cassomir, and is a priest of Cayden Cailean as well.
“They are good people, and well-respected by the halflings of Cassomir and the tallfolk, too.
“My grandparents, all four of them, were born slaves. My father's parents were in Galt at the time of the Red Revolution. You would think that the revolutionaries would have freed the slaves held by the hated nobility, and you would be right, but of course, there was a catch. The former slaves were conscripted as informants and spies for the revolutionary committees. It was enslavement by another name, and while Taldor is by no means a free state like Andoran, my grandparents had had their fill of revolution and decided that in Cassomir they could make a life.
"My mother's parents were from Cheliax, in the early days of the rule of the devil-worshippers, and the less said about their experience the better. It is enough to say that the moment my grandfather learned my grandmother was pregnant, he made arrangements for them both to be smuggled out of the country. He would not allow their child to be subjected to the same tortures they had suffered.
"They were discovered by their self-proclaimed owner's guardsmen before they reached the harbor. Before they left, my grandfather had taken a sword, a fine, well-made blade, that he planned to sell to give them funds to start a new life. He was no thief, its value was far less than they were owed for their service. Instead, he used the weapon - though he was untrained, and far too small to hold it properly - to hold off four human warriors long enough for my grandmother to escape into the alleys of the capital, and thence to the harbor and the waiting ship."
"As for me, well, if we had met in a tavern or at the theater, I might tell you that I ran off and joined Jean Coremont and his corsairs, and learned my trade as a pirate for the Emperor, but this is a time for truths and not tall tales. I signed on to a merchant ship, lying only a bit about my age to keep from being sent back to my parents. The crew were almost all halflings and gnomes, the captain was a wayang from Tian, if you can believe it. The largest person on the ship was the first mate, a dwarf who was a terror with her fists when she drank but made certain that every one of us could defend ourselves against larger folk when we went ashore. I served on that ship happily for several years, until we took on a Pathfinder as a passenger for a time. The stories she told of her adventures were enough to convince me to jump ship the next time we docked in Absalom harbor.
"That is my tale, my lady, though most of it is not mine at all." Jamir returns Haltani's shawl.
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The alchemist harumphs in mock offense "Of course there's no ice peppers in there! I've never even seen an ice pepper, and after two weeks of your blasted songs about them I don't think I want to! Well if my stew isn't up to the fine palettes of my esteemed guests, mayhaps I'll serve you up half a gallon of antitoxin--then you'll really have something to complain about! The stuff smells like pitch and tastes even worse."
Watching Haltani stride off in search of the halfling, the dwarf chuckles and starts gathering up the dishes to clean them. "Someone is feeling better, it seems. Craggark my friend, perhaps you should add a love song to your repertoire?"
The rest of the afternoon is pleasant. Haltani even joins in, a Pathfinder game of, "guess me land?" It's a game in which, one person tries to imitate the accent of land, they have visited, as the rest try to guess it. Faenethor, wins the contest. Haltani, immediately hits him with a deluge of questions. Faenethor, is only too happy to elaborate on his knowledge of foreign lands but, soon Haltani's eyes glaze over with boredom. Haltani, ask questions like, Is it true that there's a waterfall in River Kingdoms that, you cannot see the bottom of because of the mist? Or, does it really get so hot in Osirion, that you can cook an egg on metal without a fire? Faenethor, usually answers the questions promptly but, follows with a long explanation of a squabble over water rights or the linage of Osirion Pharaohs. In fact, Faenethor is so caught up in his own dialogue that, he doesn't even notice when Haltani slips away.
After 3 days of repairs and a nice break in the weather the group puts the boat back out to water. The process is hastened somewhat, by Jawhar's ability to repair torn sails and frayed ropes with a simple spell. However, more powerful magic is needed to repair the hull and the group must use "old fashioned," elbow grease to finish the task.
The group is in high spirits once again as they set sail back up the Thundering river. As if on queue, the weather begins to worsen. Snow begins to fall steadily as you near the boarder of Irrisen. The trip is rough and the party is jostled around the boat frequently. The river calms but narrows considerably as you near the Irrisen boarder. The temperature drops and ice begins to form on every exposed portion of the boat.
After 5 days of travel Haltani announces, We are nearing the Irrisen boarder. Be prepared, there are boarder guards from both sides that patrol the river. They might consider our presence suspect. A few minutes after Haltani's warning the boat comes upon: A bend in the river and several large rocks that, 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.
Haltani, steers the vessel towards the only navigable channel. Faenethor, Tusk, Craggark, and Torvald are pulling heavy on the oars. As they approach the narrow channel, both Torvald and Tusk spot a heavy rope strung through the low branches over the channel. Both Dwarves begin to shout out their warnings,watch out!, in unison.However, before their warnings are acknowledged, everyone hears the *twang* of a cord being severed, followed by the crashing of a counter weight breaking through branches. A second later, a large net suddenly springs up; mere meters from the bow of the boat.
With the help of the Warnings from Torvald and Tusk and Jamir's quick thinking to use the anchor as a grappling hook, Haltani is able to beach the boat on the southern bank before entangling it in the net. A few of the party members are caught off guard by these sudden actions but, soon snap back into the present situation as two tall blond Ulfen men appear out of the bushes and challenge, What business do you have in Irrisen? Disembark, your vessel and prepared to be searched! Each of the Ulfen Warriors carries a long spear and several javelins. They are not brandishing their weapons but, neither do they look like they are joking in their demands.
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"...and even if we could make any analytical sense of that concept, it would be irrelevant from a historical point of view. For the peasant economy to be viable it's necessary that each local community should support the tradesmen it requires. Labor-time per unit of output has nothing to do with--"
"Oh, drat, she's evaded me again," Faenethor blurts as he realizes Haltani has wandered off yet again.
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When the net is sprung and the ship is brought suddenly to a halt, Faenethor topples backward from his rowing seat, crashing into Craggark. "Oh, apologies!" he sputters as he tries to spit his hair out of his mouth. Hearing the commotion on land, he hurries up to the deck, not bothering to fetch his longbow. He wouldn't need it--he has better tricks up his sleeves (and not just maxmax).
"Perhaps someone should converse with them in Skald to facilitate a mutually agreeable resolution?" He whispers to his shipmates, trying nonchalantly to steal glances at the rough men.
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The half-orc's head is on a swivel, scanning the banks and waterways for evidence of the party that placed the trap, all the while gripping tightly the oars.
"Brace yourselves!"
Craggark prepares for impact.
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Craggark addresses the men in Skald.
"Mine herrer, hilsener. Jeg er Craggark Frostkin. Jeg hyret af disse handlende, der bringer alkymistiske varer til Dalun."
The bluish-grey half-orc takes into consideration the guards' response to his words to determine if other tactics need to be used.
And if he feels that they are not made to feel at ease...
After the Fortune Seeker is purposely run aground, there is a momentary silence and shock among the party as the two Ulfen boarder guards reveal themselves. Some of you disembark the boat, one or two stay, hands near weapons or spell component pouches. Jamir struggles to come up with the nationality of those who confront the group.
A brief moment of silence passes after the warriors challenge, then Craggark begins to address the guards in Skald.
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Whose men are these? Do they belong to the Linnorm Kings or the Witch Queens? Best to assume the worst.
Jamir steps in front of Haltani. His stance is loose, his hands raised to about elbow height, palms facing out as though he is putting them up in surrender. In fact, he is holding his arms loose and close in so that he will be able to draw his rapier quickly if necessary.
In a thick Taldan accent, he says, "Mi amici, I beg you, give me a moment to translate for our Dwarven colleagues."
Jamir turns to Tusk and Torvald, and says in Dwarven: "Ba mhaith leis na fir a fhios ag ár ngnó. Tá siad ag iarraidh orainn a fhágáil ar an long."
What business do you have in Irrisen? Disembark, your vessel and prepared to be searched!
Jamir puts up his hands and says,"Mi amici, I beg you, give me a moment to translate for our Dwarven colleagues." As he clamors over the railing to the shore-side,Jamir turns to Tusk and Torvald, and says in Dwarven:"Ba mhaith leis na fir a fhios ag ár ngnó. Tá siad ag iarraidh orainn a fhágáil ar an long."
At the same time, Craggark eases himself over the side and drops into knee deep water. As he wades toward the bank he hears:
"Perhaps someone should converse with them in Skald to facilitate a mutually agreeable resolution?"Craggark begins to speak as he scales the three foot embankment,
"Mine herrer, hilsener. Jeg er Craggark Frostkin. Jeg hyret af disse handlende, der bringer alkymistiske varer til Dalun."
The warriors reply(in common), Must be stupid Dwarves if they can't speak common! *Har*! Craggarks brow furrows at the remark and he forcefully replies,
"Sikkert Jeg behøver ikke at fortælle min slægt, at vi blev søgt som almindelig pøbel."
/Intimidate: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
The large warriors look at each other in surprise as Craggark speaks. Concern is apparent on at least one of the warriors face. The more courageous of the two begins to speak but, is interrupted,
"Min pårørende ... den Miusunnit, der er. Min mor er Irikh Stonyfish."
The warrior that was about to speak pauses for a moment, concern now creasing his expression, Vil du tale lidt langsommere, Hvordan siger du ... på dansk. he says as his knuckles tighten around the shaft of his spear.
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Jawhar is extremely confused by the appearance of the Ufen warriors.
The net across the rapids seems more like a pirate ambush but the warriors then addressed the group as if they have proper authority to conduct searches.
The additional conversations are even more confusing, as at first Craggark takes on an agressive tone. Jawhar begins readying his shield and scimitar in response to the tone, only for Tusk and Craggark to then offer the men the opportunity to board the ship.
Reacting to this new tone, and remembering the Venture-Captain's warning not to antagonize the locals, he lets the scimitar return to its scabbard and moves to the top of the gangplank.
"May the Dawnflower's smile warm your camp, gentlemen. We are simple traders on our way to Dalun to attempt to forge some peaceful agreements with the locals there.
We certainly have no reason to object to a search other then the unusual tactics you have used in placing a trap across the river. Please come aboard and inspect our wares. You will notice that some of the goods are perishable and while we would be very interested in seeing Whiterook, we simply can't delay our trip any more than the river already has. Perhaps we will have the opportunity to visit on our way back down river?"
The leader of the two warriors takes a step back, as Tusk approaches and then relaxes as he observes Tusk holster his weapon. So you do speak common? he spares an accusing glance at Jamir. Keep your hands away from your weapons and the rest of you come ashore while my brother searches your craft. Haltani quickly parts the vessel being careful to keep Craggark and Jamir between her and the boarder guards.
The other Ulfen warrior brushes roughly past Faenethor, as he gingerly steps over the bow trying to avoid getting his garments wet. The warrior begins to search the boat, while Torvald is still on board. Hey what's that! let me take a look there...you trying to hide somehing? the searching warrior addresses Torvald, as he is shouldering, the pack filled with blackfire clay.
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@&%*ing €#^$. I thought the plan was that the dwarves couldn't speak Common and needed an interpreter. I guess Tusk decided against that, and also decided that they could search our boat for the group. Wish he would have told us instead of not saying a blasted thing. Maybe I could make it seem that Hamstring isn't a complete liar.
The half-orc locks eyes on Jamir.
"Jamir, would you please interpret the gentleman's request for our dwarven friend?"
He looks at the Ulfen leader and jerks his thumb at Torvald.
"Brilliant alchemist. Not so gifted with languages."
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Torvald blinks for a moment. Craggark, why are you making us do this? I can't lie worth a damn.
Holding his hands up to demonstrate they're empty, he motions towards the pack of blackfire clay before slowly taking it back off and passing it over.
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Jamir's vapid, non-threatening smile does not falter, but his eyes narrow in irritation. And should I also offer to strip naked and dance the Taldan Two-Step? Why do we not simply tell them that we are Pathfinders hoping to find a valuable artifact and make a significant trade deal with their greatest enemies and be done with it?
Turning to the Ulfen guard grabbing for Torvald's pack, Jamir translates the alchemist's response, albeit perhaps a little loosely.
"The learned alchemist Torvald Stonecask commends you on your commitment to duty, for which the dwarven people are also so well known. He states that he has no intention of interfering with you carrying out your responsibilities. However, he wishes you to know that his pack contains a valuable substance of his creation; when correctly activated, it does give off heat, but if handled roughly it may - very occasionally - burst into flame. Such fires are not large, of course, and would pose no real danger to the ship, but his former assistant was quite badly burned during the manufacture of the material."
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While the exchange between Torvald and the Ulfen proceeds, Jawhar is still standing at the top of the gangplank, shield in hand, other hand on the railing, simply awaiting Torvald's departure from the ship.
If the warrior insists on Jawhar's departure, he will say:
"An inspection of cargo without the presence of a single member of the crew is highly irregular.
We bear you no ill will, yet you have shown us nothing to indicate that you have any official status with the local government and have strung traps across the river in the manner of common brigands.
If you must inspect the ship, fine, but let us do so efficiently so that all of us can get out of this cold wind and back to our assigned duties.
I, or our captain, if you prefer, will follow to be on hand to answer any questions you may have."
If the warrior absolutely insists, and none of the crew make any effort to put a stop to it, Jawhar will acquiesce and leave the ship, but only after everyone else has disembarked.
The warrior who is inspecting the ship eyes widen as Jamir translates the following,
it does give off heat, but if handled roughly it may - very occasionally - burst into flame.
As Torvald attempts to hand over the blackfire clay, He waves his hands frantically in front of him, Um..tell him he can keep it, I don't wan..um need it! With that the warrior attempts to back away a little from Torvald and bumps straight into Jawhar, on the gangplank.
"An inspection of cargo without the presence of a single member of the crew is highly irregular.
We bear you no ill will, yet you have shown us nothing to indicate that you have any official status with the local government and have strung traps across the river in the manner of common brigands.
If you must inspect the ship, fine, but let us do so efficiently so that all of us can get out of this cold wind and back to our assigned duties.
The inspecting warrior looks a little flustered as he say,It's alright inspection is over he moves to squeeze past Jawhar on the gangplank. Seeing Jawhar is not in the mood to budge, he instead scuttles toward the bow and jumps off the boat, into ankle deep freezing mud. The warrior on the shore then pipes in. Alright southern priest, that's enough. If you want to stay and guard your boat I already said you could. The *leader warrior* looks at Jamir and says, Tell the Dwarf on the boat he's gotta come with us though. And he needs to bring that stuff...whatever it is! After a moments thought he adds, but tell him he has to walk behind us 10 paces! Come on lets go! He uses his spear point to motion for his comrade to hurry.
A few moments later the group is gathered together on shore. The *leader warrior* states Whiterook is about an hour hike. Stay close to us and you won't get lost. One or two of you can stay on your boat if you like. The rest of you have to come with us and talk to Halvor. If you try to slip away or resist, there will be a fight, and you will have made an enemy of our clan. with that, the two warriors begin to walk into the treeline and the snow covered forest. The *leader* stops after 30 paces and looks over his shoulder, to make sure the group is following.
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"A moment, mi amici, I beg you. I must translate for my learned friend, and then we need to consider whether one of us should remain with our divine chaplain, or if he should join us on our journey. If he remains behind, will our ship be safe from bandits or pirates, do you think?"
Jamir translates the guards' words into Dwarven for Torvald, then adds:
"Tá mé oscailte do mholtaí - a cheapann tú ba chóir dúinn dul chomh maith a fháil amach cad ba mhaith leis an Halvor, nó a chur ar troid ar é? Tá mé cinnte nach mbeadh an dá chur ar fáil go leor den dúshlán ar a gcuid féin, ach beidh orainn chun teacht ar ais ar an mbealach seo nuair a bhíonn muid réidh le filleadh agus má naimhde acu a dhéanamh againn anois, beidh siad ag fanacht linn i bhfeidhm."
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I swear, you never learn. You keep opening up your stupid toothy mouth.
The half-orc looks irked but resigned to their current trail.
This is my homeland. I'm not getting into a fight with men of a Linnorm King - that blood will spill onto my mother's hands and those of my Miusunnit brethren.
I also don't want to leave my new colleagues to the hospitality of this Whiterook battle chief unattended, but I can't leave the ship unattended.
Damnit.
"Alright look, we will all come with you to Whiterook to meet your battle chief, but we need to hire out one of you to stay with our ship and guard it while we go. You're obviously excellent border guards - let us pay one of you to stay with our ship and guard it. I'll pay the man who stays 5 gold pieces now; I'll pay the other man 5 gold pieces on our safe return. You don't need both of you to get us to Whiterook, and this way you can both make some money while you do your sworn duty."
Craggark envisions Abadar balancing the scales.
Is it alright if we all come, or must one of us stay on this boat?
You can guard your boat or not we don't care. But, if you are all coming, hurry up! The day grows long says the one with the muddy boots.