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"Close the door," Ambrus Valsin murmurs as the team gathers in his office. "Let me start by saying, this mission is not for dissemination among other members of the Society." The chamberlain of the Grand Lodge 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."
"Better yet, perhaps you should take this note down to Master of Spells Aram Zey, and see if he would be willing to transport you all via the Hao Jin Tapestry. That would save valuable time, given that the trip to Irrisen will take months. You will, however, be on your own for the return trip, of course." Then with a final nod for luck, the venture-captain dismisses the group.
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"I hear there's a half-orc that is cursing his luck that he is in the Mwangi Expanse and not up north where it is cold like the blood that runs through his veins..." Arturo smiles as he twizzles more product into his mustache, "I'll have to bring him back a souvenir. So, Captain Valsin, will we have to pick up our own cold wrather gear or will some be provided when we meet up with those Viking types? Will we have a guide, or are we to make our own way from Ulfen territory into the land of the ice witches?"
Captives, eh? I must remember to pick up some nice manacles today.
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Jaender keeps to the shadows in the back of the room, remembering how this Venture Captain treated him on his first mission for the society. That was of course, long ago, and the little sorcerer had requited himself well over the following months.
He shivers a bit, thinking of the cold north, his mind going to thick furs just as Arturo brings it up.
"So we are just escorting a group of goblin prisoners? And keeping them from killing each other, and causing trouble?"
Jaender mulls over the color spray spell that bounces around in his brain.
that may come in handy...
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Roudantaimi parades in the middle of the room, making sure everyone sees his new Shining Wayfinder he got personally from Ollysta Zadrian, for his service for the Silver Crusade. "Escorting prisoners? That... that doesn't sound very heroic, does it?" the gnome looks quite disappointed when hearing the assignment. "And goblins..? Yes, I see the challenge there. Then again the goblins of Zog's lot were a great sport, eh Artie?" Roudi winks at the moustachioed rogue, and smirks devilishly. "I hope they're more like the Bramblesomethings than the gobbo with bottles in its head. I think it would be very, very, very long trip to escort a tribeful of invisible, axe-swinging, raging, bottleheaded goblins anywhere. Oh, do you think it's politically correct call them gobbos?"
The gnome walks over to a wall hanging a map of Golarion, getting up on his toes to see the norther parts. "This Irrisen... Who has been there? What's it like? Is the food any good up there?"
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"Ha!" exclaims Arturo, "So we can kill up to half of them. Should be fine. I don't suppose anyone speaks Skald? Should we be investing in translation devices, Mon Venture-Capitaine... or do enough folk speak Taldan that we'll be alright?"
Arturo flicks at the nice, neat piles of paperwork that always seem to adorn Valsin's desk, "Well, it looks like we should go shopping, then. Anyone care to begin a shopping list? I think at least some scrolls of cold endurance would be wise. Definitely need some winter clothing. Maybe a good set of snow shoes each? I'll have to speak to the supply officer about his recommendations, I guess...
"Oh, and Sir?" Arturo asks, finally snapping back from his trail of thought, "Would you like us to try to extract the information from these goblins? After all, if we later lose them, not all will be lost if we know what they know."
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Arturo leans on Valsin's desk and 'accidentally' knocks over a pile of paperwork ( ).
"Oh, Venture-Captain! Look what has happened to your lovely pile of papers," Arturo scrambles for them, stepping on more than a few as he attempts to pick them up, his muddy boots leaving prints on a few choice documents, "Oh, now look what I've done..."
I think Farabellus was thinking 'we need fewer pen-pushing, pompous gits around here'...
"Well, you know us field commissioned agents, not so good at the 'report' part of our credos!" Arturo says as Valsin angrily shoos him away and picks up the papers himself, "I'll do my best to rectify the situation. Now, if you can refresh my memory: Aram Zey? He's that flighty blonde elf who loves puzzles, yes?"
Yeah, let's see how you react when I confuse Aram Zey with Kreighton Shaine! Ha!
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"Oooh, everyone come see my new tabard. Look it here, see that duck?" Ophiuchus holds up a section. "It looks like it is preening its feathers. And here is one eating algae, and this one, oh my. Well that is what Merian and I used to do. Although I did do it fiercely."
His companions have never seem him blush, and he probably physically can't, but that is a close to embarrassed as they will likely ever see him.
All the while he is talking about ducks, they can't help but notice the new Plate mail shimmering with magical energies, or the flail now embossed with magical runes. The nagaji also fails to mention the time he has spent meditating in the woods, drawing close to the great one, learning new powers.
"More goblins" he says in a disappointed voice. "If they have tubes in their heads, I will have to kill them, or if they make animals wild, or if they are dead but once lived and are now dead again. But other than that I think we are good. I might want to have a look around town."
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Jaender jumps as the stack of papers hits the floor, reminded so much of what his pack sounds like when he drops it.
"oh oh, let me help. Don't worry Arturo, I do that stuff all the time."
Jaender's tiny body scurries around, trying to help, but unfortunately only getting in the way even more. When Valsin inevitably scolds the little wayang along with the rogue, Jaender puts the stack he has gathered on the table, knocking over the stack next to it.
"Oh dear... "
Jaender hangs his head in shame, wincing from the verbal assault.
"Now might be a good time to go... I think we have the information we need..."
A few minutes later as the companions walk towards the sundry shop, Jaender turns to Arturo, completely oblivious to his sly shenanigans.
"Sorry if I got you in more trouble back there... I can be so clumsy sometimes. What an odd coincidence, I haven't known you to be that clumsy... I must be rubbing off on you."
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Valsin does his best to hide his anger at Arturo and Jaender, as he quickly casts a spell. The papers swirl around in the air, reorganizing themselves into neat piles once again. Then, the mud, which has magically separated itself from the papers, places itself neatly into the waste bin by the desk.
"Pathfinders, let us at least try and be professional, here. You know very well the difference between the Masters of Spells and Scrolls. However, I would expect that Master Zey would love the opportunity to give you lessons to that matter."
"Do you have any... pertinent questions?"
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Arturo and Gaston, his fellow 'Street Recruit' (as they called themselves), had always wondered what would happen if someone laid out a steaming turd directly on Valsin's desk. This, obviously. Somehow, to Arturo, the world was an even worse place for knowing that Valsin would so easily be able to clean up his leavings. As the dirt shifts from the paper to the bin, a foul expression and even fouler mood overcomes Arturo.
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"Where are we going again? You say it is cold. Oh that is not good for me. Are there ducks in the cold? They seem too smart to be there. Not me however. I get to protect goblins. And be cold. How exciting. I guess I will have to pass the time by making up names for each of my ducks. And possibly a story to go along with it. So the first duck, as you can see here." he points to a duck none of the other Pathfinders can distinguish from any other. "His name is Bill. Can you see how majestic he is, about to take flight from the water? Well when Bill was a chick, his mother would often waddle around the shore looking for green grass to feed her brood. When his mother was away, Bill would try and fly before all the others. He would take a great waddling start and flap his wings for all that he was worth. One day, while he was doing this, running and flapping and running and flapping, he looked around and realized that he was not by the pond anymore. He quacked to his mother. He quacked to his brothers. He quacked to his sisters, but no one answered. Wait, where are you all going? I didn't get to the part about how Bill rode the fox into the rabbit hole. Oh well, I guess we have a long voyage ahead of us for me to continue.
Oh looks, weapons!"
The Nagaji strides up to a booth. "Hello. I am Ophiuchus Vargidan,the Battle Nagaji. I am looking for weapons that kill evil creatures form a long way away. This is called a javelin? And I throw it?" He picks one up and feels its weight. "Great, I will take three. This is a heavy crossbow you say? Perfect. Oh look, furs."
Running over to a stall containing various clothes, "Look at my tabard. See the ducks? You don't care? Buy something or you are going to do what? That is not very nice. No I do not want that there. I actually don't put anything there. I will take clothes to make me warm. Ones that do not smell like you. Better. I do not know how to do that. I know what off means, but the first part I am not familiar with that word. Oh. Yes I have done that. See the ducks here doing that. I don't understand. I just wanted clothes to be warm. You are not a nice woman. Have a good day."
3 javelins 3gp
heavy crossbow 50gp
botls (20) 2gp
Cold-Weather Outfit 8 gp
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The brute hangs at the back, letting the more socially-graced Pathfinders talk with the Venture Captain. His expression doesn't change as he listens to Valsin talk, not Arturo's snappy retorts, the 'accidental' stack dropping, Jaender's ill-fated attempts to help, and Valsin's magicking of the problems away. He merely nods to the man, then makes his way out the door with the others.
"Yes, Ophiuchus, your tabard looks great. The ducks are so fierce and proud. A pity this one did not commission a twin for it. Oh well, this one shall buy some warm clothing, as it seems to be a cold journey. What? No, this one does not think cuddling is appropriate, but thanks for the offer."
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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 continually 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 Ulfen defenders 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.
EDIT: Added Vox's roll
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Arturo ignores the agitated Valsin and turns to his comrades, "So, as you know, escorting goblins is going to be more of a pain in the arse than attending a lecture at the Lodge. They hate dogs and are generally some of the nastiest, most sadistic creatures of their stature... almost on the same level as evil fey. They hate dogs (except goblin dogs and wolves for some reason), fear horses (who doesn't?) and absolutely adore fire.
"Our rations will be sparse and we don't have time to hunt (not that I'm sure how to even find game in such a frozen wasteland). We've got one day we could hunt on, but I don't want to supervise goblins on such an endeavor. Speaking of supervision, the little f*ckers are likely to eat all our food at once if we let them get to it, so eyes on our rations at all times!
"We can't really tie them up, either," Arturo continues, exasperated byhis own thoughts, "They'll hate that. The struggling and complaining will slow us down even more than chasing the hyperactive pyromaniacs down at every turn."
Arturo pauses for thought. "So perhaps our best option would be to bundle them all up on a wolf-drawn sled, promising them fireworks if they comply. "
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"Fireworks! funny thing about that... I've just managed to master a new spell. well, a few new spells. One of them puts on a wonderful fireworks display! however, I cannot seem to recall that burning hands spell... Either way, fire and I get along quite well. Perhaps this won't be too terribly difficult..."
Jaender smiles, keeping his worried thoughts buried for now.
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"Along our journey, we'll be passing along a disputed border between two Irrisen and the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. It would be best keep our distance from the actual border until we’re ready to cross, else we may draw unwanted attention and unneeded trouble upon ourselves," the youth pipes up, trying to contribute to the others. This is one time Vox feels like he can truly contribute to his friends, in a way other than simply swinging his hammer or sending Einhardt to tear some poor, hapless creature apart.
"Crossing the Iceflow River on the border will be mighty difficult, without attracting unwanted attention and broadcasting that our intention is to intentionally bring live goblins into Ulfen lands," Vox continues, and then nods in agreement to his mustachioed friend. "Aye, Arturo is right. Finding food will be difficult, as well. Irrisen is gripped by eternal winter... there are no crops... only fishing and, with great luck, hunting...."
"To add a possibly small complication, the snow goblins are considered proper citizens in Irrisen, espeically in Whitethrone... and something to a lesser degree everywhere else."
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"those snow shoes look like a wise investment Arturo, I should get myself a pair. My fire breath will only melt so much snow, particularly in a land that is perpetually under the snow... I cannot think of more questions, should we be off?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Yeah, probably best to get out of here," Arturo looks up to Valsin, "Wouldn't want to wear out our welcome. Let's get warm and cozy and head off to the Lands of the Linnorm Kings! Lort is going to burst a blood vessel when I tell him about this..."
Arturo skips off to the supply room, and then off to Aram Zey's office.
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"I'll have to pick up a pair of those fancy snowshoes too, Arturo," Vox says, eying the others and their new equipment. "Einhardt should be ok without them though." Vox adds with a slight laugh.
"After all of our time spent underground, having some time in wild, open country will be a nice change of pace," the youth suggests. "Even if it may be bitterly cold and still littered with goblins..."
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Jaender, ready to leave with snowshoes and snowgear making him look like a bundle of sundries ready to be stocked on the shelves, suddenly becomes paranoid about food...
"Maybe I should buy some extra rations too... Not sure what would be worse, starving to death or freezing to death..."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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After the team stops at the Grand Lodge's quartermaster to purchase provisions, and cold weather gear, they head down to the deep subbasement where The Master of Spells, Aram Zey is inspecting a door-seized tapestry of intricately woven but badly frayed cloth. He looks up as the team moves in. "I suppose you are here on a mission, and that I am to transport you there. Where are your papers? And hurry up about it, I don't have all day."
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Arturo pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his pant pocket. He is about to hand it over to the Master of Spells before reconsidering at the last minute. The rogue instead smooths it out flat on his thigh, and then dusts the flour and sand off it. He then picks off a few choice bits of moldy bacon and a dead grass spider, "How did that get in there?", before scraping the last of the dried blood off it with a fingernail. Arturo finally holds the note from Valsin up, gives it a crisp flick and passes it to Arum Zey.
"Erm, it had been in there at least an hour," he says, half apologetically, "You know how it goes."
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"It seems we don't have all day either, otherwise we would be on a ship, or a caravan..." Jaender mutters to himself, suddenly not looking forward to a week in the frozen north.
at least I have the blood of a fire wyrm... Hopefully it will do me some good...
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Oooh Master Zey. Did you see my duck tabard? Look at this duck, he is magical. See he is casting fly and it looks like it is about to take off. Amazing magical flying ducks. How does this work? I have seen magical pools but not magical rugs? Do we fly on this up in the clouds, maybe seeing a flock of ducks flapping away? Or is this a magical blanket used to keep us warm on cold nights? I don't want to snuggle with Mr. Hairylips when it is cold. He makes strange moaning noises when he sleeps, and grunts that make me feel uncomfortable. I am ready for the big magic!"
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The Master of Spells looks pained when Ophiuchus starts talking... much like he has every time that the nagaji has been in his lecture, class, or mere presence. This causes the wizard to quickly perform his ritual, and indicates that the Pathfinders should touch the tapestry just here, and they go though.
The hurried departure leaves the Pathfinders some distance from the camp they are to pick up their captives at, but with Vox's guidance, they quickly make it there. Sverrir Lightfoot's camp is in the process of being broken down.
The Ulfen ranger greets the Pathfinders, but has a harried look about here. "Good. You are finally here. You can take the little bastards now, and we can get back to work."
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Roudantaimi steps through the Hao Jin Tapestry, his eyes widening in bewilderment. "Sweet..." the gnome whispers, trying to look back where he came from, but sees only open space. That does make travel so much faster....
The gnome greets the ranger with enthusiastic smile. "Well, they are not you problem for much longer, are they? Have they been behaving?" he asks, already guessing the answer.
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"Happy to take the little greenskins off you, there," says Arturo, full of false bluster and knowing full-well what taking over the goblins is likely to entail, "How about you introduce us to them. I am able to speak goblin quite well, but it would be a relief if they spoke the common tongue so that I don't have to act as a translator."
Arturo looks around for the little creatures that have become so... familiar... to him of late.
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"Aye, hopefully they speak common," Vox agrees with Arturo, pausing to look at he new scenery surrounding them. "Also, if there is any advice you might have for us, on dealing with these particular goblins, it would be much appreciated."
"We have more experience than most in the world, dealing civilly with these creatures..." Vox begins shifting uneasily in the cold.. "But our expertise in dealing with goblins is still..." The youth pauses, trying to think of just the right words to describe the many fights he and his friends have had with goblins. "... the old fashion way."