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Game by invite only.
A Pathfinder Society Scenario designed for levels 1–5.
Rumors of an ancient settlement and its priceless treasure locked beneath Irrisen’s perpetual ice have reached the Society’s ears. The Pathfinders set out to the Land of the Linnorm Kings with a precious cargo of trade goods to buy their way into the witch-ruled nation, but even approaching Irrisen is fraught with danger. Can the PCs navigate the frozen wastes and recover the relics within, or will the icy climate claim their lives?
Content in “From Under Ice” contributes directly to the Year of the Sky Key metaplot as well as the ongoing storyline of the Grand Lodge and Scarab Sages factions.
Written by Andrew Hoskins.
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Upon watching the two obviously attractive spellcasters join him in the room, Davorin looks particularly happy.
He smiles and winks, "Both you young lasses look fine, I don't think cold weather gear is needed at all. Don't listen to anybody who says otherwise."
He pauses before continuing, "I'm liking the look of this party already."
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Clearly observing the reaction of his compatriot Davorin smiles even wider before speaking.
"I am hardly typical m'lady. I doubt any of us are - we are Pathfinders after all. But you're welcome to make your own conclusions of course. All of which I'm sure will paint me in a fine light once this adventure is done."
"Now, I'm assuming our Venture Captain didn't just invite the four of us to this party. Has anybody heard anything about who else may be joining us?"
Turning his back slightly and lowering his voice, you can barely hear Davorin speak to himself, "I do hope they don't put me up with yet another gnome, I would like to come back alive from this."
Davorin pulls a ragged and dogeared copy of the latest Pathfinder Chronicle out of his back pocket and starts flipping through it making occasional, 'hmmm' and 'uh-huh' noises.
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Davorin appears to deflate about three inches in height as he lets out an enormous sigh. The look on his face clearly betrays his thoughts as he looks towards the heavens and whispers, "Desna, what did I do this time?"
"Well I suppose there's nothing we can do now but make the most of this. Has anybody seen our Venture Captain? Maybe he can shed some light on where we're going." Davorin follows up his statement with a nervous laugh.
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Kirin reenters the room carrying a bundle of neatly folded furs stepping delicately over the Gnome's scattered possessions to move to a position in the corner. She surveys the occupants of the room carefully whilst awaiting instructions as to the details of the peril she is about to embark upon with this group of wayward adventurers.
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The hull of the Grinning Pixie creaks and groans in the freezing waters of Kalsgard, at the mouth of the Rimeflow River. Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry, the half-orc captain of the vessel, shivers as she strides in to her well-furnished cabin and out ofthe bitter winds. A Varki woman clad in leathers and a snow leopard fur coat is already seated inside the cabin. “Welcome to the Linnorm Kingdoms,” says Venture-Captain Calisro Benarry. She takes a long drag from a hip flask before continuing. “The North is no place for a free captain, but here we are. Oh, Kalsgard is fine—they’ve got stiff drink here—but you’ve got to head inland, where it’s even colder.” She pulls her mammoth-fur coattighter across her body as she continues. “I hope you all weren’t planning to freeze to death and packed for the weather.”
“You’ve all heard of Jormurdun? Well, that dwarven sky citadel contained an artifact called the Sky Key. King Gutheran broke it into five pieces and gave four of them to his heirs as they fled the invasion, keeping the fifth for himself. One of Gutheran’s heirs, Naldak, traveled into what is now southwestern Irrisen and established a small town called Naldak’s Point. That’s where the trail goes cold. Most likely, Baba Yaga wiped them out when she invaded. The piece of the Sky Key and the ruins of Naldak’s Point are probably buried under a millennium of ice and snow, just waiting for someone—you—to go dig them out. I’ve packed you ten blocks of blackfire clay to make the
task more manageable,” the venture-captain says, handing over a backpack stuffed with blackbricks. “Don’t forget to take these with you.”
“You’re heading east, up the Rimeflow and Thundering Rivers, past the Grungir Forest, and into Irrisen. Desna smiles—the site is about half a day’s hike north of Dalun, a small trade city on the Irrisen border. Take a small river boat packed with supplies and a letter of trade, make nice with the city officials, and see if you can get permission to travel inland. Head to the site and find our missing Sky
Key piece. You’ll know you’re on the right track if you recover signs that the royal family settled there.”
"Watch yourselves in Irrisen. Antagonizing the locals is like poking a sleeping ice bear in the eye, except it won’t kill you as quickly. The Society is not especially welcome in Irrisen, so try to keep what friends we have, and if you can, make new ones. With that it mind, I’ve hired a local to bring you safely to Dalun.” Venture-Captain Benarry gestures toward the Varki woman. “This is Haltani, and she will guide you into and out of Irrisen alive.”
The Varki woman springs to her feet gracefully and addresses the party. “It is always a pleasure to meet travelers from faraway lands. It is true that Irrisen is a harsher land than most. Keep your wits about you, and your journey should be profitable.”
Venture-Captain Benarry says, "Please make use of the Grinning Pixie's quartermaster. We are well provisioned, so you should be able to find just about anything you would like. Do make sure you've purchases cold weather gear, though."
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Looking over his shoulder at his own hefty and well packed backpack Davorin points to the overstuffed pack on the table. Blackfire clay? I don't think I've heard of this substance. Is it safe?" Changing his glance towards their guide, he asks a more directed question. "This Naldak’s Point, I assume nobody has heard anything of this town in some time by the way you're speaking. Is there any word what we might find?"
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Irrisen is known as the Land of Eternal Winter, as it stays freezing year round. Powerful witches known as the White Witches rule the nation and allow monsters the same rights as humanoids. The human descendants of Baba Yaga are called Jadwiga, and are the aristocracy of Irrisen. Ulfen people who find themselves in Irrisen at the bottom of the social hierarchy; the fortunate are serfs, and the rest are slaves.
Intelligent monstrous races, such as ice trolls and winter wolves, are citizens in Irrisen. Though not as socially powerful as the Jadwiga, they command considerable respect and are often able to do as they please without consequence.
Recently, some younger Jadwiga have begun to question the insular culture and closed borders of Irrisen. They seek to learn about peoples outside of Irrisen, the more “exotic” the better. The White Witches have dubbed them the stilyagi, or “culture crows,” as they disregard the culture of Irrisen and mimic the cultures of other foreign lands. However, because they rarely have the opportunity to interact with foreigners, their depictions are often wildly outdated, stereotypical, and even downright offensive.
Irrisen has a violent history with all of its neighbors, but especially with the Ulfen from the Linnorm Kingdoms. Jadwiga sometimes capture and enslave Ulfen people.
Baba Yaga and an army of monsters, including ice trolls, winter wolves, and evil fey, invaded the eastern portion of the Land of the Linnorm Kings in 3313 AR. They took only 23 days
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Knowledge History
Knowledge Arcana on Baba Yaga
”Oh, oh, oh! I know a few things about these sort of … things! But first I need some help getting into these … furs! The gnome struggles with the hat most of all as it doesn’t fit very well over his giant thick spectacles. ”confounded eyewear! I swear I am never going to buy ANYTHING from an elf again, they are all .. pish.. and posh… and LOOK at this!” Bert runs around in a semi-panic as Prizm tries to get a small fur hat on the bird.
“When are we leaving? And can I request our next adventure is something more akin to a tropical place? Gnomes tend to excel in a… warmer climb! Hey… I like that bard lady… do you know anything about the Gnomes of Golarion?”
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Davorin does a facepalm and shakes his head.
"Here, let me help you with that." He plucks the hat off the gnome's head and tries shoving it on with both hands. Clearly the hat is two sizes too small but he tries very hard anyway. "QUIT WIGGLING!"
I swear...when I get back to the Grand Lodge...if I get back to the Grand Lodge, somebody is going to hear about this.
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"I would be interested in meeting these 'jidriga' and not meeting those winter witches. But I expect We will and we won't. If you know what I mean..."
Of course, no one knows what he means but he believes his statement as eloquent as Lya's.
"Most importantly, how do we know a winter witch when we see one? And how do we kill them if we get trapped by one?"
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Kirin listens attentively to Venture-Captain Benarry then proceeds to ask questions, relaying any information gained to the party.
When done speaking to the Venture-Captain Kirin takes great care to introduce herself warmly to the Varki woman, imagining that being friends with this woman could very well save her life in the fridged cold to come.
When the speaking is concluded she will attempt to don her cold weather gear and prepare to depart. She does so rather clumsily, however, having never spent much time in the cold before, and is clearly a bit apprehensive of the prospect of doing so now. She attempts to maintain dignity as she fumbles with the clasps and ties.
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This Naldak’s Point, I assume nobody has heard anything of this town in some time by the way you're speaking. Is there any word what we might find?"
“Not much. I found the name in an old book, and then found the location on this old Ulfen map that predates Irrisen. It’s mostly a dwarven town, so it was probably underground."
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Venture-Captain Benarry provides the team with a map of Irrisen. The rough location of Naldak’s Point is marked on the map. In addition, she gives the team a letter of trade, which they can use to trade for goods in Dalun, and 10 blocks of blackfire clay. Finally, Venture-Captain Benarry loans the team the use of a small sailing boat.
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"Good day, Kirin Quetzal. It is a pleasure to meet someone from so far away... a place so different than my homeland. However, I have heard that the deserts of the Padishah Empire of Kelesh are not that different than our snow covered lands... except perhaps in their temperature? Both are barren to the eyes of outsiders, but full of life to those that live there." Haltani replies.
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Davorin gives up trying to wrestle the Gnome and straightens himself ready to ask a few more questions. "This town of Dalun, can you tell us anything about it? Any word of advice on trading? I know that trolls and other things we'd consider uncivilized are welcome in Irisen, so should we be prepared to trade with them, or is this a human settlement?"
He looks thoughtfully a moment, "you also mentioned allies, should we expect any along the way?"
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Venture-Captain Benarry says, "Allies? I don't recall saying anything about finding any. Haltani here is your guide, and you should do what you can to avoid causing trouble. Expect that the land will be harsh, and her inhabitants perhaps more so. When in Dalun, get permission to adventure inland. Oh, and don't piss off the Jadwiga."
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Davorin looks confused, pulls out his note pad and consults what he's written down. "Um sir? You said, 'so try to keep what friends we have.' Now please forgive my forwardness, because I know you have a lot on your mind, but wouldn't that imply you said we have allies in the area? I mean I'm just asking because you said something about it and I want to make sure we follow your instructions appropriately."
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Bennary takes another long pull from her flask. "Pathfinders. What I meant was to be careful. Try not to antagonize everyone you come across." She takes yet another pull, and then looks at the flask, shaking her head. She sighs, and continues. "Look for opportunities to make friends, but try and avoid making new enemies. Haltani here will help you get into Dalun... and area that has historically been hostile territory to the Pathfinder Society."
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"Well I'm satisfied. This sounds like a fine adventure and one that I hope can be published in one of the chronicles. We should probably distribute the gear though."
Davorin leans over and grabs the map."I'm not one for trade, so I'll leave those supplies for you all to fight over." Davorin walks over to their guide and looks ready, and quite eager, to get moving.
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With a most determined and suprisingly focused look on his small large nosed face. "Let's go get this moving along, I have many things that demand my attention! Do you think that the cold will freeze my ink? I dont want to end up going thru quills - Dodo feathers really dont hold up well and Bert is a bit ... well dispondant with my recent aquisitions."
With that the flamboyant gnome gives a flourish of his nimble fingers and speaks the words Ghzuln Frknav (ghost sound)
GONG!
WE GO
(adjusts fur hat several times)
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Kirin smooths her furs, lifts her chin, and stands straight. "Trade negotiations? My specialty." Kirin says as she takes the proffered letter of trade.
Surveying it, she mumbles aloud, more to herself than anything. "What have I got to work with here?"
Stiffening slightly at the breeze from Lya opening the door, she braces herself and prepares to depart.
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Having no further questions, the Pathfinders and Haltani board the small sailing boat and head upriver.
The wind carries the small sailing vessel upriver. On the banks, the occasional elk or deer dashes away at the sight of the ship. At night, the temperature drops dramatically while wolves howl in the distance. The trip up the Rimeflow and Thundering Rivers takes several weeks, but passes in relative safety. Most of the landscape is comprised of rocky grassland and rough hills. The Land of the Linnorm Kings is a rugged land with rugged people. Occasionally the party passes fishing villages where grim people give them evaluating gazes, scowl at them, or ignore them completely.
On the first night, Haltani sits next to Kirin as asks, "You seem to be someone of a similar mind to myself, even though we were born a world apart. Please, tell me about yourself. I have heard you come from a harsh land... they say that about my homeland as well..."
Occassionally, you see Haltani remove a pale blue diamond necklace from under her furs and gaze longingly at it.
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"I love a good tale! Ah but where to begin? Clearly the beginning!"
Lya looks ecstatic at the opportunity for story telling. She seems to prepare herself a moment,
"I come from a family of traveling performers. Some of the most beautiful, graceful performances that can bring a tear to your eye. For you see - the family legend is our blood has been truly touched by an angel, but not just any - one that remains our muse to this day.
My Father told me that the Angel was a messenger from Shelyn herself, to inspire the love of art and to share it wherever we go." Lya takes a dramatic pause.
"To my father's chagrin - i took this to heart and have learned and followed Shelyn's teachings - and set off to find the true meaning of inner beauty. I've spent time at many monasteries in my travels. But my heart kept me moving - always looking for further enlightenment.
And then I found myself in Absalom, where this lovely halfling joined me in a performance. She introduced me to the Pathfinder Society, a group that I could find a mutual relationship - they would send me on missions and I could extend my travels faster than on my own. And here we are! My first trip to the frozen north!"
She concludes her story standing facing the distant Ice and snow, breathing deeply of the cold air and smiling.
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Davorin waits patiently for his opportunity to talk to Haltani. Sitting in awe at the story told by Lya he stutters a little when he begins speaking, "I...I, um...clearly don't have the ability to tell my story with the spoken word as well as my colleague here. I'm more interested in documenting my words and travels in more permanent formats." He pulls a small journal out of his bag.
"I am a Varisian - so I'm sure you've heard the tales of our carousing and our reputation.” He looks a little embarrassed by this statement before continuing, ”I swear we're nowhere near as bad as people have made it out to be, and I could talk your ears off for hours about cultures far more exciting than my own.”
Davorin looks a little sad as he continues to talk. ”I'm also without a home, or parents for that matter. I grew up in an orphanage to Desna and I think it’s fair to say her wanderlust rubbed off on me. So, I've spent most of my time on this planet traveling, experiencing culture, and learning what I can about this vast world of ours. That's what made me answer the callings of the Pathfinders." He looks particularly proud of that last statement. ”You’re more than welcome to read whatever you want about anywhere I’ve been. My chronicles are open to all of you for reading.”
He finishes his story by opening his journal and showing Haltani a copy of the map of where he's been and his notes on the people and cultural differences he's met on his travels.
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"I have done very little, at least of which I wish to share. Though I speak all the languages of everywhere I've been. From my home of Galt where I was raised by the Calistrians, to Absalom where I have undertaken my studies to become a Pathfinder. These are the two things which make up my being, and there is little else to tell.
"While certainly I could tell you about all the secrets I have learned in Calistria's honor, I will not. And while I could inform you about the secrets I have uncovered for the Diamond Sage, I choose not to.
"So there you have it: I have lived in Galt and Absalom, and I am a Pathfinder. Make of that what you will..."
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Kirin finds the softest, most comfortable spot on the deck of the boat before beginning her tale at the prompt. (Not even considering to lift a finger in the rowing of the boat, unless specifically asked and more than mildly pressured.)
"The short of it. I am a talented Keleshite Princess. My mother had the great fortune of being named a concubine of the prodigious Padishah Emperor around the time of his 23rd wife. She too shares my ‘jinni-blooded’ traits, though she preferred the comforts of the royal house more than the exotic thrill of magical prowess.” She sighs, clearly disappointed in her mother’s lack of dedication to the calling in their blood. She shifts, then continues.
“We Keleshite Princesses are free to choose whatever professions our hearts desire, you know. I often frequented the trade markets, having a natural pension for negotiating fine deals. One day, whilst minding my own business there, I ran into a Pathfinder on his journeys. For some reason - feeling particularly generous one day I guess - I decided to intervene on a deal he was about to make, thus saving him about half of his available gold.. The idiot.” She smiles fondly at the memory.
“In return, he told me all about his adventures and the Society. Not long after that I joined, figuring what better way to both enhance my mastery of sorcery whilst having the opportunity to play a pivotal role in enhancing trade relations with far-away lands - further augmenting the already incomparably prosperous Qadira.” She finishes, boastfully.
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”Who am I? If I had a silver for every…. Well never mind” Prizm gives a thoughtful look at his small feathered companion and after some contemplation he nods.
After a uncomfortable ammount of laughing - seemingly to himself. He begins.
”I was not always as you see me, at one point I was the son of a great faerie – I believe you tall folk tend to refer to our kind as pixies. You see he was a member of what we Fey call the seely court. Let’s just say as his son I got into a heap of trouble. And - without giving away ALLLLL my fun secrets… I was met with a choice due to my actions.”
With a slight sigh and a couple odd smirks Prizm wiggles his small slender fingers and mutters some words: mhaajln syhani
The air around you all stirs and a small form of a pair of creatures that could only be called a pixie’s flutter about. As they dive back and forth one of them appears to confront the other in what appears a very disciplinary fashion.
”I was told because I had a fascination in magic that was not of our kind that I was given a choice… you see my father was a high ranking member of the court… how was he supposed to have a son who was so far from his… image…. I was told that I could give up what I love to do, or I would have to forsake my birthright – and my place amongst my kind to become… well what you see here before you. What he didn’t tell me was that I would be taking my best friend with me… and that my friend would sort of get the.. bad end of the deal.”
The two pixies suddenly become three and then two of them start to glow…. And grow… in a spectacular display of showering color and light they expand. One becomes massive in comparison to what presumably was the father… the other becomes what appears to be…. Bert.
”I lost my home that day, my friends, and my dearest friend became this .. bird. BUT! I gained all of you, the pathfinders, a knack for illusion, and a deep desire for.”
Suddenly Bert goes running around Prizm and buries his small face in the gnomes knapsack looking for food. ”CONFOUND IT BERT! I LOST MY TRAIN OF THOUGHT!!!!”
With a sigh, and a sudden quirky look on his face Prizm makes a grand gesture and the display of faeries and light explodes into a shower of butterflies.
”Enough about my odd story, maybe another time – but for now! Could I take a look at that jewel around your neck Haltani? We gnomes….errr… faeries… pixies… we FEY absolutely love gems, and know a great deal about them!”
The gnome gives a somewhat chaotic smile.