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Throughout the world of Golarion, members of the Pathfinder Society travel and adventure, unearhing long buried secrets of the world's past and rediscovering things long forgotten. Heroes ad scholars to some, graverobbers, trouble-makers, and vigilanties to others, they form an elite brotherhood of adventurers, undertaking missions of great risk and even greater prizes.
Each of you have passed the initial training to be accepted into the Society. Some longer ago than others, but each has to begin somewhere. Tough you all have seperate, and possibly more important allegiences beyond the Society, (some to a deity, some to a political entety, some to themselves, whle others to a central concept), being a Pathfinder necesitates a certain bond, a respect, a trust in each other, though you may have just met.
No matter where, in the wide and uncharted world(s) you may hail from, the Society has many branches. In your distant and varied expeditions, there are times when a trip to the Society's main base calls unto you.
Each of you, in manners you are accustom to, recieve a summons to the Grand Lodge in Absolomn, the near mythical "City at the Center of the World". Putting your affairs in order, you make your way there. A new mission awaits thee.
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Having just arrived in the city, Desgryn attempts to tidy his things and make his way to his appointed destination. Along the way he takes in the sights of the city he had only heard of. Looking for a worthwhile way to spend what is left after purchasing supplies for this journey or even a performer to spend some of the time that he has surplus before arrive at the grand lodge.
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"I wonder if there's anywhere to get a decent bottle of wine in this "City at the Center of the World?" Aleister thinks to himself as he sips a glass of something akin to stale grape juice. "Probably best that I stop after one glass anyway." He chokes down the last few sips and drops a couple of coins on the table and heads toward the Lodge to receive his assignment.
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Grundle trudges through the crowded city streets, as far away from other pedestrians as possible. Certainly, though, it is not far enough away for comfort. His eyes fixed on the street ahead of him as he walks towards the Lodge.
"Watch yer step!" he grumbles at a passerby coming out of a doorway.
He fingers the chain wrapped around his torso, a little more nervous in the city with each step.
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As everyone finally makes it into the Grand Lodge, a clerk asks you name and business, and mentions that a Venture Captain named AMBRUS VALSIN is waiting for each of you to report to hi in his chambers. Once the clerk assures that all of the Pathfinders are accounted for, he eads you to the door, knocks and walks away.
From behind the door way, a brisk, strong mae vice can be heard simply uttering a word. . . "Enter".
As you do, you see a well dressed and profssional man sitting at an ornate desk, busy at work. Without looking up, he motions for you to have a seat.
“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.”
Turning to a small desk tray behind him, "I also have a message for each of you", as he grabs some small scroll cases. He stands, and walks to each of you individually, calling out a name and handing you a case as you indicate which is yours.
The case is small, made of a blue stained leather with birds on the caps. It smells of a scented sea-breeze and contans a single letter as follows:
Friend of Freedom,
Irrisen has an underground resistance movement, known as the Heralds of Summer’s Return, that we want to encourage. One of their agents is deep undercover in the small village you’ll be passing through in the course of your mission. Locate her at the local tavern; she wears a pin of a white eye. Deliver this note discreetly, and whatever you do, don’t expose her in front of anyone. The common folk in Irrisen are too broken down to be trusted.
I trust in your abilities,
Major Colson Maldris
An extremely ornate case, it is made of black polished leather with more than a few spikes and rivets. Etched into the leather are strange runes and glyphs of the Devil-Tongue, and the case has both a sickenly sweet and blasphemous scent to it, but that might just be your imagination. . . Contained within is a single letter, addressed to you reading:
My succulent minion,
This mission to a frozen wilderness sounds so awful that it’s a wonder I didn’t think it up, except for the fact it sounds so incredibly boring. Nevertheless, opportunity presents itself like a harlot. The Irrisen witches have some bizarre magical means of watching their border. Since you’ll be traipsing across it, be a sweet pet and fetch me an example of this magic. I believe it takes the shape of a snow-colored gem. I promise to parade you before my coterie and swell with pride. Well—one of us will, anyway.
Trust me, you want to succeed,
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen
A simple scroll case, with stylized holy symbols to various deities of good and mercy, it contains a simple message:
Champion of the Light,
We were blessed when you joined our ranks, as we are always looking out for more defenders of good. To that end, while there is precious little goodness to be found in Irrisen, we’ve learned of a group who are not only curious, but have the social rank required not be immediately executed for it. The stilyagi are young men and women of high birth, but who eschew conventional tradition. They’re non-conformist and open-minded, and while that doesn’t necessarily make them good, it does suggest fertile ground in which ideas can be planted. If the renegades haven’t gotten to them first, that is. Speak to the goblins in absolute private. You’re just supposed to transport them, but see if they know about any ties between the stilyagi and the violent sects of the Shadow Lodge.
Blessings,
Ollysta Zadrian
Unlike the other natives, your scroll case does not bear a cheap, barbaric paper, but rather a lavish rice sheet, scented with honey, and various spices that make you long for your homeland. Even the ink, designed to be the color of jade makes you remember just how uncivilized these people are at times.
Most Honored One,
Long have I wondered why the rulers of the Lands of Linnorm Kings cannot conceive of another means to combat their hated foes, the witches of Irrisen. It is a country of great wealth, but without means to feed itself, no matter how many slaves it consumes. The dreadful winter wolves cannot subsist on stones, no?
Yet Goka does brisk trade with the witches because they pay handsomely. I would suggest to the Linnorm Kings that if they engaged in fewer raids upon traders from Tian Xia, Tian Xia would have less need to subsidize those losses by selling food to Whitethrone. An audience with Castellan Darkwine is beyond your station, but if an opportunity presents itself, speak to him of these things on my behalf when you are in Trollheim.
Many blessings upon you,
Venture-Captain Amara Li
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In responce to the Chelaxian, "Know that the Society has few friends there. It is a harsh place, ever filled with an unnatural cold, and a dark magics that alter the weather itself. We also know that various inhuman creatures are much more common in those lands".
"I recomend that you prepair for a very cold expedition, monitor what rations you are given, and be prepaired to find shelter at a moments notice. Tomorrow, early, I will have a map and listed instructions, letters of credit and passage to your drop off point, and a bit more. Until then, the Lodge is at your disposal, and Absolom holds any and all forms of entertainment and goods you may require."
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"Goblins!" Grundle spits on the floor of the room. "What the hells could they know that's important. The most them little bastards know is cruelty. I can't promise any live ones if they step a toe out of line." Grundle's look of fury leaves its pall as he turns and leaves the room to wait in the antechamber.
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"These goblins, hold valuable information about our detractors, and it is absolutely important that we have at least half of them alive to interigate and compare their lies, eh stories."
"Tomorrow morn, you shall recieve supplies, maps, and further instructions, and we will put you on a ship for the journey. I'll mention something about surival gear for the lands, but no promises. Are there any other questions?"
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"If there are no more questions", and Mr Ambrus waits to see if there are, "You are dismissed for the night. As I said, the Lodge has quarters for you to stay, if needed, and there are a variety of stores, taverns, libraries, temples, and any other resources you may require. Otherwise, good evening, and god luck with the assignment", as he stands and offers a simple nod.
Know Local:
hunger painful. If they’re not watched, they’ll eat their rations all at once.
Know: Geography:
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Grundle trudges into the antechambers and takes a few breaths. Goblins! Keep them alive?! What the hell am I supposed to do with live one? He shakes his head and continues on out of the Lodge. Well, no money to stay in a comfy inn. Better find a spot that's semi warm and lean back Grundle.
He walks until he finds the nearest place, a sewer grate exuding warm air. He settles down next to it, back to the wall, and settles down for a sleep until the morning. He'll be in a better mood to talk to that Venture Captain in the morning.
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Betoruga, wanders to the Grand Lodge, but not before taking in the sights and sounds of the city.
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Betoruga takes the case and bows in respect, placing the case in an appropriate space in his waist sash. "My thanks."
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After departing the lodge Betoruga shops for a weeks worth of rations. Upon completing this errand he returns to the Grand Lodge, gets a room to meditate, then practices his martial art forms before preparing his gear for the upcoming journey.
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Betoruga, aside from the rations, do you need to buy/sell anything? Or have any questions before we depart?
In the morning, once you are all present and ready to begin the expedition, Ambrus arrives with a stack of papers as well as a bag of supplies. To each of you, he hands a set of documents, instructing you to sign at various places, and explaining that they are letters of credit, authorization for passage, and similar things for each of you on your travels. He hands over a small sack, designed to attach to the belt saying that "It holds some small magic based on the combining the principles of Token magic with the same Azlanti enchantments that power Ion stones and Wayfinders. Each holds a reserve of trail rations, for yourself and one of the prisoners for the journey back, enough only for 4 day's travel."
He next pulls out two maps (see the links below). The first, simply shows your route of travel to the pick-up site, "where you will meet a famous ranger in those parts, one Sverrir Lightfoot and take over handling the Goblins". From there, he hands one of you the other map to take with you, "You will arrive here. The camp is approximately 50 miles north of the Rimeflow River, and 5 Miles West of the Iceflow River. Your mission is to escort the Goblins through these lands, undetected and unmolested south to the small town of Harvet's End. There you can cross the Rimeflow River at it's easiest point and travel south-by-east into the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. We have arranged safe travel through the lands of Freyr Darkwine, a sort of king of Trollheim. His men await you there, to help smuggle you and the Goblins back, though timing is very important. From the time you take the Goblins from Sverrir's rangers, you will have under 4 days to arrive in Trollheim. That leaves little time for sidetreks, deviation from the route, or other things, epecially as the Goblins are likely to slow your travel if not pleased, . . . which they never are."
After a moment to let you examine the maps, he adds, "Once you are in Trollheim, you will link up with Freyr's men, the "Blackravens". Avoid contact with anyone else in the lands if possible, and do not let anyone know the purpose of the Goblin prisoners. The Blackravens, Sverrir's rangers, and yourselves already know, and keep it that way."
Lastly, he hands each of you a set of winter clothing, designed to look like the legendary Ulfen warriors and offers you each luck.
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As the world map shows, you takes you to a Desnan priest, who using powerful magics, teleports you all to a location in Cheliax. There, a rather diabolical looking mage inspects some of your papers, and once satisfied, again sends you on a magical pathway to another location within minutes of leaving the Grand Lodge. Arriving in Varisia, you are greeted by a young servant, who bids you step from the magic circle, and says you are to board a merchant ship within the hour. He takes you to the vessle, which only has a single room for you to share, to travel further north.
Finally arriving at the Bay at Kalsgard, finally in the and of the Linnorm Kings, you are taken to a Ulfen Longship, which navigates you further northwest, along a frozen river than any other boat would have much difficulty being able to travel. A few hours from the sea, the river becoms much more cold, often having patches or blocks of ice on the sides, if not floating beside you. It splits, forming the Rimeflow and Iceflow Rivers, and you know you are close. Having travelled only a fortnight, you finally reach your destination, near Hero's Rest, leave everyone else behind, and travel about half a day west, looking for markers of the camp. Finding them, you let out the signal call, and wait for your meet.
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"Blast these gods-forsaken lands! How can any civilized person abide these frigid temperatures?"Takes another sip of his mulled, hot wine."It was bad enough that I, Prince Arush Imhentep, was forced to sleep in a common room on that ship like a mere servant, but had I known the inhospitable conditions that awaited me in this hellish country, I would have remained in Absalom comfortably ensconced in Nazasha's Bath House among those who at least might be considered to be near equals.
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Betoruga takes in a deep breath and exhales, he is looking very comfortable in this temperatures as he hails from the Crown of the World. “Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts.”Betoruga looks over at Arush. “There is something good in all seeming failures. You are not to see that now. Time will reveal it. Be patient.”
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Having safely arrived, your trek to the meeting place was uneventful, though extremely cold and unpleasant. After giving the signal, a small band of survivalists come out of hiding. They appear to be a mix of rangers and nature priests, used to living in the wilds and enduring the harsh climates. A female steps forward, and identifies herself as Sverrin.
She leads you to their camp, which is particularly invisible amongst the terrain until you are within a few dozen feet. Taking you to a tent, she offers you a hot drink, which seems to be some sort of broth, and says that the prisoners are on the way. "Once we hand them over, we will alert your contact in Trollheim. From then you will have only what is left of today, and three days more to reach that place, (3 1/2 days), before your contact moves on. As I'm sure you have seen, food is scarce, and the goblins are like beasts. They will eat, and eat, and eat, until there is nothing left. When they are hungry, or angry, or otherwise unhappy, which they almost always are, they will make any effort to delay you. Causing problems, constantly falling down, dragging their feet, whatever they can do, they will do.
Avoid fire. They seem to worship it, it seems. That, and the smoke will attract a great many things you have no time for. No horses, no dogs. At the first signs of a winter storm, make a camp. This is important. The cold, the winter is magic here. Do not wait and see. Do not gamble that it may blow over. Stop where you are, and mae a camp as quickly as you can."
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Sverrin says "Well, they are wanted alive, so not really", with a smile. One of the nature priests steps foreward and mentions that "We tried scare tactics at first, hoping that if they where fearful of us, they might move faster. It worked, for a time, but soon their antics started, and they became difficult to herd. I was able to talk to them, and being,. . . nice help, usually. They have rather short attention spans, though, like a child in many ways. So I had to negotiate often. But do not turn your backs on them. Ever. They are apt to steal anything, and will find some way to use it is a weapon when you least expect it."
Sverrin also mentions in regards tot he broth "It's edible, while few things in this land are. It's not particulalrly tasteful, but it is healthy, especially for you who are not used to the colds here. It will help." With a warm smile, the first chink in her armor as of yet, "You are welcome."
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"I hope someone among you can speak whatever passes for a language among these miserable cretins. Personally, I would not lower myself to attempt to 'communicate' with such mindless dogs but I gather it might be necessary, unless we want to put the threat of the lash to them. Which I am entirely in favor of, by the way, and stand ready to administer as necessary."
To himself Arush muses, Sarenrae save me! This swill the wench is trying to poison me with is abominably foul! However...it does take off some of the chill of this horrific wasteland.