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Definitely a city girl at heart, Mara shivers slightly at the description of their new mission. Orcs, snow, weeks camping out in the wilderness...why am I doing this again? She looks over at the rest of the group. Oh right. Because there weren't any other missions available, and I've grown rather fond of these people.
Still, that doesn't mean she's going to rush in unprepared. "How much time do we have before the barge leaves? I think I need to do some shopping."
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The dwarf raises an eyebrow. It is an important for us and she wants now to do some shopping. Will he once understand females?
I think the venture-captain has already do your shopping. Look at the package we've got. That will suit you in the mountains for sure.
For his part to go into the wilderness doesn't worry him.
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The trip up the branch of the Conerica river is uneventful. The roads alongside the river called the Conerica Straights are well‑patrolled by Isger’s army, supported with auxiliary troops from Cheliax. Once the river becomes too narrow for the barge to easily traverse, the party must disembark and continue on foot. Following the river is still the easiest way forward, as it has carved a relatively flat swath of land out of the hills.
After three days of travel, the party spots a campfire just as dusk begins to fall. The river flooding during spring snowmelts has kept the terrain relatively free from large growth. No trees or bushes obscure the view. When approaching the campfire, it is clear that five people have set up camp here. All five are busy with food preparation and setting up the camp for the night. None of them are keeping watch. There are three young men and two young women in the camp. They wear practical outfits, well‑suited for the rough terrain, but the outfits and the gear all look very new.
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Helping Cheliax skirt Drumish tariffs so that Abrogail has more money to brutally crush revolts with wasn't exactly my goal when I became a Pathfinder, Adalan thinks as he hears the mission briefing, but I suppose if we win we'll be forcing them to fund the Society. Maybe increased trade with Molthune will help pull Isger out of the Chelaxian sphere of influence or something and this'll turn out to be good after all.
When the party comes across the campfire, Adalan is in favor of talking to the relatively nonthreatening strangers, though he's willing to avoid them if that's the consensus.
"I has question!" Thorax exclaims as he waves a hand frantically trying to get her attention. He holds up the cold weather outfits. "We keep furs after mission?"
Thorax starts to pull out his shortsword, but when the party starts talking about, well, talking, he sheathes it. "They don't look good at finding paths."
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Mara slaps her forehead. No watch, new gear, camping out in the open... "I think they're tourists." She hisses the last word in the same tone one would use to describe particularly small and disgusting bugs.
Resigned, she starts heading towards the campfire. "Let's talk to them, see if we can save them from themselves." Inwardly she berates herself for not foreseeing this complication.
Cheliax put out a big bounty and weren't specific about who could claim it. Of course there will be a few idiots looking to make some quick coin.
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When you approach the camp, the group does not notice you until the last moment. They are startled, but they calm down quickly when they realise that you aren't here to kill them.
It also quickly becomes apparent that they are all fourth or fifth sons and daughters of Chelaxian noble houses, and they are after the same prize that you are, as a way to prove themselves.
They also introduce themselves:
Jasper Caperinas—As he is the youngest of the five, the others occasionally tease Jasper about his family’s holdings in Absalom, asking him questions about the weather on the islands. He is visibly excited to meet a group of Pathfinders, and he eagerly tells the you that a few of his family members owe their lives to the Pathfinder Society after a group of agents came to their defense when the city was besieged by fiends. He boasts about his swimming skill and shows off a book on identifying footprints.
Sarevi Tilernos—Sarevi wears her family crest prominently displayed as a brooch pinning her cloak together at the shoulder. She appears melancholy, and if asked about it, she explains that this journey for her is an attempt to honor the adventurous spirit of her sister, a Knight of Ozem who was slain when the Whispering Tyrant destroyed the former nation of Lastwall.
Amyas Charthagnion—Amyas Charthagnion is a flamboyant young man with an unruly mop of red hair. He has a calm demeanor that causes the others to naturally defer to him as their de facto leader and an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what is on the minds of any of his companions. Dressed in an expensive greatcoat dyed scarlet and carrying high quality hiking gear, Amyas considers himself a skilled outdoorsman, though he often deflects to conversations about hunting near his family estate or otherwise changes the subject when asked about what expeditions he has participated in.
Leonie Ciucci—Leonie seems to have a dimmer view of the Pathfinder Society than her compatriots. She is stand‑offish and withdrawn. If asked directly about her apparent aversion, she says that she’s heard quite a bit about the Pathfinder Society, very little of it good. She does, however, boast about her skill as a tracker, and shows off her compass and map kit.
Dacian Julistarc—Dacian is arrogant, even by the standards of his noble peers. Cocky and aloof, Dacian leaps at any opportunity to talk about archery and show off his expensive and well‑crafted bow and arrows. Dacian chafes at the fact that his compatriots look up to Amyas rather than to him, but this attitude quickly fades if he’s directly questioned about it since he also respects and instinctively follows Amyas’s lead.
Thorax indulges Leonie Ciucci by showing off his own engraved Wayfinder.
"Pathfinders great! Train everyone how to get along in mountains! Not as good as Goblins, but good enough to not get ambushed! Lots of orcs in these valleys. Stick with us! We show you how not get eaten."
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Bair cautions his allies, "Donna ashume dumfer weak, beonyagahd." He moves up with Mara, club out and down by his side. He glares at the humans as if daring them to attack.
When none do, he takes a deep breath, member wa bosssay, lookfernew allies ererywhere.
"Hey dere folks, yous goddabe carefah upheah, whys dones we givayusomehep."
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"Smelly soft fresh poops, wascha oudda fer da big cridders neah."
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"My gal knows nots, dem ehn't goodens. Here, likadiss."
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"Ya may begood inda lowlands, buddup heah, mush diffrent."
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"OOOH, NICE SHINEY DIRECTIONEYPOINTY THINGY! I GOTS ONE TOO!!!" He pulls out his engraved wayfinder.
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"So derewas dis packa wolfs I was aftah, I taut I was trickin dem into a cornah, but foundout dey was jes huntin me! Almos died."
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Adalan sees no reason to help a gaggle of aristocrats from an infernal empire win prize money that could go to the Pathfinder Society, so he refrains from giving them any advice (not that he's much of a wilderness expert anyway).
Instead, he listens appreciatively to Jasper's boasts and stories, then tells him, "It's always nice to be reminded of how the Society can help people when it's working towards a worthy goal. You know, I bet you could make a good Pathfinder yourself, and it wouldn't even be too hard to get started, what with your family already having holdings in Absalom. You could probably make a name for yourself faster saving cities from fiends than trekking through the mountains."
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Mara tries to ward off a growing headache as it becomes clear just how unprepared these people are. Tourists indeed. They're going to get themselves killed out here.
Seeing that Amyas seems to be the leader of the group, she pulls him aside. "Look, please don't take this the wrong way, but have you ever actually been out in a wilderness that isn't near your estate? Your gear is obviously high quality, but you're missing a lot of things that you would need up in the mountains. You don't have enough food to make the full trek, does anyone know what plants are edible out here, or how to butcher and clean the game you hunt? Are any of you trained in medicine? What will you do if someone slips and breaks their leg?"
"You're camped right out in the open, with a fire that can be seen from miles away, in the middle of orc territory, and you didn't even set a watch. If we'd been an orc patrol instead of Pathfinders, you all would have died." She's a city girl, trekking in the wilderness is hardly her specialty, and she can still hardly fathom how stupid you have to be to not set a watch for your camp.
"I know you want to prove yourselves. I understand that. But...I really don't think you should be out here. I'm not saying that as a rival for the prize money. I'm saying that as someone who genuinely believes that all of you will die if you keep going. So please, please consider turning around. There has to be a way for you to prove yourselves that doesn't require going through miles and miles of uncharted wilderness."
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The dwarf strokes his beard looking at the young noble men and women. If he doesn't say a word, they could die in the wilderness. As a Pathfinder he's thinking he can't let this happen, not without having given a piece of advice. They are Chelaxian, but that's not their fault. They were born on the bad side of the border. Well all considered they had a better life on this side, until now... and Dran'Thor can help them to come forward in this.
When he speaks with Jasper Caperinas, he emphases from the book of the young man. You're right. The footprints can tell you something about the piece you're hunting, or the one which is hunting you... That's the same as in a city policy. You can't act thinking only one way. You have several parameters to take in account. Another one of them is: who does it eat for meal? To know this you can smell and look at their poop. If you need to hunt it you will know where to find it and if it's hunting you, you will learn why...
Nature:
As well when he speaks to Dacian Julistarc: You've got a nice bow. It should be expensive. But don't think it will impress the animals. They don't care about money. They don't have any and don't need any. Your skills are more useful has an expensive bow. Are you skilled? Yes, you must be. Because the wilderness doesn't only mean animals but also plants, traps from hunters, cold, bad weather, and so on. Do you understand?
Nature:
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Amyas listens closely to what Mara has to offer in terms of advice, and Jasper, already favorably disposed towards Pathfinders, hangs on Dran'Thor's every word.
Dacian, on the other hand, is utterly unimpressed.
Amyas nods thoughtfully as Mara makes her impassioned plea, and then sighs ruefully.
"Perhaps you are right, that we are out of our depth. We will head home in the morning. In the meantime, please, take this," he says, handing over a pile of maps and charts. "They are incomplete, but cover much of the territory and indicate likely passes for a sustainable route. Good luck!"
True to his word, in the morning, the group of nobles head home.
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After passing through the foothills, the party arrives at the feet of the mountains. The lower reaches are covered in dense pine forest and traversing the steep terrain becomes increasingly difficult. Your journey is unremarkable until they come across a swift-flowing mountain stream, where the dense forest opens up to a gently sloping clearing, cut across by a zig-zagging brook.
Suddenly there is a cacophonous cawing, as two large flocks of ravens take to the air, with murderous intent!
Bair
Thorax
Dran'Thor
Mara
RS (-, -)
Adalan
Deshacerla
Thorax pulls out his shortsword and picks his teeth with it.
"Dinnertime."
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Mara sighs as the ravens start swooping towards them. "What it is with forest creatures swarming us? What are they hoping to accomplish? Surely there's easier prey in these woods." As she asks these rhetorical questions, she pulls out her shortbow and fires. Not that she expects it to do much, but maybe it will slow them down.
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Bair and Thorax ready actions.
Mara draws and fires her bow, but in her haste, both of her arrows go wide.
Dran'Thor sets off a burst of electricity...
...which engulf one swarm, whilst the other easily dodges it.
Cawing wildly both swarms then move forward!
Thorax slashes with wild abandon, killing countless ravens, whilst the birds fly deftly around Bair's clumsy blow.
They then harry the party!
Adalan
Deshacerla
Bair
Thorax
Dran'Thor
Mara
RS (-5, -12)
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Between them, Bair and Mara annihilate the two swarms, despite the blood streaming from the many small wounds.
Searching the area, you notice that the ravens have collected several shiny items in their remaining nests. Most are worthless, but some of the shiny stones the birds collected are actually raw gemstones!
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Reflex:
Nature to Treat wounds, Natural medicine:
Flat check:
Nature to Treat wounds, Natural medicine:
Healing:
Then he tries to identify the local wildlife.
Survival:
And to identify the local plant life to see if the stream would be a good resting spot for a caravan.
Nature:
Finally, he tries to Find the best place to ford the stream.
Nature:
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Not bleeding, but still pissed about being attacked, Bair chases the last couple birds back to their nests, even climbing up to hack at them. Finally his tunnel vision returns to normal and he looks around, "oooh, shineys." He pockets the lot of them, but isn't smart enough to hide the gems from his allies, pulling them out when they camp later.
From his vantage point in the trees, he takes a long look around for other critters and plants, "Nows we goddadees criddahs cleahed out, dis may be a good campsaght."
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Bair notes that a stream attracts many animals, including predators, but could provide a good resting place for a caravan.
Dran'Thor recalls that pack animals are often not picky eaters and might accidentally ingest poisonous plants; luckily, there do not appear to be any nearby.
In the process, of checking the local plant life, he also identifies a good place to ford the stream!
"Ow OW OW! Stupid appetizers. Why don't you just get eaten?"
With his scratches continuing to bleed, Thorax takes out his healing tools and slaps on some recycled bandages
He then picks up a few of the squashed birds and sets to drawing a rudimentary map using mostly reds and yellows.
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Mara successfully lashes together a crude, but effective, rope bridge.
Over the next few days of travel, the party struggles along - you don't make particularly good time, but you don't think that you have been especially slow, either, as you move out of the mountain forest, cross the tree line, and approach the snow line. Without cover from the trees, the freezing temperatures start to bite, and you are extremely glad for the cold weather gear that you were given.
Eventually, you approach a wide, snow-covered valley that’s a clear pass over the mountain range... if you can avoid setting off an avalanche!
Thorax bobs along with the group. He considers singing to pass the time, but instead decides to chew on some crow.
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Incredibly, despite a few close calls, the party manages to make it up the slope without triggering an avalanche!
Once across the wide valley and mountain pass, the party descends into the trees once more... where your solitude is disturbed by happy barking!
A very large, extremely fluffy dog, with a small barrel tied around his neck, bounds out of the trees, then stops, and looks at the party questioningly.
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With a happy bark, and a madly wagging tail, the dog leads you deeper into the forest.
Eventually, he leads you to a rustic-looking log cabin, surrounded by old pear trees.
A weathered-looking half-orc, leaning casually on a spear, comes out to greet him, and for all the world appears to speak with the dog, before turning to the party, and speaking gruffly:
"Wilbert here says you seemed friendly enough, and he is usually a reasonable judge of character. Come in, and have some peach schnapps! I'm Bark; we don't get that many visitors in these here parts..."
Over a bottle (or two) he chats amiably enough the party, asking where you have been, and why you are here, snorting with barely-suppressed laughter when told of the nobles. Although he clearly prefers his own company, he is also not opposed to having a caravan route pass nearby, as long as he can engage in a little trading, himself.
He warns the party that their journey up ahead might become more dangerous. He has an understanding with the orc tribes in the region. They leave him alone, and he leaves them alone. However, recently they have been crossing through his territory more often, even hunting and placing traps. This is strange. While the local tribes can be as brutal as any other orc tribe, they have kept this arrangement for many years. Bark was unable to contact the tribe to find out what’s going on. He suspects either a dispute between the individual groups over territory, or otherwise a disease in one of the camps. He suggests that, for the caravan route to be safe, the party would need to either make a pact with the orcs or drive them off. To that end, he gives you directions to one of the smaller scout camps in the region.
Bark is more than happy to let the party crash on the floor of the main room in front of the fire for the night, before you head on your way.
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The following morning, following Bark's directions (it will take you most of the day to reach the orc camp), about two hours into your journey, you arrive at the base of a small cliff.