Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen sits upright in his chair, waiting until he is certain he has the attention of everyone in attendance. “Thank you all for coming.” he signs, his words interpreted as necessary through Lirall, the gnome sitting
beside him. “I expect your travel to Iceferry was safe, if a bit cold. I am very excited to have you all here for the upcoming event. I expect that you will find it an excellent test of your capabilities, and not one many Pathfinders will be able to
boast of.”
Bjersig draws a small bundle of scrolls and a journal from his bag and lays them on the table, allowing the contents to unfurl and spread across the tabletop. “This handful of documents is all the information the Society has collected on the Balgirdtrek up to this point. I doubt it’s something you’ve heard of unless you’re from the area. It is an overland race some 200 miles long, from Frostgarten in Icemark to Kalsgard, just over the river. It is performed each year, honoring the deeds of Balgird Bluetongue when he slew a tarn linnorm centuries ago, but this year’s race promises to be quite unique.”
“As you may know, the Varki have been the source of quite the commotion among the Ulfen lately, largely in positive ways. Their ranger, Nankou, slew a linnorm some time ago and has been officially recognized as a linnorm king. A new linnorm king is always newsworthy, but a Varki linnorm king is unprecedented. In recognition of Nankou and his diplomatic efforts between the Ulfen and Varki peoples, the officials have decided that the Balgirdtrek will be held in reverse this year. The Varki have always bristled a bit at some of the ideas inherent in the Balgirdtrek. Ulfen have often discussed it as a race from the ‘savage wilderness’ back into the arms of
civilization, not something that has promoted constructive relationships between the two. It’s good that the officials seem to have broadened their horizons.”
“What’s more, there are two new teams joining the race this year. First, Nankou has hand-picked a group of Varki to compete. This is the first time Varki have competed in the race and from what I’ve heard, the Ulfen participants are excited to
see what they bring to the competition. If you haven’t guessed by now, you all are the second new team. I’ve managed to secure your entry with the approval of the race officials. You can thank me later.” Bjersig smiles broadly.
He stands and places a sealed envelope and a small purse on the table. “There you’ll find your entry letter accompanied by my letter of introduction for you. The purse contains a few coins to help you purchase some gear. Once the race is over,
you’ll also be compensated by the Society for your efforts. Expect a hefty bonus if you actually manage to win! There is a sleigh carrying the other teams to the starting area. It will stop here in Iceferry to pick you up in an hour, don’t be late. To be allowed to compete is a great honor, so please remember that you represent the best qualities of the Pathfinder Society at all times. Take notes, learn whatever you can from the other teams. The Balgirdtrek is supposed to be a friendly competition after all. If you have any questions, make them quick, otherwise good luck to you all. I don’t expect you to win, but I hope you’ll at least make a good show of it.”
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A gnome wearing a boots, a fur-lined hat, thick coat and fingerless gloves blows into his hands and rubs them together. He then brushes those fingers through his mustache to get out a few stray ice crystals that embedded themselves there in the cold breeze.
He doesn't appear to carry much for weapons, but he does carry of a variety of flasks and other items.
"G...greetings everyone. My name is R..Rextangalin Wer...izal. You can c..all me Rex. I gotta admit I prefer a warm tavern and a warming drink in my hands to this. If it gets any colder out there I just might pour one of these on myself," he says patting a flask.
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Asketell is a burly Ulfen man dressed in a sturdy leather brigantine with a bearded axe hanging from his belt and a heavy steel plated shield on on his back. He strikes an intimidating figure, with thick arms with big, thick fingered, fat knuckled fists, broad shoulders and a hefty pot belly. His nose has clearly been broken more than once and when he laughs you can see that several of his teeth are also missing from his smile.
"The name is Asketell Bonecauldron. Brewer of fine ales, wrestler of bears, puncher of trolls, knower of all things knowable and unknowable and finder of paths. Among other things. Pleased to meet you all"
Asketell looks down towards Rextangalin with curiosity. "Well met Rex. I have a feeling you might be a fellow practitioner of the alchemical arts. Perhaps if we get some spare time on this race we could compare notes."
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The small goblin with the overlarge helmet perched precariously on his ears smiles with a gap toothed grin. "Hello Hello! Hookie am Hookie of Saranrae, servant of Fire Lady! Hookie am so happy to be here and be helping to win race! Hookie am good at racing! He am coming last in many races! Hooray!" He just looks happy to be here.
"One thing Hookie am not knowing. What am Valki?"
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A halfling wearing distinctive clothes and an impish grin listens intently. His tunic has many layers, alternating red and white stripes of flexible fabric. His boots are styled to look like taloned feet. He takes up two chairs, the second occupied by his feet and a bulging backpack, atop which sits a big eagle.
"Hello, all! I'm Vellir, and this is my friend Haast." Vellir tilts his head as he ponders the assignment. "I'll admit, this sounds like quite the undertaking. I'm handy and happy in the outdoors, but this is a lot in not much time. It should be fun, though, even if we don't have time to savor everything.
"So, are all the other teams representing someone or something? There's us and the Varki, for sure. Do the rest have affiliations we should know about?"
"Can you tell us more about this race ... ?"
“You must complete the course within four days. If you’re any later than that, the officials will send out parties to retrieve you and you’ll be officially disqualified. Please do your best to avoid getting lost out there. Don’t do anything to injure your competitors, though this should of course go without saying. Don’t try to bypass any of the checkpoints, they are there not only for the trials, but to make sure that you and your team are well enough to continue on.
You’re welcome to advance as far as you can in a day, but the officials don’t want anyone traveling after dark. If you find yourself at a checkpoint near sunset, they may ask you to stay. I’d heed their advice. It’s easy enough for
some of the more dangerous things that stalk the tundra to slip by the rangers patrolling the trails under the cover of darkness.”
"... and our competitors?"
"So, are all the other teams representing someone or something? There's us and the Varki, for sure. Do the rest have affiliations we should know about?"
"One thing Hookie am not knowing. What am Valki?"
"The Varki are a semi-nomadic people who make their homes in Icemark. There has been considerable friction between the Varki, who feel that the Ulfen are soft, and the Ulfen, who dismiss the Varki as uncivilized."
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"Aye - the Varki, like we Varisians, are keen to up an' leave if'n we don' like what we're puttin' up with? Ackshully not surprised one of 'em up'n hadn't slew a crikin' Linnorm so feroshussly only until recently - makes ya wonder, ya know!"
Tao arrives fashionably late, and without apology, inserting herself into the lively conversation like a needle haphazardly sewing a patch over a hole of greater surface area than itself: From agreeing with Bjersig via Lirall in response to Hookie's question (which she barely overheard) to now responding directly to Rextangalin with "It's no small feat awl give ye that but fitty miles on account o' excellent horsemanship pullin' a wagon o'er the course of a single day - or even longer - isn't nearly at all far-fetched as in yer makin' it sound..." Realizing that she is comparing apples to oranges, she self-corrects "But this is far north as I've almost ever been, so yeah, takin' yer point now,..." Finally stitching her definitive thought back together "I'm sure they got dogs and sleds though - like yeh says - so splittin' the difference there, no?" Tying off and cutting the thread with a eye-widening glance over at Asketell "I know yer savin' some there fer the whole table now!" She winks at the strange northerner.
Breathing now, an afterthought "Oh yeah I should prolly introduce myself: Tao." And curtsying deeply to convey respect, the half-elf finally takes a seat around the table. It is in this moment that she realizes she is probably underdressed for an Ice Race - Why did I sign up for this!?! - but decides to give the room a break...
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Vellir nods warmly to the newcomer. He grows more attentive as talk turns to the dangers of the Saga Lands, idly twirling a crossbow bolt. "And what stalkers might those be? Witches, perhaps? Will it be any more or less perilous with the reversed course?"
"Sorry, I don't mean to bombard you with those sorts of questions. A bit much to ask while you've probably been scrambling to arrange our entry. I'll save 'em for when we meet the race's organizers."
"So how do they plan on us covering..." Rex does some counting on his fingers. "Fifty miles per day. How many daylight hours should we expect at this time of year? Are we driving a team of dogs pulling sleds?"
Asketell recalls that Bluetongue’s Brawlers won last year. The Brawlers competed the first day of the race in the nude, and afterward all members were treated for frostbite.
Rextangalin recalls differently. He heard the Wyrding Wayfinders won. Faergim crossed the finish line on skis carrying Thosse under her arm and towing the skald and Rikkun in a sled behind her.
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"This isn't going to be a nice little nature walk. Running the Balgirdtrek is not for the weak of body or spirit. It's a warrior's race and I know enough about it to know it's going to be hard, probably harder than anything you've done in your life. Last year's winners all got frost bite.". Asketell takes a long sip out of his flask. "Course, they chose to run the whole race naked. Must of had the icy blood of Baba Yaga herself flowing in their veins to have survived out there like that. I'm sure we'll be racing them this year."
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"Ye thas basically crazy talk but ya know it may be okay fer them what an' havin' had been raised in the frigid snow n'all." Speaking outloud while she thinks of a question for Bjersig Torrsen while they are here, which suddenly dawns: "Captain, - fore we go! - Is magic 'gainst the rules an' such? Er are we free ta compete in the way we sees fit?" Tao stands from her chair at Marra's prodding as she makes this final query.
"[b]"Captain, - fore we go! - Is magic 'gainst the rules an' such? Er are we free ta compete in the way we sees fit?"
"Magic is not against the rules, but harming your opponents is."
"So shall we begin?"
"Please do. Your sleigh awaits."
Two bright, open-topped sleighs wait along the side of the street, adorned with ribbons and cedar boughs. The driver of the second sleigh hops down, waving the group over. He instructs the team to move to the rear of the cart and assists with boarding. Inside, two groups sit, anxious for the sleighs to get moving. At the far end of the cart, several Ulfen rangers
and a cleric glower, sighing before mumbling to one another.
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Scoping the cleric for evidence clueing deity worship:
(Her own earrings ~ left side black-colored and right side white-colored tragicomic masks ~ clue onlookers as to her own affiliation)
If Tao's and this cleric's deity have even a modicum of portfolio overlap (sharing one or more domains with Nethys' Destruction, Knowledge, Magic and Protection), she will attempt to make small talk about auspicious signs relating to that domain. Else, she may remain to herself, unless someone else on her team breaks the ice...
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Asketell let's the dinosaur sniff his hand. "Your dinosaur should be more concerned about us confusing him for food. The Balgirdtrek is a long race and I have heard from my Kellid friends that dinosaurs are good eating."
Asketell introduces himself to the teams on the sleigh. "Glad to make your acquaintance. Have you ever run the Balgirdtrek before? We're members of the Pathfinder team and this will be our first year. Any advice you can give to some first timers?"
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Vellir is open to talking with everyone, but goes for the better-dressed team first. He takes off from Asketell before there's time to answer him. "Oh, and how interesting it sounds, too! I'm an expert at hoofing it, but not at all in colder areas. So I hope you'll forgive me some foibles. Got any tips, good stories from old races?"
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"Well, that's an interesting tale you tell Asketell, but I heard that they Wyrding Wayfinders won the whole shebang last year as Faergim crossed the finish line on skis carrying Thosse under her arm and towing the skald and Rikkun in a sled behind her."
"I suppose if it comes down to it, I'm light enough to carry, assuming I don't have too much drink in my belly."
"Speaking of drink, maybe I should invite some of the other teams to share one."
Rex goes to start talking to whaterver other team he can find.
If Tao's and this cleric's deity have even a modicum of portfolio overlap (sharing one or more domains with Nethys' Destruction, Knowledge, Magic and Protection), she will attempt to make small talk about auspicious signs relating to that domain. Else, she may remain to herself, unless someone else on her team breaks the ice...
Tao does not recognize the cleric's deity. It appears to be obscure, and a few sigils look like they deal with werewolves.
Hookie will talk up a storm, mostly about anything he finds interesting. Right now it's about the cold and snow.
Hookie talks about the snow. The three Ulfen rangers elbow each other, exchanging some mocking glares.
"First time in the snow, eh?"
Asketell introduces himself to the teams on the sleigh. "Glad to make your acquaintance. Have you ever run the Balgirdtrek before? We're members of the Pathfinder team and this will be our first year. Any advice you can give to some first timers?"
"Got any tips, good stories from old races?"
"Yes, here's a tip," one of the rangers volunteers. "Try not to die!"
They laugh heartily at the Pathfinders' expense.
"Well, that's an interesting tale you tell Asketell, but I heard that they Wyrding Wayfinders won the whole shebang last year as Faergim crossed the finish line on skis carrying Thosse under her arm and towing the skald and Rikkun in a sled behind her."
"I suppose if it comes down to it, I'm light enough to carry, assuming I don't have too much drink in my belly."
The other team perks up.
"We're Wyrding Wayfinders."
The aging but well-known champion, Faergim Axebinder, is in your sled with her two squires.
The squires, Thosse (female halfling) and Rikkun (male warrior), are also accompanied by Sassa Ringbreaker (female human), a famed skald currently writing an epic about the life and deeds of Faergim. Faergim plans to surmount most of the trials herself, relying on support from her squires only in the most dire situations.
Sassa pulls out a lute and begins singing a song.
Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a vict'ry trek
That started from this icy port
To honor Balgirdtrek
The champion set out with three friends
The skald's survival poor
Four trekkers set out that day
For a four day tour
"That's enough," Faergim says curtly. "Focus on the task at hand."
Sassa stops immediately, but whispers, "It's all true." as she puts her lute away.
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Tao joins Thosse by quickdrawing her pan flute to provide a sort of punctuation to the skald's notes: With musicality in rapidly distinguishing the key and scale of the lyrical scheme within the first stanza, she anticipates the second, adding a playful flourish betwixt.
When Faergrim scolds the poor halfling, Tao obeys in suit, joining in the mischievity.
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Asketell laughs when the Ulfen's tell him to try not to die. "That's good advice for any day, but it's going to take more than a little snow to kill me! I'm hearty Ulfen stock and I learned to ski before I could walk."
Asketell looks at Rex, then turns to the Wyrding Wayfinders. "Me and the gnome have a little wager going. He says that you were the winners of the race last year, but I recall it being the Bluetongue Brawlers. Would you settle it for us so we can know who has the right of it? We agreed that whoever is right will replicate the Bluetongue's feat of doing the first day of the race naked as the day they were born."
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"Oh, come on now, that was quite the ditty," Vellir says. "And what task is she up to if not shouting your deeds for all to hear? It's a noble calling."
He decides to save any real questions for the organizers. "I'm sure we'll figure it all out. It wouldn't do for you good folk to haul our frozen corpses back."
Faergim laughs out loud at the mention of the Bluetongue Brawlers. "I hope they made them wear clothes this year. Last year they finished last and needed medical attention."
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Having causes a little mischief with Sassa Ringbreaker , Tao looks over at Asketell. Oh dear! He's gone and put his foot in his mouth! That, or, those strange concoctions he brews, carries, and quaffs indiscriminately have begun irreversible inevitable cognitive decline. The half-elf silently decides to take that into account upon future dealings with the deranged ulfen...
Noticing now the sigil on the Warrior's armor marking worship of Cayden Cailean, Tao ventures her own wager - more of a truce, really - in putting forth "Faergim Axebinder, we here (f'aye may such an' presume ta speak fer our Merry Band!), though destined ta compete with ye - an' likely lose not-with-it! - in the name o' the Accidental God hisself, that ar lives be 'Free as the Taps', (er so's they says), Point, unto this'ere Balgirdtrek, With the Finger of His Scorch'd Black Hand!" Raising her eyebrows to doubledot an elated smile in emphasis!
The reference to 'free taps' simply conjures the imagery of freedom as it regards to the choices people are allowed, or ought to be allowed, to make.
The reference of 'pointing with the scorched hand' means, at a base level a direction towards a challenge that allows for learning, while also acknowledging / warning of danger.
Altogether, Tao's intention here is to use religious aphorism to basically wish everyone "good luck"!
Faegrim smiles and lifts a mug out of a custom holster. She shares some information about the first leg of the race, describing the hard-to-locate path.
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"I suspect if they ran the race in the buff their tongues weren't the only things that were blue," Rex chuckles pouring himself a drink
"I used to be a bartender in Absalom until an... opportunity arose that led me to change careers. But maybe one day I'll serve you one of my specialties. But for now, here's a simple drink to keep us warm, may the sun always shine on our paths."
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Asketell reaches over to bump the end of his wineskin with Rex's. "Well said, Rex! Cheers to warm drinks on cold nights!"
Asketell slips his eagle eye elixirs to Marra and Vellir. "You two seem to have the sharpest eyes in the group. This little draught will make those eyes a wee bit sharper. I'll leave it up to your discretion on when you think it best to drink it; but let me warn you that its power will fade by morning and its not the kind of liquor that one drinks for pleasure."
The starting area cleared for the Balgirdtrek in Kalsgard is bustling with activity. Merchants and traders hoping to support the race have set up stalls and carts to sell supplies and equipment to the teams. The Pathfinders and the other competitors are greeted by cheers and applause as the sleighs pull up to the starting area. As each team disembarks from the sleigh, they are introduced to the crowd by the drivers of the sleighs. The driver of the sleigh asks the Pathfinders for the name of their team.
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Vellir raises the vial Asketell offered him in a toasting gesture. "Thanks! Here's hoping I can put it to good use. Haast would be disappointed otherwise." He jerks his head at his eagle, who is perched idly on one shoulder.
When asked about a team name, the halfling lets out a noise that would make one think he was punched in the gut. "Ugh. I didn't even think of that! My friends always said I was awful with this sort of thing, but I'll float some ideas. How about...the Society's Sledmasters?"
"No, that really isn't good. We aren't even sledding! At least it's alliterative, that seems like a must."
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When the sled stops Marra wakes up and stretches.
"Always sleep when you can. Trouble doesn't always accommodate our schedules."
As she views the surroundings she responds to the question about the team name.
"We want to make a good impression. When we win do we want toasts to be for the Pathfinders or for the Chudley Cannons or somesuch. Make it alliterative if you wish but the Pathfinders will win this."
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"Well, we don't want to be known as the No Names, or something like that. Society's Sledmaster's is a bit on the nose but I have no qualms with it. The Sledmaster's we will be!"
"Always sleep when you can. Trouble doesn't always accommodate our schedules."
"My family has a saying similar to that too. Except I think we say drinking instead of sleeping. But basically it's the same."
"The Society Sledmasters!" the driver announces.
A smattering of polite applause is heard, far less than the other teams.
One of the race officials asks if you have any questions about the rules.
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Vellir chuckles. "Oh, no! Now we have to try extra hard to win - I need Mr. Torrsen to overlook the name by burying it under a good mission report."
As Asketell said, the halfling has good eyes. He thusly decides to watch another team, asking the others to relay a question he thought of. "What happens if we get injured or move incredibly slow? Do the trail rangers step in?"
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Tao, thoroughly underdressed herself, moves to last-minute barter for Winter Clothes. Prior to doing so, she scans her teammates' wardrobes, noting that not a single one (!) of her teammates is sufficiently garbed , and so pivots to instead utilize some of the coins from the purse Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen supplied to outfit the "Society Sledmasters" properly for the Balgirdtrek.
Scolding "Y'all fittin' ta end up wit' frostbite like them... wassit ye called 'em Bluetongue Bawlers?... ain't even bein' what half an ulfen yerselves..." To the group, singling out one now "'Cept you Asketell, I didn't get ya nuthin ha ha!" And back to the whole group "Lucky is what y'all be, what with me watchin' out fer yeh! Worse'n my lil' brother, the lot of you!" She hands Hookie, Marra, Rextanglin, and Vellir all small-sized heavy warm garments, freshly bartered - noticing for the first time now the compactness of their team "Yer Welcome!"