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Each of you was sent a missive from Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen.
Pathfinders,
I am requesting your presence at my Lodge in Iceferry, Kalsgard. You will have time to purchase the appropriate supplies upon arrival, but be mentally prepared for a long overland trek, in conditions you may not be used to. I apologize for the sudden and vague nature of this assignment, but I am occupied with other aspects of it at the moment. Rest assured your questions will be answered before you embark on the mission proper.
Explore, Report, Cooperate,
Bjersig Torrsen
You now stand in the Lodge in question. A gnome with deep blue hair stands before you, passively blocking a door. She has introduced herself as Lirall. "The VC should be out in but a moment. Last few bits of preparation falling into place, you see. Is everyone accounted for?"
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Shortly after the sixth member of your group arrives, the door opens to reveal Bjersig Torrsen, a lithe half-orc. He is accompanied by a husky with the Glyph of the Open Road stamped onto its harness. He nods in greeting and launches into a long string of hand signs. For those who aren't acquainted with the cant, Lirall watches and translates into Taldane.
"Thank you all for coming. 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 nomads have been the source of quite the commotion among the Ulfen lately, largely in positive ways. A ranger of theirs, 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." The half-orc pauses for a moment, giving you a meaningful look. "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."
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."
Venture-Captain Torrsen leans back, looking quite relaxed as much of his burden has transferred itself to your shoulders. "Any questions?" Lirall chips in.
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"Actually, Is it a foot race? Katerina adds, getting knocked out of her shock at being suggested for a race of all things. "Can you give us more information about the race in general? And thinking about it, this is the Land of the Linnorm Kings.... what's the waether normally like around here this time of year?"
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Zarina looks a bit disappointed. "So, we're running, not swimming? she asked. If it was swimming, I'm a natural .... running .. not so much.
She then looked over to Katerina and adds with a grin. Cold I bet ... still ... sharing body heat is always a good way to keep warm
She also asks Lirall how long it would take to learn those hand signs Be useful to communicate underwater with those
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After a rapid-fire exchange between gnome and half-orc, Liralla replies with Bjersig's answers.
To Thulgrun: "There isn't exactly a beaten path, especially considering the race is backwards this time. It's overland, so you'll have to follow the leader, or find the best route if you're in that enviable position. As for the dangers, the weather and terrain will be your greatest foe. Temperatures and snowbanks can shift quickly. There is always the chance of wild animals, too, but there will be official rangers warding them away from the racers."
Katerina's response takes a few seconds longer to formulate. "You'll be given a sled, but that's mainly for hauling supplies. You wouldn't be able to ride it any worthwhile distance. Skis are also provided. The weather is treacherous and fickle; expect a snowstorms and fog. As for how the race is run...hmm. Each leg is 50 miles, to be completed in about a day. You'll be stopped at checkpoints and expected to stay the night. Taken good care of, I might add. There are also trials at each one, which vary every year. Most are tests of physical prowess."
"And I would advise against swimming, Zarina. Not even if you see a time-saving opportunity in it. The waters may not look like ice, but they might as well be."
The gnome beams as Zarisha expresses interest in the Pathfinder hand signals. "These hand signals aren't too hard to pick up. Takes some time, I'll admit. But nearly every Lodge has an agent trained in 'em. As good a covert chat as you can get without magic."
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Zarina frowns at the advice against swimming There must be a spell that druids can use to protect themselves from cold. There must be. Something to check up on when I get back to Absalom. Still, I bet it would be cool to swim under ice. But yeah, me staying dry for a week? I'll go stir crazy
She looks over to Lirall Well, if there's time after this race, maybe you could teach me the more common ones please
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Liralla jumps a little at the sudden appearance, but is translating even before she recovers. "You agents have been picked to run the Balgirdtrek, a 200-mile yearly race held to honor one of the first Linnorm Kings. It won't be easy, but it's also quite the friendly competition - you don't need to push beyond your limits if it means victory."
In answer to Thulgrun and to elaborate for Dardax, she continues. "I would expect heavy snowfall, and some fog could be kicked up in the wake of that. The terrain should be fairly even. So if you see something looking primed to collapse, a potential landslide or thin ice, just find a way around it. As for local fauna - wolves, bears, perhaps some trolls? If you think you see a drake, just try to get away. And remember, officials will be doing their best to keep your path safe. Focus on pushing along!"
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A holler can be heard from outside, despite Bjersig’s office being close to the Lodge’s center. ”That’ll be your sleigh,” Liralla says without need for a prompt, alerting the Venture-Captain as well. ”They send them to each team, every year, to pick ‘em up. You can chat with the others on the way there! And maybe wait on buying supplies until you’ve reached Icemark - you could spy out what the veterans are after and follow suit.” The gnome escorts you out while the half-orc nods and waves. The husky barks out a goodbye.
Outside are two massive sleighs, and you are ushered into the second one. Inside you are welcomed with friendly voices. A human man and woman, another human shrouded in a cloak, and a half-orc male make up the Fangs of the Remorhaz, the Varki representatives. ”I’m glad we’re not the only newcomers this year,” says the cloaked human, who has introduced themselves as Frostleaf. ”I’ll admit, I’m a bit nervous. All the other teams are so established. But this isn’t about winning, I need to remind myself of that every so often. Although it would look pretty good…”
The second team in your sleigh consists of two Ulfen couples. They seem like they couldn’t care less about your presence. But shortly into the ride, one man’s wife nudges him and says something, causing him to rush over. ”I didn’t realize it was you! I just thought they sent some random people,” he gushes. He seems focused on Thulgrun and Zarina. ”My name’s Leif. You don’t know me, but you did right by my grandfather. Hlavard Grenskuldr was a great man, and he deserved the funeral rites you allowed him to have.” From then on, the Two Houses team gladly answers any questions you have and makes friendly conversation.
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In response to Frostleaf, Thulgrun bows, and says, "Agreed. It is about the competition, and about doing your best. One must always strive to be the best that they can."
To Leif, again, he bows. "It was my honor to recover the remains of Hlavard Grenskuldr, and the Gorget. Undoubtably a great man, who pushed himself and his crew to their limits. It is a pleasure meeting you.
"Is this your first race?"
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(to Frostleaf) You too huh? I've never done anything like this before ... I'll be happy just to finish. I'm more used to much warmer places
(to Leif) It was my honour as well ... plus, I admit, it was actually fun. Although I do appreciate the ... erm ... respectfulness that your ancestor deserved. Ancestors are also revered where I come from. She then relates the story of the recovery, how she had to dive down underwater to prise open the jaws of the slain serpent to retrieve the body trapped between them, and how her companions had to fight off the other serpents that attacked.
Soooo ... our Vee Cee said something about trials. Is there any more you can tell us about those? And the traditions and history of this ... Balgirdtrek?
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Ur, Duma, and Thulgrun have heard somewhere or other about the previous year's winner. Perhaps the tone in which they're talked about gives away their good odds of victory? Without Trace or Fail is led by Ostog Oakfeller, and also sports his son Hjeldr, his adopted daughter Signe, and a priest named Gruen. They saved an injured race official during a complete whiteout of a storm, and still crossed the finish line hours before anyone else. Gruen often boasts of his family's lycanthrope heritage, but has ruefully admitted he doesn't possess the 'gift.' One less thing to worry about.
Frostleaf chuckles in agreement with Ur, then keeps at it after Duma's suggestion. "We'll help you if we see you buried in a snowbank! I hope that goes both ways. But until then, we should all do our best while relying only on our own. That's how to prove we belong."
"Oh, this isn't our first race. Nor will it be our last!" Leif beckons over his wife Unn, and the other two men, Steen and Oluf. "We've been at each one for the last five years. More of an anniversary activity than old Balgird might have expected. We won...what, four years ago?"
"Yes, and we haven't done nearly as well since! But we're having fun despite being nearly frozen solid." Steen grins as he takes over. "The trials...they're different each time. Each one gets a silly parallel tied to something a Linnorm King has done, and how the test imitates that. I can tell you they don't repeat any from the year before. And last year had a lot of math puzzles instead of rope climbs, to celebrate some brainy King. Not very well received.
"As for a history lesson...I think it's ten more miles, from Iceferry to Icemark? Not nearly enough time. Rest assured, we'll all get the same spiel before they send us off!"
The Two Houses members aren't quite as friendly to Katerina as Thulgrun and Zarina, but aren't rude by any measure. "Six teams, now. The other three are in the first sleigh. It was arranged by last year's finishing order, with us in last. There's the Fangs here, us, the Wyrding Wayfinders, the Bluetongue's Brawlers, and Without Trace or Fail, the winners. You'll get the chance to meet 'em soon enough. Oh, plus you all. Wonder if they'll want you to have a team name?"
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"Well, I think the Brigade has some character to it," Leif says, betraying the two who have helped his family so. "That is, just calling yourselves the Society doesn't. Everyone's heard it before, makes for an even duller cheer. You'll want something to get the blood pumping!"
As promised, the ride doesn't take much longer. You exit the sleigh and see the first three teams leaving their own. Four burly folk, two men and two women, make up the Bluetongue's Brawlers. They flex prodigious muscles for the now-gathering crowd, to applause and laughter.
The Wyrding Wayfinders team looks like it has but one member. Faergim Axebinder is a massive woman putting any one Brawler to shame, and she smiles at the assembled Ulfen. Her three teammates, a halfling couple and a much smaller human woman, look more like her entourage or tag-alongs than anything. Even on the short ride, you've heard the Fangs speak in awe of her.
Without Trace or Fail looks the most unassuming of all, with the burly father, his son and daughter, and Gruen the priest. They don't look like the type to win this sort of competition, but you know better. Within a few minutes, some members of each team start heading out to purchase supplies. Many stalls have been set up with heavily advertised discounts on essentials. Many of the racers, however, are sticking around. None are ogling you, but they look to have varying degrees of interest in you.
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"Thulgrun's words deflate Ur, but Leif's suggestion reflates him. [b]"Ok. I have more ideas: Ur-Mandr and the Society, Ur-Mandr and Friends, The Super Friends, The Friends of the Super Awesome Society." Then he dramatically takes in a breath. "The Super Friends of the Most Awesome Pathfinder Society"
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"The Unexpected,"Katerina finally says as she listens to Ur-Mandr puff himself up like a Taldan noble. "It describes our involvement rather concisely, and gives people something to talk about as well. After all, If we win, it would be...," as she leaves the idea floating in the air.
Getting to the race start, gets Katerina's mind moving. She gathers the others together and quietly asks "Okay, We've been sorta thrown to the wolves here, so we need to start thinking as a pack. Is there anything that you all can think off that would be valuable? Information, extra food to bribe animals, a 10 foot pole: Anything. Just problem solve with me here. "
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Duma is taking all this in.
"Very good ideas, Ur, but I have to agree with the simplicity of 'The Unexpected'. That gets my vote."
"Extra food and a pole certainly wouldn't hurt. Maybe we should buy an extra repair kit in case a ski breaks or something. I wonder if one of the other groups would reveal any pitfalls to avoid or settlements to be wary in. Someone else might be better at talking than myself..."
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”As it happens, I am good at fixing things, and fixing people. ” says Thulgrun. ”If you younglings want to disrespect The Society then go with whatever name pleases you.”
”Perhaps extra clothes, in case ours get wet. Extra rope can’t hurt, either.”
He tries to pay attention to what the more experienced teams, especially Without Trace or Fail, since he appreciates a family working together. ”I assume that Without Trace means not leaving your trash wherever you go, and hopefully not without you son?”
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Faergim's human companion approaches Katerina as if she heard her quiet musings from an obscene distance away. "Wouldn't do to have you fellow tellers of tales freeze out there. All those items sound good, not hard to find either. But you'd also do well with a tent, a hatchet, plenty of rope, a medical kit, a repair kit...basic necessities here and everywhere else." With that, she walks off to do some shopping of her own.
"We try not to leave anything where it doesn't belong. It's important around here," Ostog replies to Thulgrun. He sounds a bit terse. "Nor do we have much trash in the first place. Only one way to train for this race, the traditional way. A diet of the best local grasses and some fish doesn't leave much wasted food."
"And don't forget the home-brewed mead! Leaves our bodies and minds even better honed than before. In case we needed another way to leave everyone else in our wake," his son Hjeldr chips in. The elder Oakfeller nudges him hard, as if trying to shut him up, but not in an urgent 'you'll reveal all our secrets' way. "There isn't much time before we leave. Best to spend as much of it as possible readying."
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"Thulgrun speaks truth in regards to supplies. We must be prepared th brave the elements as well as the terrain or any other surprises that we may encounter." Dardax adds to the conversation.
"I am decent in the wild and with healing and have a strong back and arms if need be. And can be quite charming if the situation is right. But that is the extent of my skills in this area of expertise. Is there someone amongst us that is good with flora and fauna?"
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To Hjeldr, he says, "Some good mead would go a long way to make it a better trip."
"I also have an extra medical kit, as well as expanded healer's tools. Picking up some tents would be a good idea. Maybe more than one hatchet, depending on how our coin holds out. We don't need the extra medical kit, but I don't know who has repair kits other than myself."
Thulgrun will go with Duma, to make sure we get what we can.
"Maybe a ladder will be of use, if we have a sled to carry things. Never know... like crossing ice, you could use it to distribute weight."
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As you deliberate between shopping trips, a race official hastens to your side. "Looks as if preparations are going well," she says. "Excellent. Have you come up with a team name? My associates had a few suggestions. They weren't kind, but you could spin them to your favor...? Best not to spare the effort, I suppose. Stuff like the Tooth-Chatter Society, Pathfinder Pups, Second to None but Last."
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"The Unexpected Pathfinders. Excellent," the supervisor says again, before hurrying off. "I'll notify the others. Do your best, but nothing more - stay safe out there!"
As your preparations are wrapping up, the two women of the Bluetongue's Brawlers step closer. They introduce themselves as Jori and Sigrun. "Good luck out there. But if you want more than that, why don't we join up our teams? We can carry you all on our shoulders, while you watch out for trouble and snowdrifts." They make sure to clap everyone's back before returning to their team, laughing uproariously.
Soon enough, the time comes when all six teams are gathered at the course's start. The weather is clear, at least for now. An official reads from a scroll in lieu of a flag. "The heads of the tarn linnorm are their own creatures. If one is stubborn, the beast becomes indecisive and will likely die. Those tarns that survive are those that work together." Several other competitors roll their eyes - this must be a yearly tradition.
And with that, the race is off! If anyone looks to the Brawlers, they grin and shake their heads, just to confirm they were joking.