The entire party crosses the the sloping valley of the mountain pass. No avalanche is triggered, but as you peer down at the layered snow covering the slope and the plunge below, you realize that a less skilled party would almost certainly have perished here.
Once across the wide valley and mountain pass, you descend into the trees once more. Among the trees, you spot a moving shape. It is a sizable creature covered in thick, brown fur. The four-legged beast plows through the snow.
A picture of the beast is now available on Slides.
As it approaches, you notice an object dangling near the creature's neck. It is a small barrel attached to the animal's neck on a thick, leather collar.
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Earlier, when Lizzo suggests Dr. Lazarus buys the first round. "I'm sure we can work something out. As long as it's at a proper establishment. That serves brandy."
Seeing the dog-like beast, Dr. Lazarus approaches with Isfan, in a non-threatening manner. He thinks back to what he knows of such animals.
Although the canid does not appear to be one that Lizzo has learned much about, Dr. Lazarus and Isfan recognize the creature as a breed of domesticated, working dog. Such beasts have a powerful bite, can move relatively quickly, and have capable noses. The ability of such animals to detect prey or predators via scent and their predilection to accompany humanoids makes them ideal pets. A larger breed, such as this, might even be used as mounts for smaller creatures. Some cultures use dogs as beasts of burden capable of pulling sleds loaded with supplies across the icy tundra. Such dogs are most dangerous in packs.
The beast's rough coat is dense, flat, and more profuse around the neck and legs. Black shading is found on the face and ears. The tail is long and heavy, hanging high. Upon its face are brown eyes framed by naturally tight lids, with haws only slightly visible.
The dog pauses for a moment to sniff the air. As it does, a string of drool drops from its open jaws. The dog then approaches closer, a bright red tongue protruding from its mouth, apparently eager to get a better feel for your scent.
After giving the jerky a sniff, the dog quickly chews it up and releases a grateful bark, before turning and heading out into the snow. He makes several large strides into the deep drifts before stopping and looking back to see if he is being followed.
He releases a few additional barks as encouragement, then continues heading into the snow.
The dog barks, causing the half-orc to look out into the snowy wild and quickly settle his eyes on your location.
"Who are you? he calls out in a gruff voice. "And what are you doing here?"
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Madzork starts scrambling through the snow, following the dog. He falls, face-first, into the snow multiple times.
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The dog leads you to a modest-looking, wooden cabin, which is surrounded by old pear trees. Smoke rises from a crude chimney in the structure. The dog marches up to the front door, smacking it repeatedly with his tail until it is opened. On the other side of the door stands an elderly half-orc, dressed in furs.
The dog barks, causing the half-orc to look out into the snowy wild and quickly settle his eyes on your location.
"Who are you?" he calls out in a gruff voice. "And what are you doing here?"
Jenkins, previously hiding in Madzork's bag, looks out once he hears the half-orc talking. He gets out and takes his usual position on Madzork's head."Hi! I'm Jenkins, and this is Madzork. We're currently trying to find a path through the mountains. We don't mean to disturb you, but I don't suppose there's any assistance or advice you could offer?"
"Your perch appears to be rather cold." grunts the half-orc, noting the marked redness in the goblin's ears. "Come in." he motions to the speaking squirrel. "And bring your perch with you."
Dr. Lazarus steps up, non-threateningly. "Greetings, my good man. I'm Dr. Lazarus. We're pathfinders exploring trade routes." Looking down at the dog, "Your beast was hungry. We gave him some jerky."
"Wilbert is always hungry." replies the half-orc, his tusks and teeth forming into something almost resembling a smile. "But, your attempt to satisfy him is nevertheless appreciated. Please, come in."
Leaving the door wide open, the half-orc nods the goblin toward a blanket lying on the floor before the fireplace. For the rest, he gestures toward a crude set of wooden chairs and a table.
He grabs a pair of small drinking glasses that sit on a set of shelves and supplements them with a few assorted wooden mugs, which he places on the table. Retrieving a small barrel similar to that latched around the neck of the dog, Wilbert, he places a tap in it and pours each of you a shot of a thick, clear liquor.
"My name is Bark, by the way." he says as he distributes a shot of the beverage to each of you. "I've noticed quite an increase of traffic in these parts of late, but you are the first Pathfinders that I have ever met." He grabs one of the mugs of liquid for himself and begins to bring it to his lips, then stops and adds, "A bit of pear schnapps for you all. Home-brewed." He then throws back the mug, finishing its contents with a single gulp.
"Trade routes, eh? Around here?" Bark grunts contemplatively. "If you've made it this far, then you already know that this mountain can be quite dangerous. But, I suspect, what awaits you up ahead might become even more so."
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Lazarus tentatively sips the beverage. "Schnapps you say? Quite good."
"Regarding the trade routes, it's not our intent to disrupt your lifestyle. If something like this would impact you, we could note that in our report." When Bark mentions more dangers, Lazarus raises his eyebrow, "Oh? What kind of dangers?"
"It's not the finest, I'll admit. But, there is not always much sun on this portion of the mountain. And there's not much available in the way of fine spirits in these parts." notes Bark. He begins reaching for any empty containers before him, including his own, and only then asks, "May I offer you another?"
"As for dangers, there's plenty." he continues while making another round of pours. "Weather and avalanches are certainly two of them. More than most can handle. Local wildlife is another, wolves, goats, even the occasional bear. Most won't bother travelers wise enough to give them a wide berth. And, then, there are the orcs."
"They are no more brutal or overbearing than any other orc tribe, I suppose. But, at least until recently, their tribe left this part of the mountain alone. After all, the tribe and I had... an understanding." Bark throws back another shot, before muttering quietly. "Mutually assured destruction.." He gets up again, but instead of collecting drinking vessels, he retrieves the entire keg and places it upon the table.
"Lately, though, they've have been crossing through this territory more often, even hunting and placing traps. Very strange, it is, foregoing this arrangement now after having kept it for all those many years." Bark pours another round for any who wish it, including himself. "While they come and go, they don't make a point of letting me know about it. And I've been unable to make contact with the tribe to find out what’s going on. I suspect a dispute between the individual groups over territory. Perhaps, a disease in one of the camps?"
"If you are looking to bring a trade route through this territory, you'll find no opposition from me. Like I said, the number of spirits available here are too few. I'd welcome a bit of trade." Bark concedes. "But, if you want you truly want to open up a viable route for goods of any value, you'll need to either make a pact with the orcs or drive them off."
"I suspect that the tribe set up one of its smaller scout camps down below the tree-line. It's about a day's travel from here." suggests Bark. "I can offer you directions, if you'd like. As well as four walls and a fire, if you'd like to spend the night. Then, if you are so inclined, you can head down below the tree-line in the morning."
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When Bark offers another round, Lazarus nods, "Why yes, I think I will have another. My thanks."
After Bark talks about the orcs, Lazarus asks "Is this the Shattered Fang tribe? We've been tracking them. But no doubt we'll have more success following your directions in the morning."
Dr. Lazarus is happy to spend the night here.
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As Madzork walks inside, Jenkins mutters to himself, "Huh, I really expected more pushback to the whole "talking squirrel" thing."
He takes a seat by the fire next to Madzork, as well as away from Wilbert, and listens to what Bark is saying. "My gut says we try and negotiate with them rather than trying to drive them off."
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After warming up by the fire Lizzo rejoins the group for the toast. He see’s Isfan pull out the bottle of gin, and nods in agreement.
With a roof over our heads for the night, and a belly full of schnapps, the chittering from Jenkins starts to sink in. It may be possible for a peaceful resolution after all...
After Bark talks about the orcs, Lazarus asks "Is this the Shattered Fang tribe? We've been tracking them. But no doubt we'll have more success following your directions in the morning."
"You have heard of them, then?" Bark nods. "You should know that their reputation for ferocity is well-earned."
As Madzork walks inside, Jenkins mutters to himself, "Huh, I really expected more pushback to the whole "talking squirrel" thing."
A tusked smile forms on Bark's face. "I am a steward of the natural order, Little One." he says in response. "Plants and animals are my allies and I work with them frequently."
"My gut says we try and negotiate with them rather than trying to drive them off."
"The 'gut' of a goblin is reputed to be able to stomach more than most." Bark affirms. "I don't know the best method for dealing with the orcs that most conforms to your purposes, but I know that deal with the orcs, you must if you hope to establish a viable trade route here."
"You are a man after my liiking Bark. Here lets share some of our own spirits too." Isfan takes out the bottle of Gin and offers to fill up the next round.
Bark gladly accepts a pour of the gin, throwing it back quickly. His face makes it evident that he has a strong appreciation of the gin. "Quite good. Quite good." he remarks with the gratitude evident in his voice. "I am truly gracious for your generosity. As I mentioned, I am a steward of the natural order. Please allow me to provide you with the benefit of some of my spells, before you depart, as a token of my thanks."
He holds his empty mug in his hand, clearly hoping to be offered another round or more, but refraining from making any demand, request, or expectation for more. The bottle of gin is half-gone.
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"Thanks for the offer, which we are sure to take you up on in the morning, but for now lets call it a night, we need a clear head tomorrow." Isfan is once more thanks the host for his hospitality and wishes a good night, putting the second half of the gin away.
In the morning he asks out host to cast Longstrider on his companions and himself.
With your fill of spirits and a relatively warm and dry place to lay your bedrolls, you are able to pass the night uneventfully. In the morning, Bark provides you with directions to where he believes the orc camp to be. Between his own preparations and a couple of wands, the old druid manages to cast longstrider on each member of the party.
Staying exposed above the snow line is dangerous, so you press on quickly and soon reach the tree line while descending the mountain. The overall temperature is still low but no longer poses a risk.
Along the path, you spy a tall cliff that reaches above the surrounding trees, which must provide a great view of the surroundings and assist with scouting the terrain.
[url=Map of the cliff now provide on Slides.[/url]
The cliff is 25 feet tall. A growth of hardy bushes line much of the base of the cliff, which you surmise would likely provide some cushion to any fall from the cliff top.