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The weather and near blizzard conditions of the storm, make progress slow, both Jord and Iggy have difficulty keeping up with Grabshanks and Lewdvik. Was it that Jord was being a gentlegoblin and helping Iggy, or was it the other way round. Whatever made them slow, leaves them with icicles hanging from their noses, and snow piled high on their heads. However eventually Gringott's Goblins all arrive at the checkpoint, to see smiling and hearty Ulfen officials wrapped up and huddled round a large camp fire. When you arrive, you see that already the Bluetongue's Brawler and Without Trace or Fail are already some way through making camp, warming themselves and getting ready for the trials.
The officials welcome you and take you straight to the medical tent to check you all over, although their knowledge of goblin physiology is somewhat limited. You are prodded and poked, inspected and measured, before they announce, "No harm done, you are fit to continue to the trials. However we suggest you set up camp before the trials."
As you leave the tent you see Wyrding Wayfinders and Fangs of the Remorhaz have arrived after you, but there is no sign as yet of Two Houses.
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As you make camp, the storm seems to subside, wind drops and the snow fall lessens. Still there are fresh high snow drifts and flakes of snow that carry in the wind.
A small, frigid stream runs between the dense pines, opening onto a frozen pond. To the east, a few small columns of smoke rise above the trees from several small campfires. To the north, a dozen caribou walk along the surface of the ice, snuffling and pawing at the thin grasses poking up from the snowy shoreline. As a race official watches over the small herd, the wind carries the gentle sound of bells.
As you approach the trial area an official stops you, "Ahh Gringott's Goblins, are you all here, good! Well to give you the low down on the trial today the trial hopes to recreate the events surrounding the loss of Balgird’s beloved pack horse. When the steed was lost in a terrible blizzard, Balgird tracked a herd of caribou across the tundra, and watched their behavior from a distance, looking for one that he might be able to tame. The legendary Ulfen spent more than a week trying to get close to the herd, and narrowly escaped death by hundreds of stampeding hooves before he finally managed to sling his saddle bags over the animal’s back and lead his new companion out of the herd and into the taiga."
He takes out a pipe, lighting it he inhales a sweet smoke and lets you take in the significance of the story. He points to the icy lake in front of you, on which you see restless herd of taiga caribou, about 12 in total. You see 4 caribou dotted throughout the herd, that appear to have small bells tied to their antlers.
The official takes another long draw on the pipe, "Now for this trial you have to retrieve a set of the bells without disturbing the caribou. Of course you southerners have probably never seen taiga caribou before, so think of them as a skittish breed of medium sized deer. I'll stay here and watch your progress." he smiles, as though expecting this is going to be fun, before taking another puff on his pipe.
You look over the frozen pond that the herd of caribou walk quite easily about, but it is ice making it uneven and slippery ground, not easy to for normal winter boots of bipedal humanoids to walk on. Ice is never easy. You watch as the caribou wander, not getting any closer to you than 35ft, most even further away.
Caribou
Caribou
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Whilst Iggy goes to help the Without Trace or Fail team, they sneer at his approach. Ostog Oakfeller in the presence of the cleric, Gruen Storval, is especially unpleasant. Although Gruen, calls on the spirits of his ancestors, calls on the blood of the were-bears in his family to descend upon the heathen goblins and leave them as carcasses on red bloody snow. His hated of those that draw on the Ulfen blood and traditions seems unabated. After his tirade the cleric of Gorum, retreats to his tent, calling out loudly the prayers of battle, blood and glory.
Iggy, however seems totally oblivious to the bad blood from Gruen, and pursues his plan to befriend the team that looks on Gringott's Goblins with distain and dislike. Using his slippery quick tongue and a wit that few can withstand, he ingratiates himself with Ostog Oakfeller, his adult son Hjeldr and his adopted daughter Signe. Iggy listens as they talk of their how have trained relentlessly for the race ahead, adopting a strict diet of mostly foraged hard grasses and berries, dried fish, and a lightly fermented mead and are quick to talk about the benefits of it for their stamina and mental fortitude. They explain Gruen feas that the storied
tradition of the race is threatened by the presence of outsiders like the Pathfinder team. Your participation is a sign that the noble days of the Balgirdtrek are gone and it may become nothing more than a curiosity to entice visitors.
Iggy listens to the rangers, feigning sympathy to their fears, the cleric's companions seem to thaw a bit, at least they appear not to be against Gringott's Goblins anymore.
Meanwhile Jord and Lewdvik, look for the caribou with bells. Jord easily spots a bell, but just as he approaches, his feet slip on the ice and he lets out a small noise of distress. The noise startles the skittish beast and it quickly skips out of reach. Jord then falls to the ice, he looks up from his position on the slippery floor, disappointed. He looks back to the shore spotting an official writing on a pad.
Once the caribou settle again, spread out on the ice, Lewdvik spots what he thinks is an antler with bells attached. He moves stealthily forward through the herd towards his target, but as he gets closer Lewdvik sees that on the antler is a sprig of red berry holly, not bells. His jaw drops at his mistake, but as he recovers, he hears a muffled sound of a bell. He turns and quickly makes his way towards a caribou with a muffled bell on his antler. The goblin investigator pulls the bells from the caribou, that stands oblivious to Lewdvik's presence. On the shore an Ulfen official smiles and writes something.
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Both Iggy and Grabshanks do their best to try and approach the already wary caribou, both finding the ice very difficult to navigate. As they make there way out, both tumble over each other and in the commotion the caribou run off and regroup further onto the frozen lake.
The official calls them back, offering the advice if they continue to disrupt the herd they will be disqualified.
Lewdvik however finds evidence that the bells on the horns of his caribou had been muffled with rags, or was it bits or clothing. On careful examination this is the same type of cloth that Without Trace or Fail use for their clothing. Didn't he see them earlier having to patch up their winter cloaks.
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Iggy shakes her head in disappointment, having thought that the other team was too proud of their traditions to disrupt the Trek in this way. Also, if this isn't one of the officials that they talked to before, concerning the pole sabotage, she gives that information as well as the identity of said officials.
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Urgut, the Ulfen official takes the cloth from Lewdvik, looking at the goblin with shock. "By the gods, of course this isn't part of the trial. It's difficult enough without it being SABOTAGED." As Iggy and Lewdvik give information that the cloth comes from the Without Trace or Fail team, the official's face reddens in anger and his nostrils flare. "Leave it with me, have faith that we will ensure it's a fair race." With that the official leaves the Gringott's Goblins to their own devices, have a meal and get to sleep.
The storm subsides as the night goes on and milder air settles over the trees, becoming very still. A fog seems to roll through the trees, as the night progresses.
You awoke during the night. Something disturbed your slumber, but you have no idea what it was. You peek outside your tent very briefly, but see nothing but a fog, hear nothing other than a snowy owl.
You awoke during the night. You heard what sounded like some sort of scuffle some distance away, then it went quiet. You peek outside your tent very briefly, but see nothing but a fog, you hear the sound of a snowy owl calling and other muffled sounds that you can't make out. You remember that the officials have insisted everyone remain in the campsite tonight, it is far to risky for competitors to leave their tents.
You wake the next morning and instead or a freezing cold white out as there was yesterday, today you have difficulty seeing the hand in front of your face, the fog is so thick. As you peer through the fog, you see the shapes of several officials scurrying about the campsite, quite agitated. Tough damped by the fog you overhear several snippets of talk, "Too close?", another "What did this?" and a third, "It's frozen stiff."
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Lewdvik follows one of the officials as she walks and looks at the carcass of a dead caribou from the herd you saw yesterday. The body is mutilated and nearly frozen in the cold air. Fog is suspended in the air, water that freezes into icicles making the branches of trees droop, the occasional 'spumpf' is heard as snow drops from a branch and falls to the ground.
There are large claw marks you deduce came from an animal of immense size and strength, that killed the deer.
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The official turns back startled, "Yes, it's not often we see kills like this so close to the campsite, so close to the trial. We'll increase our patrols around the campsite from now on." She looks back at the caribou, "Damned if I know what happened, maybe some hungry wolves or polecats. Anyway the race resumes soon." She shrugs, turns and walks back to the officials, ready for the start of the race.
The morning passes with the heavy fog staying put, although the temperatures are not so severe, one might even say mild, they might make it above freezing. It seems today will be another difficult day for the race. You all make your way to the race starts and hear the roll call..
You hear Urgut's voice call out...
"Bluetongue's Brawlers!"
then a reply out of the fog... "Ready."
...
"Fangs of Remoraz!"
to the left you hear from the gloom... "We're ready."
...
"Two Houses!"
to the right comes a voice in the fog... "Ready"
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"Wyrdling Wayfinders!"
there is a slight delay before you hear ... "Yes Ready"
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"Gringott's Goblins"
Lewdvik shouts "Yessy Sir, Ready!"
Urgut's voice says loudly, "Then let today's race begin!"
And you are off ....
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Maybe it's because goblins are so small, they seem to be able to look under the fog, or is it their green faces that contrast with the fog. Whatever it is, the group make very good progress, Jord picking up Grabshanks, putting him over his shoulder and marching through the snow. It is with the fog eventually lifting in mid afternoon that the Gringott's Goblins reach their next checkpoint. As the checkpoint comes into view, they see only the Bluetongue Brawlers are already making camp and settling in.
During the day as you travelled through one of the wooded areas, you saw clawed tracks from a large creature that seemed to be headed the same way you are travelling. Stopping to follow the tracks, would have interrupted the good progress you are making, so you leave the tracks and continue with the race.
As Ledvik, Jord, Grabshanks and Iggy make their way to the officials and report in, they notice that the officials are all on edge, nervous, visibly shaken by something. They do seem relieved to see Gringott's Goblins have arrived safely and in one piece, "Good, another team safely through the trek, we've been very worried. Last night one of our patrols was attacked by a large beast, a monster of a beast. They barely escaped with their lives, so we are so happy it hasn't disrupted the race." As usual you are taken to the officials tent to be checked over.
Whilst there Snalluf, a senior official speaks to you, "We normally give this as a recommendation, but this really is a severe warning. Resting outside of the checkpoints may expose you to attack by “the beast”, we recommend that all teams stay close. Especially as the signs in the weather are not good, we expect another storm to start up during the night, which will make it doubly dangerous to be outside the campsite. But even so, there is still plenty of time today to take the trial, which is well protected by patrols."
Having been given the all clear, the official walks with you to the Whitergold River. As you walk over he explains "this trial is particularly important to the Balgirdtrek. After spotting the tarn linnorm, Balgird gave chase to the beast. The linnorm slipped through the trees and made its way across the Whitegold River to evade Balgird. The rushing river was frigid and cold, and as Balgird approached he could see the tarn linnorm lurking in the trees on the other side, waiting to pluck his exhausted body from the shore if he swam across. Balgird felled a tall sapling from the riverside and vaulted across the river with as much of his gear as he could carry, foiling the linnorm and chasing it further into the wild."
As the path opens up before you to the scene of the trial, steam and spray from the Whitegold River hangs in the air. The wet air carries a cold sting. The snow on the trees drips, plopping heavily to the ground and the snow and frost seem to be clinging only in shadowed nooks and slick patches, despite the frigid air.
Race officials prepare fish caught from the banks of the river near the camp. South of the campsite, another official stands near the riverbank. Several long poles lean against a mossy rock. Across the river, the course stretches away from the river and through the thinning trees into the snow-dusted hills beyond.
As you approach the trial area, the official continues, "The Whitegold River is a formidable obstacle and has signaled the end of the Balgirdtrek for many teams in the past. The water is incredibly cold and surges rapidly. Your goal is for each member of your team to cross the river."
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As Lewdvik totters on his pole, swaying above the river, he spies a large furry beast, most likely from the size of it the 'Beastie' the race officials were talking about. The shock and fear the beast instilled in the goblin, forces him to push his bodyweight back to the safe sure. The beastie seeing Lewdvik catch sight of him, bounds into the snow lined trees and disappear from sight.
Grabshanks on the other hand saw the beastie on the otherside of the river, but continued to effortlessly get to vault over to that side.
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Jord, despite hanging in the air over the river, somehow finds the momentum to carry him over.
Once the group are all safely back campside, Ledvik and Grabshanks discuss the beastie, bugbear, bear, yeti are all thing that pass through their minds, as they try to recall anything big and hairy.
You tell the officials and they start to look for more signs of the beastie and to protect the competitors.
The day dawns and once again the changeable weather changes for the worse. The clouds are dark overhead, in fact the day is almost like night, with the added problems of freezing temperatures, winds that blow razor sharp ice cold air in your faces, snow that blankets your vision. As you wait patiently for the start, you are told that currently you and Bluetongues Brawlers are neck and neck in the lead. This, the last day of the Balgirdtrek could see you be the first across the line, just a short trek, before the trail and the final walk to the finish line.
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Talking to the Sigurd one of the male warriors in the Bluetongue Brawlers, Iggy learns some valuable information on how to minimise the effect of the frozen winds when travelling with little or no clothes. Whilst it doesn't seems too useful to his team, who are definitely wrapped up against the cold. There are a couple of useful points, in shielding your eyes from the snow as the wind takes it stinging into your eyes, treading in each others footsteps when trekking and add 'Uncle Jackuf's Whiskey' to your drinks to improve your resolve. With a happy smile and a belly full of 'Uncle Jackuf's Whiskey', you relay this information back to the other Gringott's Goblins.
Despite the advice either the weather conditions or the fatigue really effect your progress. Or was it the roar you heard caught on the wind, the sound of some powerful creature. Was it the shapes you thought you saw through the greyness of the snow as it was carried quickly by on the freezing winds. Despite all that, it is mid-afternoon that you reach the final checkpoint when the weather is abating. The only thing left is the trial before the short trip to the finish line.
Among the tall drifts and dunes of snow and ice, a small hollow reveals signs of life. A large fire pit is encircled by tents and snow shelters as officials stand near the warmth of the blazing fire. Beyond the camp, a large sheet of exposed ice is marked by race banners. In the middle of the ice, a delicate ribbon lies partially frozen in the sheet.
At the checkpoint you are told you are not far from the lead, and stand a good chance of catching the Bluetongue Brawlers if you pick up the pace after the trial. The official continues, "this trial recounts the tale of Balgird’s brave survival on the open ice. While camping in the tundra, Balgird lost some precious equipment to the wind in the night. The following morning, he followed a trail of gear to discover one of his scrolls frozen in the ice. With great care, he moved across the thin sheet to where his scroll lay trapped. Balgird created a lens from a piece of the ice itself, focusing the sunlight on the ice to slowly melt it away from his scroll until he was able to free it."
He takes a breath from the story before continuing, "So to succeed in this trial, one, two or all of you can try. Your goal is to make it across the ice to the center and free the ribbon from the ice without damaging the ribbon. Remember the ribbon is very fragile and the ice is thin. It's up to you how you try to do it?" he smiles a broad smile.
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Iggy has no confidence in her ability to easily move across the ice, so she would like to try crawling to where the ribbon is located, and then using Balgird's method to free it. She imagines that using a torch or such would work, too, but is too aware of the possibilities of catching it on fire. :)
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Lewdvik, carefully crawls over the ice reaching the ribbon, slowly and steadily. When he raises his rock and begins to chisel away around the ribbon, the ice suddenly fractures and the ribbon tears.
Grabshanks, then has a go, once more crawling across the ice with no difficulty, although his stomach gets cold. Once at the ribbon, he too attempts to hack the ice around the ribbon with his dagger, but once again the ice fractures and the ribbon is split.
Iggy, listened more intently to the tale that was told and she too manages to get to the area of the ice with the trapped ribbon, however she looks up to see if there is a sun to provide warmth, but the remnants of the storm remain oppressive over the race, clouds blanking out any warming rays. However Iggy uses her torch to gradually melt the ice around the ribbon, then her hand steadily reaches out ....
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The Ulfen official congratulates Iggy and the team on completing the last of the trials.
"You may not be in first position, but there's no reason you won't be able to catch up if you are quick on this, the final leg and once the points from the trials have been added up too." He points towards a hill to the east, "Its not so far once you have gone over that hill." Smiling he wishes you good luck.
You crest the hill, thinking you have teams ahead of you, the Bluetongue Brawlers and--
--wait?!
As you come down the other side of the hill, a broken sled lies in the snow at the edge of the path beside an old bridge.
And, to the side of the sled, cloth and bits of a banner bearing the mark of-- Bluetongue Brawlers!... hang from branches of the trees to the north of the bridge.
Did something...?
Oh, yes! There--
--Fresh blood marks are clearly visible against the white snow as large, crimson swaths.
Equipment is scattered across the snow and onto the frozen surface of the lake.
Around the broken sled you spot signs of a fight.