Will you find what you expect in Arcadia, or is this a one-way trip to the legendary Valenhall?
Snowy petrels, pale enough to be almost transparent, follow the wake of venture-captain Calisro Benarry’s three-master, the Glorious Payoff. They glitter against the bright blue sky like shining snowflakes. They're a sure sign that after months on this cramped vessel, you're finally nearing land.
The journey to the mysterious continent of Arcadia, some 4,000 miles West of Avistan, has so far been uneventful. After leaving the Iceferry lodge near the town of Kalsgard, the ship sailed far to the north, following the long chain of craggy, wind-swept islands that connect Arcadia to far-northwestern Avistan.
The big swells that prevail in these latitudes are awe-inspiring — the Grlorious Payoff often seems less like a sturdy schooner and more like a tiny stone tumbling down a mountain made of emerald-green glass and white-marble foam. Cobalt-blue and rose-red icebergs loom in the distance, far to the North near the Crown of the World. While the weather has been fine (barring a few squalls), it has not been a comfortable journey. The air belowdecks is sweltering and humid; up top, it’s freezing and wet. The sailors prefer to sleep wrapped in hammocks on the deck whenever the weather permits. Which isn’t often. No one gets a bath — unless they count salt-water spray from the waves — as often as they'd like.
This journey has taken months. You hope to make landfall soon, and to begin work on your mission: helping the Pathfinder Society found a new lodge in the legendary Ulfen settlement of Valenhall!
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The Sarkorian's unusual tan has faded over the months of sea travel. There has been little chance for the sun to touch his skin--either below decks studying the scrolls and tomes that he can weigh down enough to keep from sliding all over the floor under his hammock or while heavily bundled to stay warm on the decks. When required, he uses his magic and mundane skills to tend to the routine injuries of sailors and the occasional more significant accident.
"I realize that I have probably told everyone on this ship this one hundred times, but I am truly excited for this opportunity to see the land of Arcadia with my own eyes," he says with a fire in his eyes.
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The jaguar that follows Chulyin wherever he goes spends most of his time below decks where it is humid and warmed by the lanterns and body heat of resting sailors. When he does follow the Sarkorian above deck, his jaunt is short except for the occasional day when the spirit strikes him to hunt and chase sea birds that land on the ship.
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Jayma had come to dread the long stretches of time spent on ships merely to reach the place of their next mission. The endless days of staring out at a featureless sea and the constant repetition of the same tiresome chores aboard ship found her regularly examining herself with a mirror for any signs of an early bleaching.
The amenities on Calisro's ship were quite appalling. There was essentially no privacy and little comfort to be had anywhere. Jayma daily gave thanks to Shyka that she'd learned certain spells from her grandmother that allowed her to keep herself clean and warm or she would have gone completely mad long since.
When not otherwise engaged, Jayma usually headed to the forecastle near the bow where the rush of the wind and spray of the bow wave was the most stimulating experience available on board. If you looked forward on most days, you would see a small female gnome dressed in an impressive set of cutting-edge clothing of the latest Absalom fashion gripping the gunwale and looking out at the horizon.
Your eyes would first be drawn to her pixie-cut bright orange hair framing a beautiful, but strangely otherworldly face. They would soon move to take in the multi-colored hooded coat covering a peplum bustier that barely concealed her ample charms. Her leather breeches and boots in coordinating colors completed the outfit. At her belt were two sheathed matching daggers.
Moving unceasingly from one shoulder to another, occasionally diving into Jayma's coat only to quickly emerge elsewhere, would be her white ermine familiar Twyl, with his oddly intelligent eyes.
So it was with some glee that she greeted the huge swells and their effect on Calisro's ship. Not only for thrill of hanging on for dear life as the ship alternately rose up the steep sides of the waves and then plunged headlong into the deep troughs, but also because it signaled the end of their voyage.
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Twyl tended to stay pretty close to his mistress while on board. He'd quickly learned that it was best not to run about the deck by oneself unless one particularly enjoyed having one's tail stepped on. The large cat that came aboard with the strange rough-looking man had been of great concern at first, but over the following days and weeks they'd formed a wary friendship.
When not sleeping or trying to keep his mistress entertained, Twyl would take to the air with his small wings and fly up into the rigging where he would scamper along the spars or climb up and down the stays and shrouds. Occasionally, he would find a rat scurrying about its business or a bird would land nearby, but they didn't seem all that happy to see him and quickly left when he tried to approach and make friends with them.
At first, his mistress would regularly send him up to the crow's nest to scan the horizon while she tagged along with him mentally. He never knew exactly what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she didn't see it very often. Over time, these shared vigils at the top of the mainmast became less and less frequent.
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Fafrd takes to sailing like a fish to water. He clearly has spent a lot of time in ships, and he tells stories about some of the raids that he has been on. "Haven't been this far west before, this should be a lot of fun!"
He spends most of his time on deck, working hard with the sailors, taking on as much work as they need from him. He works the sails, joyfully takes shifts in the crow's nest, and the like. He clearly defers to Venture- Captain Calisro in her captaincy of the ship... far more than he would another Venture-Captain, addressing her as "Captain" over any other titles.
Thought he work has been difficult, and mind-numbingly repetitive, it is clear that Fafrd is in his element.
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At first, the sorcerer and charlatan, Farzin Maaravi, and his yellow-beaked magpie, Papayo, are excited to be aboard the Glorious Payoff.
”We always find ourselves invited on these diplomatic missions, don’t we Payapo? But of course we do.”
In reality, they are happy to be fleeing from the dissatisfied customers who bought Farzin’s wrinkle creams and hair tonics.
”Perhaps this shall be the time, at last, when we meet someone who cannot be charmed by Farzin Maaravi."He smiles broadly at the thought. [b]"Wouldn’t that be an unexpected twist in the grand novelization of our lives?”
”Sure, boss,” squawks Papayo.
Farzin and Papayo mostly spend their time below deck, chatting and trying to upsell lotions and cure-alls.
As the journey goes on and on, and even Farzin grows bored of talking about himself, he becomes more and more restless. The quarters are too cramped, too hot, not enough fresh air or sunlight. Someone keeps walking past his bunk with dirty boots. Everything smells like fish, or worse. His favorite towel and hairbrush go missing.
Unhappy with being unbathed, he takes to his illusions and disguise kit to keep himself looking fresh. But when his supply of lotions and cremes begin to wane, and the humidity finally starts to take its toll on his wigs, he cannot help but lash out at the crew.
”Why are there no hairbrushes on this godforsaken ship!”
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Sun Fire Boom Boom is surely not as responsible with fire as the good captain would like, but also doesn't actually have the ability to generate any of his own fire, so things are generally safe.
Sun Fire Boom Boom does however spend a lot of time singing goblin songs, although by the end of the months long voyage they get grumpier and more repetitive.
"There once was a ship so great
that we sailed upon it all as mates
But the tiresome journey was long
And eventually we ran our of songs
which made us so very irate."
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Ionic handled the months on the ship with nary a strand of beard hair out of place. Sure the tedium even tired him out, but with most of the past century spent on some form of sailing vessel, this trip wasn't anything new to him. He performs some morning stretches on the deck of the ship watching the petrels as they fly about. Digging into his pack he pulls out some rations to share with the birds as he sits down cross legged and starts his daily maintenance of his weapons.
First is the oldest and most important, his clan dagger. The pommel looks to be at least a century and a half old, but the blade has been replaced sometime in the past three decades. The etched rune in it glimmers slightly with magic. Next he pulls out his war axe. Beautifully maintained and oiled, it still is at least a century or so old and seen near constant use over that time.
Next he pulls up his trident, definitely younger than the axe but an old man by human standards. He checks that the points are still sharp with a quick nod and then sets it aside. Finally comes the youngest of the weapons, his warhammer, done in a style that was popular in the Shackles 20 years or so ago. A thorough look over and quick oiling later and it joins the other weapons on his belt. Finally he pulls out a bundle of oil cloth and unties it, unfurling his chainmail he'd kept oiled and sealed from the moist sea air, but seeing as they were about to make landfall he'd have need of it again soon.
He stands up and readjusts his deep brown beard speckled with enough grey and blonde hairs that it could looks salt crusted in some light. He plods over to Jayma at teh forecastle and gives the gnome's hair a very light ruffling. "Morning, Ms. Socialite. Must be borin' for ya here. Wanna play 'noder round o'cards? Got an hour'r so 'til next shift."
Finally, it’s time to put away the cards and songs. A new continent looms on the horizon — at first a dark line, and then a landmass full of snowy pines and rocky beaches. As the ship pulls into the harbor of a Ulfen small settlement, Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen rests against the deck’s railing, a pleased look on his face. He waves you over and begins to sign a few words. “We’re not too far from land now,” interprets Lirall, the gnome standing beside him. “I mentioned your role at the start of the trip, but seeing as we’ve been at sea for months now, I figured it couldn’t hurt to speak of it once more.
“The Pathfinder Society hasn’t had a presence on Arcadia for the entirety of its existence, and now we finally have a chance to change that. Before he left for Valenhall, former Linnorm King Sveinn Blood-Eagle signed an agreement with the Society.” Bjersig produces a document from a scroll case on his hip. “Basically, Blood-Eagle agreed to allow the Society to build a lodge at Valenhall in exchange for our aid in helping him get there in the first place, plus a few other favors.”
“Unfortunately for us, the Society’s preparations to follow Blood-Eagle took a bit longer than anticipated. Now, at last, we’re almost there, and this is where you come in. We have the contract in hand, but we know nothing about Valenhall, save for what the stories and songs say. I want you to get to know the area and determine a suitable location to build our new lodge. It would be helpful if you can get us off on the right foot with the locals in the process. Calisro and I will be taking care of other details like the unloading of personnel and supplies, as well as getting things in order with our building crew. We hope to be ready to go in a few days, which should give you plenty of time to make arrangements on your end. We’re getting close to land now, so if you have any questions, now’s the time to ask them. Otherwise, I’ll let you prepare yourselves for the glory of Valenhall. You can speak with Calisro if you need any supplies.”
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Farzin knows a lot about the legendary Valenhall! Perhaps the Ulfen warriors need a lot of skin cream.
Valenhall, Farzin tells you, is a fabled place where great Ulfen figures travel to live out the rest of their lives in ultimate glory. Most accounts detail a place of glorious battles and revelry, though it’s unclear if Valenhall is a physical place or if it’s more of a metaphorical location equivalent to an Ulfen afterlife. The first person to visit Valenhall was the Linnorm King Ulvass in –473 ar; he set out after hearing a mythical song he referred to as “the call of Valenhall.”
Knowledge about Valenhall itself has been particularly sparse. The only information on Valenhall seems to originate from songs and tales, which makes their validity questionable. This is particularly intriguing as it’s been more than five thousand years since Ulvass’s journey.
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”Any Questions? Oh, and by the way Captain Benarry wants to see you before we debark.
"So, now that we are here, what are we to do. Just get to know the locals?"
"Get to know them. See what they need help with so we get off on the right foot. The end goal of all this is that you will earn the trust of the locals and get a plot of land for us to build a lodge on. Or, several plots to choose from — and I trust your ultimate decision!"
"Do you happen to know what the Society did to help Blood-Eagle reach these shores? I am unfamiliar with the tale."
"Well, we followed him here. The Iceferry Lodge is right across the river from Kalsgard, Blood Eagle's old capital, so we've always been… if not allies, then neighbors, of sorts. We helped solve some troubles in Kalsgard now and then. So, it's a good working relationship we have and one that I hope continues."
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Ionic grumbles some into his beard at hearing the details of the mission again. "Why all de missions where sailin' involved gotta be diplomatic?"
He does take a moment to take in what he can of the area from the boat before shrugging. "Anyding specific we need fromma new lodge site? Minimum size? Central location? Defensibility? View?"
"I have heard that Arcadia is different than Avistan," he says. "Do we know if there has ever been trouble between the indigenous Arcadians and the Ulfen? Granted five thousand years is a long time for most sentient beings, the Ulfen may be considered indigenous now."
"That's a good question. And I don't know the answer. You will have to talk to the locals and find out."
”Do they speak Skald here? Or some other language!”
"Same as in Karlsgard, I would think. Common and Skald."
"Anyding specific we need fromma new lodge site? Minimum size? Central location? Defensibility? View?"
"Ideally, we just need a sizable plot of land in or near Valenhall. We’re not asking for much, and we’re fine with any spot big enough for a building with several large rooms. A view of the ocean would be nice, but I don’t think anyone’s going to make too much of a fuss if they have to deal with a short stroll to the shore.”
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Farzin stumbles onto the foredeck, hands shielding his eyes, as Papayo flutters and lands on his shoulder. Farzin’s robes are in a shamble, he is missing a shoe.
”What is happening. Please tell me this is not a dream. Can the rumors that fell upon my ears true? At long last, have we arrived?”
”We’re here, boss!” squawks Papayo.
Farzin collapses against the starboard beam.
”Oh, how I thought it would never end, this voyage that had become an eternal torment, like a mirror in a Varisian fun house dreaming it has deja vu. Please tell me, O’ Venture-Captain, does the glory of Valenhall include baths? And fine food? By which I mean, food that isn’t pickled, or salted, or dried, or fish? And what is that thing in the sky? It burns.”
”The sun boss!”
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Ionic rolls his eyes at the dramatics of the formerly well-dressed man and huffs into his beard. Some people just can't handle life at sea. At least this was all happening away from the main part of town so everyone there wasn't staring at the man. To take his mind off the shameful display, Ionic steps over to Jayma and Twyl, pulling out a hard boiled egg, something he'd found the little ferret liked, and gives half of it to the familiar.
Bjersig chuckles. I know the feeling! I don't think I can handle life at sea either, not like Ionic. Or the Captain, or Fafrd for that matter. We all have our own unique talents. I am sure they have baths… maybe even hot springs at Vallenhall! And fresh venison, and all the fixings for a good feast. He rubs Makhi's head. Can't wait.
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Jayma brightens up a little at hearing that they would be looking for a site for a new lodge. She'd been part of the crew that had set up the first Pathfinder lodge in Razmiran, and had quite enjoyed being able to put some of her architectural knowledge to work on that mission. She'd been quite proud of the results too. Thinking about that mission invariably brought back memories of Matthild, the halfling servant she could not convince to leave Razmiran with her. Jayma wondered how she was doing. Thoughts of Matthild also brought to mind her good friend Astoria, yet another halfling servant that she'd had to leave behind when she escaped from Brastlewark. She sighs inwardly at the recollections, but puts aside such sad thoughts for another day.
Jayma makes mental notes of the requirements for the new lodge that the Venture-Captain mentioned. She had no plans to ever return to this rather frigid end of the world once this mission was over, but as a Pathfinder, you could never say never for sure. In case she ever returned, a view of the ocean did sound like a good idea.
When Farzin finally appears above deck, Jayma emits a short but delighted laugh at his theatrical overreaction. It is a sound that had not been heard on the ship for many a week. "Ah, Farzin, good to see that your punctuality hasn't improved much on this voyage. Yes indeed, it appears that we've finally arrived."
When Ionic mentions meeting with Calisro, Jayma jumps in excitement. "Yes, dearest Ionic, by all means. Let's talk to the captain immediately. I can't wait to get my feet on solid ground again. Does anyone know of a good restaurant in town? If I so much as see another piece of salted pork again in my life I think I'll scream."
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Twyl had immediately recognized the sturdy-looking hairy fellow with all the weapons when he and his mistress had first come aboard. It had been on a different boat when they'd last seen him, and in a place where the weather was a lot warmer, but it was definitely the same person. He remembered the dwarf sneaking him bits of jerky and other treats from time to time, so he had no qualms about taking the proffered egg and scarfing it down. His mistress also seemed very much at ease in the dwarf's presence, so he knew that there was nothing to be wary about.
The sailors are getting the gangplank ready. Twyl eats his boiled egg. Bennary just happens to be stepping out of her cabin when Ionic makes the suggestion to visit her. Imagine that.
She waves you over. ”Real quick before ye go, I’d love ye to do somethin’ fer me.” She produces a rough map of the northern Arcadian coast. “The charts we had were a touch outta date. ’Tis a miracle we even made it here at all, actually! Might’ve been stuck aboard the Glorious Payoff fer years, trapped in the ice floes. HA! Imagine that! “
”We’re in dire need of better maps of the area, so if ye can get us somethin’ so we’re not sailin’ with information from the Age of Darkness, I would highly appreciate it. I’ll make sure to make it worth yer while.” She grabs her flask and takes a quick sip. “Sorry, it’s just that explorin’ a whole new continent has given me the "excited gutwasps." Ever hear o' those? This tends ta cure 'em.” She holds out the flask. “Ye need a drink? Anyway, as I was sayin’, get me a map of the coast and I’ll make sure yer well-compensated.
Oh, looks like we just docked. Off we go!
Calisto leads the way down the gangplank — slowly — belting out an old tune about Vallenhall, timing her steps with the verse. Many of the sailors join in. The song is about feasting and glory, of course! The feasting part is reminiscent of Bjersig’s words (and Farziin’s wish for good food), and the glory and fighting part might appeal to others.
So glorious we may feast
And fill our bellies to the brim
A’fore we slay the beast
We’ll be sure to have ourselves some mead
That’s sweeter than my love
Drink until we see halls filled
With valkyries above
There’ll be venison and piles of cheese
For all of us to eat
Then we’ll rest up by the hearth
And take in all its heat
We’ll just eat until we can’t no more
And rest like Yrmidar
The bear who slept five winters
Atop his shining star
Oh, yes, they’ll have to close the feast hall
Because of what we’ve done
We’ve eaten more than ten men
Such glory that we’ve won
We’ll rise in the morn’ to fight the beast
But now we’ve had too much
We might as well stay inside
And get ourselves some lunch
And now dinner time has come again
And this time we’ll have boar
Let’s wait to sail tomorrow
So we can eat some more!
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Twyl starts in surprise as the jaguar seemingly appears out of nowhere and leaps over him. He takes to the air and lands on a nearby stay, alternately chittering to himself and squealing at the big cat in admonishment. Despite his every effort, the cat always seemed to find a way to sneak up on him and catch him unawares. It was yet another round of a long game of tit-for-tat that they'd been playing to while away the time on the boat. Twyl was so far behind in the standings that he'd given up counting long ago. He suspected that the few victories he'd achieved over the jaguar had been pity wins to keep him from giving up altogether.
Sun Fire boom Boom’s newest epic leads you down the gangplank, and Twil has a whole new world in which to play hide-and-seek.
You find a "Valenhall" that is far less glorious than the song's claim. This collection of longhouses looks like most other Ulfen harbor towns in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings… only, smaller and more rustic. There is nothing to suggest any kind of realm of neverending glory — and to your despair, nothing that suggests feasting! However, there is plentiful smoked salmon, tundra grass root, and berries.
About the People
Chulyin is able to answer his earlier question with simple observation and a polite question or two (most everyone speaks Common). Some citizens appear to be Ulfen in descent: tall, with pale skin and fairer hair; others have rounder features, darker skin and hair tones, and slightly shorter builds.
Many here are of Mahwek descent, tracing their lineage back to the original groups who aided the Ulfens who landed in Arcadia over five thousand years ago. There are also individuals who appear to possess both Mahwek and Ulfen heritage; these individuals are known as "Valenborn." Everyone seems to get along — at least, as much as can be expected in a small frontier settlement.
Is this actually Valenhall?
Contrary to what your venture-captains believed, this isn't actually Valenhall! No wonder there's no feasting! In fact, the locals are skeptical Valenhall even exists; those who do think it lies beyond the Forest of Trials, which is the forest where all the monsters who constantly attack the village come from. No one who has set out for Valenhall has ever returned. Many think the Port town is cursed — Legends say that Valenhall itself is trying to prevent anyone from knowing more about Port Valen before hearing Valenhall’s song. Supposedly, any attempts to see Valenhall before hearing the call make travel to Valenhall impossible.
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As you walk through the village, several of you think about what you know about Ulfen settlements.
Ionic knows that the Forest of Trials is a real problem. Port Valen is constantly besieged by monsters coming from the West. Warriors of Port Valen who hear the call of Valenhall take the next step in their journey when they follow the path of these monsters back to their source. It is said a lake called Wyrmlake lies beyond the forest and then… terra incognita.
As you walk through the settlement, Ionic points out several weapon racks in predictable locations, as well as small ruts designed to trip up invaders. Fafrd adds to this, noting that Ulfen frequently build deep pits lined with refuse and spikes throughout their settlements serving as traps for invaders. The village is full of useful defensive features.
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"We should visit with the boatmen--it seems they primarily fish the rivers--to see if we can get a start on finding maps of the coast," the primalist says as he scans the port for amicable looking sailors. "Then I would like to speak with the townsfolk about the monster assaults. Since they are Ulfen, mostly, I would expect them all to be part of the defense. But maybe there is a tavern?"
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Jayma had been keeping herself warm while on deck by using her magic, but this approach would not be sustainable once on land. She goes below decks and picks out the most fashionable matching fur-lined long coat, gloves and hat that she can find from Calisro's stores and pays the purser.
Now wrapped in her new outfit, she looks toward Valenhall from the ship's gunwale. She's a little confused. The way Farzin was talking about the place, she almost expected it to be some sort of magical city of golden buildings and streets paved in silver, hidden from mortal eyes by powerful magic. And yet, here it was, just another shoddy-looking settlement like many others she'd seen.
Turning to the others, she says, "Surely this isn't the fabled Valenhall we're looking at here. From Farzin's description I was expecting something a little more grand. Is this the place where we are to site the new lodge, or am I missing something?"
Looking back at the settlement, she adds, "If everyone is ready, I believe now would be a good time to get our land legs back and meet the locals. Perhaps they will have the answers we're looking for."
Once they've spoken with some of the locals, the situation is a little more clear; this was in fact not the fabled Valenhall, but the not-quite-so-fabled Port Valen. "Given the apparent difficulty of reaching the real Vallenhall, I must assume that our new lodge is to be built in Port Valen. Perhaps we should introduce ourselves to the town's leaders and ask for their help in selecting a suitable site. You never know; they might even have some maps they're willing to share with us. If we ask them really nicely, that is."
Jayma then makes inquiries of the nearby locals to try and find out who the town leaders might be and where they can be found. If this information is forthcoming, then Jayma will urge her fellow pathfinders to find them and say hello.
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Ionic follows Jayma to the quarter master and hefts a bag onto the counter with more than a few clinks, before following it up with a few silver pieces. "Saved enough for dose rings we talked 'bout. Also need some furs. Too cold here if ya stop movin'"
He tromps back out on deck with a shiny gold band with a ruby set in it on his left hand and a squared iron one on his left. He's covered his chainmail and out fit in a variety of furs to try keeping himself warm. "Right. Time ta see dis 'legendary' Valenhall."
After the first few steps off the ship, the dwarf goes a little green around his beard, and stops for a moment to breath a few deep breathes. He glances up at everyone and waves them on. "Just get a bit landsick after long trips. Alright? Don't worry 'bout me. Catch up later." It takes a minute or so of breathing and the other half of the hard-boiled egg before he starts moving again, but does catch up to the group.
The first mention of the Forest of Trials, Ionic perks up. "Heard 'bout dere afore. Some man with an Ulfen name and Ulfen-enough look. Never stopped wid de stories about de place. Never knew 'Port Valen' was 'ere, dough.... Actually he mighta been Valenborn, in retrospect. Oh, look, dis fits de description of his home. Said de 'biggest monster the town had seen in three generations' got trapped in dat pit. If he was tellin' true, killed it single handedly. Doubt'e did."
He pauses and turns one way then the next. "Said best tavern in town was 'round here. Been a decade 'r so, can't quite remember. Gettin' a good drink'd be nice."
Since you're near the docks, you follow up on Chulyin's idea to look for a map. The boatmen are not willing to share any maps (good maps are probably one of the most valuable prizes in the village). You may have to acquire maps some other way — through blood or money. Perhaps an opportunity will come up… if you can keep an eye out!
Several of you ask about these monster attacks, intrigued at the idea of combat. It's Sveinn Blood-Eagle himself who makes sure that the monsters who come in from the west are kept at bay. A local mentions that "He won’t be with us much longer though, since he’s preparing to follow the call onward to Valenhall. He’ll be meeting the next wave of monsters from the Forest of Trials and marching on toward the Wyrmlake, far to the west." Along the way Ionic buys his new rings — and a vendor has a precious snack!
An old fisherman in the tavern shrugs your question. “Who's in charge? Depends on who you ask. He sips his ale and thinks.
"Mayor Bloodfang is the town’s leader and in charge of things going on in Port Valen proper. Rahahksenwe is our representative on the Shore Council and helps keep Port Valen interests among the towns of the Scarred Shores. Sveinn Blood-Eagle is the most renowned and respected of the Ulfen warriors here, and he’s currently handling town defenses.
I’d say that each of the three, Mayor Bloodfang, Sveinn BloodEagle, and Rahahksenwe, each have their own key role in the community. Take your pick!"
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"Since it is Blood-Eagle who promised the Society a place to build a lodge, perhaps we should speak to him first. At the very least to find out where he intended--here in Port Valen or in fabled Valenhall itself," Chulyin suggests. "We should also make certain others--less likely to perish in a forest of monsters--are aware and amenable to the agreement."
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Familiar abilities: Flier, and Speech;
Master Abilities: Cantrip Connection: Shield, and Familiar Focus.
Farzin, not wanting to be outdone and certainly wanting a new look after being on the ship for so many months, also decides to buy a cold weather outfit.
He is disappointed however to find the selection is quite picked over, and he must manage with a hodgepodge of furs, and woolens, and basic quilted outerwear, and a hat with ear flaps that are too long, and a scarf that was clearly knit by some child for a school project.
Still, he makes the best of it, trying to tie the ensemble together with a new pendant shaped in the form of an unblinking eye.
"It's all in how you wear it anyway," he says to Papayo, who squawks in agreement.
He agrees with Jayma that he was expecting something grander too.
"But let's not judge the place yet. Externally, I mean. Internally, of course, it's already too late. But who knows, their drinks might be wonderful. There was talk of a tavern, am I right? Chulyin makes a lot of sense, as always. Perhaps Blood-Eagle would meet us for a drink?"
The beer at the tavern is good if a little weak. You’re directed to Sveinn’s feasting hall.
Inside the longhouse, a fire roars. There’s a boar roasting on a spit and cheese and meat spread across a greasy, knife-marked wooden table. Everything smells delicious. There are hunting trophies — fearsome monsters and game alike — hung on the walls.
Sveinn himself stands at the long table, is drinking mead (mead is the drink of Ulfen kings!), and looking over a rough map of the forest.
He looks up and snorts. ”What’s this now? Who’re you lot? Come to join my crusade to Valenhall?”
He recognizes the Wayfinder. ”You sing like a skald, Pathfinder! You cannot help me get to Vallenhall, though. You haven’t heard the Call. I can tell. None may go who haven’t heard the call.”
”And by the way, you Pathfinders are months late, conveniently slinking into my port after we’ve done all the hard labor. And now you want your little lodge. Well, I care nothing for that! He makes a sweeping gesture and roars: "I’m for VALENHALL! Though old, you can see that he’s still an extremely powerful warrior, and it's a fearful display.
He narrows his eyes; not only a consummate warrior but a shrewd politician. ”But perhaps you Pathfinders can help. I won’t truck in petty land deals anymore. Not now. But one of my men could use your help — I think he’s in trouble… or worse. In exchange, I will put in a good word for you before leaving. The endorsement of a legend would do you Pathfinders much good, eh? Perhaps you can leverage that to build your little lodge.”
”Doing this would mean venturing out into the Forest of Trials. If you are brave enough to help, I will tell you more. Of course, I would understand if you are too weak, or too afraid.”
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Ionic gives a small cough from the back of the group. "Had some trouble when gettin' ready ta leave. Has word reached 'ere about de fall of Lastwall? Near complete devastation of de Pathfinders? Can't really send people when almost everyone is dead or undead now dat the Whispering Tyrant is back. Know it looks bad from your view, but wasn't much could be done 'bout it."
He steps forward and gives a hard look back at the man, "Ain't scared of a forest nor the monsters in it. Be glad ta help, if it means fixin' de bridge 'tween us."
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"Building the lodge in Port Valen, then," the Sarkorian acknowledges the indirect answer to his question. "We are brave enough--even Farzin, though he may pretend otherwise--so tell us your man's name and where to find him and we will deal with it. Unless you happen to be willing to share the details."
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Jayma shivers slightly at the sound of the Forest of Trials. Her shudder is not from fear though; it is the frisson of excitement she feels at the thought of getting into some real action after these oh so long months at sea.
She steps forward and puts her hand on Ionic's shoulder. Speaking to Ionic, but in a voice audible to all, she says, "There there, Ionic dearest, no need to get upset. I'm sure that King Sveinn didn't mean to cast any aspersions on our character. He has no idea of the truly terrible adversities we had to face on the long voyage here."
Turning to Sveinn, she says, "King Sveinn, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we'd be delighted - nay, overjoyed - at the prospect of helping your man excape the perils of the Forest of Trials. She shivers slightly again, though in excitement or from the cold, it is hard to tell.
Blood-Eagle laughs grimly. "The Whispering Tyrant's back? Sounds like a fun fight. Too bad I won't be there to chop his bones like kindling. Other heroes will rise up, no doubt, to make him dead again. And may they do the job RIGHT this time."
He turns to Jayma. "Terrible adversities on the journey here? Ulvass and his crew ROWED here when they discovered this place five thousand years ago! Think about that next time you’re napping in a hammock on Bennary’s barge! — it’ll seem like a luxury charter! HA!"
”Anyway, I'm glad you're a brave lot. Here’s the deal: my best scout, a Valenborn man named Tewakam Nekotek, was sent into the forest to scout our way through. Legend says there's a triumvirate of Norns who help guide us Ulfen through, but it doesn't hurt to do some advanced scouting if you ask me. I don't trust Fey. But now my advanced scout — and all his scouting work — has vanished!"
"Find Tewakam. Bring him back if he’s alive and if he's not, bring his reports."
"Do this, and I’ll happily proclaim your heroism to the people of Port Valen.”