GM Mike's Tarnbreaker's Trail (Inactive)

Game Master Michael Hallet

Please dot and delete. We will get started when everyone has checked in.

A young half elven woman in leather armor leaves the grand lodge. She is wearing a distinctive cloak in green and brown with an embroidered owl and lizard on the back. Well maybe it's an owl and a cat. No it's definitely a lizard...probably.

She is closely followed by a snowy owl.

"Wow this is crazy Silence. We only just now got back to Absalom and we have to leave again on another mission. We have just enough time to head back to our room at Mrs. Mullinax's house to get a change of clothes and some more arrows before our ship leaves."

The snowy owl angrily flaps his wings.

"Screech!"

Meadow sighs.

"Okay fine we should have time to find that nice lady with the noodle cart and get you some of that tien barbeque that you like but we'll have to hurry."

((Is this the elf who had to stand on a table and recite an ode to her owl in Seedy's Place?))

The second Pathfinder to arrive is a blue skinned goblin

Hi. I'm Reeta - and I'm pleased to meet ya
I don't do fire, it's cold I prefer.
Nor am I an alchemist .... I'm a sorrrr cerrrrr rer

Yes, she turned her introduction into a goblin song.

A mottled red kobold dressed up in rather haphazardly thrown together breastplate carrying a far too large for someone of his stature sword approaches the group. He shouts at a rather pudgy goblin far off that looks to be joining another group "Me gonna get to place before you Flikk-flikk! We win race we will!"

Walking up to the others he snorts at the 'horrible' goblin song producing a small gout of flame. "Gobby Gob singing is strange-words. Me much like kobold digging chant. Am Jei'balt Master Adventurer! Slayer of nasty grabby crabbies and mean horsy-mens! Well.. Thrass did mean horsy-men in but ME Help!" He postulates and puffs his chest proudly in an attempt to impress the others with his strength and bravery.

An elf enters the room, poring over his tome. He glances up and greets everyone. "Hello there, everyone. The name's Erevan. Erevan Dalanthan. I'm sort of busy at the moment so if you'll excuse me while I finalize my formulas before our briefing." He then goes back to his formula book with deep enthusiasm.

The PCs arrive at the lodge in Iceferry where they are met by Venture Captain Bjersig Torrsen, his friendly dog Mahki, and the gnomish Pathfinder Lirall.

Bjersig Torrsen greets the PCs, offering them a place by the fire as he removes his thick gloves. Lirall sits beside Bjersig as Mahki turns happily through the group before settling in front of the hearth, ears still perked and tail wagging across the rug.

Bjersig is a self-assured half-orc, dressed in a thick wool tunic, hide pants and furred boots. He speaks occasionally but primarily signs, punctuating some words with particular expression in his face and emphasis with his hands. Lirall, the gnome, steps in to interpret the signs for the PCs. Bjersig has worked exhaustively to develop a variant of Pathfinder sign language that communicates more information than the basic commands of the existing system and has incorporated a number of new signs, as well as a distinct grammatical structure and syntax borrowed from a lingua franca spoken between some early Varki and Ulfen traders, creating a sort of pidgin. Bjersig prefers this method of communication and has helped some of his neighbors learn the particulars of it, but Lirall remains on hand for those unfamiliar with it.

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.”

Reeta picks up the information and quickly goes through it. She also understands sign language but looks slightly confused at some of the more unusual variants the Venture Captain uses.

So she signs back, not wanting to go through the interpreter, basically asking if, after the race, she could learn some of those variants, especially those she can adapt for underwater communication.

Incidentally there is something about Reeta. She seems 'prettier' than the average goblin.

Earlier:

Separating herself from the shadows of the back wall is a lean half-elf with dark gray skin and black everywhere else. She tosses an amused half-smile at the motley crew assembled here, her white teeth flashing against her dark skin. "Reeta, Jei'balt, Erevan, Meadow, and Silence. I'm Nal. Apparently I like sticking out like a sore, frozen thumb, since I keep signing up for missions in cold, snowy places. All the stealth in the world won't make black blend in with white. Heh." She chuckles sardonically.

And back to the present:

Gliding like a living shadow, Nal sidles up beside Reeta to look over the documents.

Society to Recall Knowledge, trained +4: What does she know about this race, the Ulfen, and the Varki?

Nature to Recall Knowledge, trained +7: What does she know about the race's route? (Wildlife, landscape, etc.)

Nal has a pup tent that she can share with someone.

Jei'Balt shivered a bit, but continued to breath small gouts of flame to try and keep himself more warm. "Me not know it be so cold here." He huddles dangerously close to the fire almost putting his hands completely in the flame, he didn't seem to be bothered by the fire licking at his hands however.
"Where get warm fluffy clothes, how we be racing foot or with horsie wagon? Usual dangers on Balgirdle trek need be prepared for scary animals...." There is a faint pause before he almost yells out, "Not that Jei'balt scared of anything! But me no want get snip-snapped by angry crabs again."

Just to be clear his atrocious speech and pronunciation is just part of him.

((Earlier)) Reeta smiles up at Nal in a flirtatious manner.

Nal reminds Reeta of Reeta's girlfriend except taller. Reeta's girlfriend halfling. Maybe Nal should wear white then.

As Nal sidles up behind Reeta, Reeta gives her another flirty smile and slides the documents she has already read over.

Nal doesn't know what to do about Reeta's flirting. It flusters her, though she keeps her expression impassive. She's seen what happens to teams when people don't keep their attractions to themselves, and has no intention of lending her name to such a cautionary tale. The tricky part is communicating her disinterest without offending someone she's only just met. Maybe if I act like I don't notice? Plausible deniability? Well, until I figure out something better to do...

Glancing up from the documents, Nal's eyes focus on Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen as she remarks: "Well, I know a little about the Varki and the Ulfen, but less about the region this race goes through. Do you know of anything besides the usual hazards of cold woodlands and hills?" As she finishes, she looks to Lirall for confirmation that she got all that.

If anyone asks about the Varki or Ulfen, Nal will fill them in on what she knows. You can open the spoiler.

Meadow claps excitedly.

"Oh a race! This will be fun, won't it Silence?"

She turns to the snowy owl that accompanies her.

Silence ignores the half-elf and begins to preen his feathers.

Meadow frowns at the owl.

"You're no fun sometimes, you big grumpy grouch."

She turns to Bjersig, speaking louder than normal, not realizing that it won't help.

"We'll need enough supplies that we won't have to stop to forage. How long does it normally take for people to finish? Is the route marked? Will we get a map?"

Once Reeta realises that Nal isn't interested, she'll stop doing it - which doesn't take long.

She then turns to Jei'Balt. No have cold weather clothes? she asks, looking slightly concerned, and passing the kobold her jacket. May borrow mine until buy some. VC gave coin, should be able to buy here.

She then facepalms as Meadow starts speaking loudly and quickly signs what she says. Rude she mutters to herself.

At her first opportunity she will apologise to Nal for making her feel uncomfortable. Reeta still learning about longshanks she admits.

Snow Goblin: You are acclimated to living in frigid lands and have skin ranging from sky blue to navy in color, as well as blue fur. You gain cold resistance equal to half your level (minimum 1). You treat environmental cold effects as if they were one step less extreme (incredible cold becomes extreme, extreme cold becomes severe, and so on).

A halfling with a mop of scraggly red hair and the makings of an unkempt beard rushes in and slams the door as quickly as possible. He shakes off his cold-weather gear and mutters, "Damn cold. The driver of the sled dogs spent far too much time in a pub last evening ... couldn't find the damn Lodge." He reflects and adds, "I suppose I should be grateful he found Iceferry at all." He shakes his head and notices the gathered Pathfinders for the first time.

He sets down his halfling sling staff and says, "Greetings. I'm Apollo. Apollo Fireborn. It's a pleasure. To meet you. Not to be here. In the cold. I just came from helping slay the Whitefang Wyrm. Does the Society ever send us to warm locales?" Apollo gestures and produces a small ball of fire in his palm and starts tossing it back and forth in his hands to keep warm.

He eyes the Snow Goblin warily and continues, "I'm what some call an oracle, cursed by flame. It occasionally causes me difficulty. But I manage to keep the fire under control. Mostly." He looks around and assures them, "Don't worry. You should be fine. I got through my last mission without harming anyone on the team. First time sure, but I'm encouraged things are trending in the right direction." He looks around for a hot drink.

Jei greedily accepts the clothing but stays close to the fire. "Thank you strange Gobby Reeta Jei'balt make sure you no get eaten by wolves. Where good place buy food, water, and hot-warm furs?"

He looks to the Venture master and his assistant at that question. "Gobby clothes are fine but no cover tail."

"Does the Society ever send us to warm locales?"

"Not in my experience, though I've heard of it. I keep hoping to be sent someplace dark." Nal replies with a rueful grin as a thought occurs to her.

She turns back to the Venture Captain and asks: "So, this race is usually just for the Ulfens, and this is the first year they're opening it up to other folks, right? So do we know how the rank and file Ulfens feel about that? As in, should we be wary of sabotage or biased officials?"

“The Balgirdtrek is competitive, but this is a race, not a blood sport. It isn’t unusual for some of the teams to rib one another and there is some history of minor brawls between rivals, but that is not
activity befitting the Society’s first team and I expect you to remain above such behavior. Evidently there are some that objected to our entrance into the race this year, though I’m not sure if there is any reason for it beyond misplaced pride.”

“The weather will be the greatest foe you should face along the way. In winter, temperatures can change quickly, and storms are not infrequent occurrences. Aside from that, the trail should be clear of any dangerous wildlife. Be wary nonetheless. With the trail cut to accommodate the new route, there may be a few more animals on the trek than usual. You should be able to pick up any supplies needed with the coin I gave you at the outpost at the start of the race.”

Apollo grins to Nal in response to his question about warm locales. He grumbles, "Well, one can only hope. And yes, dark is good." He listens to more information about the race.

The halfling repeats what he feels are the important points. "Daily trials. Terrible weather. Got it." He wonders how this is different from any other day he's spent as a Pathfinder.

He turns to the venture captain. "Yes, yes. Did I hear something about a sleigh? I don't suppose it's covered...no, why would it be?" When his flame burns out, he produces another and continues tossing it, a little too casually, between his hands.

When the group is ready, he follows them outside to the sleigh.

How much did we get from the venture captain, just enough for like basic supplies or what's up lol

He sets down his halfling sling staff and says, "Greetings. I'm Apollo. Apollo Fireborn. It's a pleasure. To meet you. Not to be here. In the cold. I just came from helping slay the Whitefang Wyrm. Does the Society ever send us to warm locales?"

"As a pathfinder you get to travel all over the world. Silence and I just got back an island waaaay to the south. It was plenty warm there believe me."

"I'm not into physical activities, but I have to admit that the race is very interesting. Might learn a thing or two while we're at it."

"Yup. Learn by doing. That's how I prefer to do it. Okay! I'm ready to go look over our supplies before we head out. Last call for questions?" Now that everyone seems to be getting into conversation mode, Nal thinks it's best to let the VC get back to work. If no one objects, she leads the way to the main room of the lodge, where they can discuss what gear they have and what they need to buy.

"Well...We know we'll need to cross the river. Maybe we should buy some equipment to build a raft? Maybe a couple of axes and some rope? Of course we'll all need warm clothes and probably tents.

I'll buy my own clothes and a tent for Silence and me. That way nobody will feel bad if we don't share."

She leans forward and whispers to everyone while secretly pointing at the owl.

"Trust me you don't want to share with Silence. He snores like a lumbermill."

Silence spreads his wings and hisses.

Meadow turns to the owl and frowns.

"Oh, you do too. The last time I had to share a tent with you it was like sleeping next to an avalanche."

Apollo chuckles at Meadow's conversation with her owl. He muses aloud, "T'would seem that Silence is an unfortunate name, what with all that snoring...." The halfling follows the group to make their purchases and wait for the sleight.

Reeta decides to get her own tent. Sure, snuggling next to someone warm is nice but, best not push her luck. Sleeping under the stars is also nice but .... not in a storm. She could dig a snow cave - if there's enough snow.

Were you that one who had to sing an ode to her owl in Seedy's place? she asks Meadow. Kitty-Kat told me about that

She will also see if she can get some fur scraps to fashion some sort of crude tail muff for Jai'Balt.

Once the PCs have asked Bjersig any questions they have they can head to the sleighs and meet up with the other competitors. There are five other teams competing in the Balgirdtrek. These teams are split between two sleighs with room for the PCs to fit in the trailing sleigh.

1d4 ⇒ 4

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. Nearer you is an aging human female with two younger teammates, one male, one female. They smile as you enter.

"So what it the name of your team," asks the younger woman. "We're Wyrding Wayfinders."

"Champions of last years' Balgirdtrek," the young lad is quick to add.

"No need to brag that was a whole year ago," the older woman adds.

"Especially when you had to literally be carried under Faergim's arm across the finish line," one of the grumbling men in the back growls drawing laughing and mockery from his teammates.

Apollo climbs into the sleigh with the other Pathfinders. When the Ulfen team glowers at them, Apollo glowers right back.

Intimidation: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Turning his attention to the Wyrding Wayfinder team, Apollo smiles when the excitable young lad chimes in about being the reigning champions. "Impressive, young man. Did you have a favorite challenge?" He pulls out a writing pad and takes notes.

As the discussion turns to team names, Apollo grumbles. "We need a team name? I guess that information was need-to-know." He scans the frozen wasteland, and looks at his shivering teammates. After a moment, he suggests with a straight face, "How about: 'Never Seen Again' ." He settles in for what he's sure will be an uncomfortable ride.

"Never Seen Again. I think it's a good one! Though I'm more inclined to one-worders like Hidden or Unsearchables."

Apollo chuckles at Meadow's conversation with her owl. He muses aloud, "T'would seem that Silence is an unfortunate name, what with all that snoring...." The halfling follows the group to make their purchases and wait for the sleight.

Meadow shrugs.

"To be totally fair he can be very quiet when he wants to even when flying. Owls have special feathers that let them fly silently,"

Were you that one who had to sing an ode to her owl in Seedy's place? she asks Meadow. Kitty-Kat told me about that

Meadow frowns and grumbles a reply, while blushing furiously.

"I was blackmailed."

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. Nearer you is an aging human female with two younger teammates, one male, one female. They smile as you enter.

"So what it the name of your team," asks the younger woman. "We're Wyrding Wayfinders."

"Champions of last years' Balgirdtrek," the young lad is quick to add.

"No need to brag that was a whole year ago," the older woman adds.

"Especially when you had to literally be carried under Faergim's arm across the finish line," one of the grumbling men in the back growls drawing laughing and mockery from his teammates.

Meadow is thrilled to meet last year's winners and claps excitedly.

"Wow! Your team won last year? That's fantastic!l You say your team name is the Wyrding Wayfinders? Does that mean that you're pathfinders like us?"

She pulls out her wayfinder to show to the older woman before blushing and offering the woman her hand.

"Oh I'm being very rude forgive me. My name is Meadow and this is my best friend Silence." She points at the owl. "I'm very pleased to meet you. What are your names?"

As the discussion turns to team names, Apollo grumbles. "We need a team name? I guess that information was need-to-know." He scans the frozen wasteland, and looks at his shivering teammates. After a moment, he suggests with a straight face, "How about: 'Never Seen Again' ." He settles in for what he's sure will be an uncomfortable ride.

"Never Seen Again. I think it's a good one! Though I'm more inclined to one-worders like Hidden or Unsearchables."

Meadow frowns.

"Those don't sound like names that a winning team would have. What about 'Kortosian Geographic Society', 'Absalom Explorer's Club', or maybe 'The Chroniclers'? Oh, wait! I know! How about 'The Chronicleers'? It's like privateer but with chronicle. You know, like a pathfinder chronicle?"

Silence flaps his wings and hoots softly.

Meadow gives the owl an annoyed look.

"'The Superb Owls'? You're not taking this seriously, are you? And 'Murderhobos'? What does that even mean?"

Nal's white teeth flash as she bursts out laughing. She looks Silence dead in the eye and says: "You. Are full of it." Nudging Meadow with her elbow, she adds with an amused half-grin: "That bird's mouth is going to get you in trouble some day."

Settling in to her seat, she nods at the other competitors. "I like 'Never Seen Again.' Either we win and everyone jokes about it, or we lose and everyone jokes about it. Either way, folks'll remember us for a long time. I like that."

"I'm no Pathfinder. But finding our way is what we do."

[b]"An' if we ever do se you again, it'll be too soon." The other teammates laugh raucously.

Before tensions can get any higher, the sleigh stops. Your driver escorts your team out first.

Upon arrival you are given a race pack containing three minor healing potions, a single climbing kit, vouchers for lodging in Frostgarten, flint and steel, a signal whistle, and a list of supplies they should
procure before the race begins.

"Meet back here in three hours for the start of the race."

1d10 ⇒ 2

A trio of very muscular Ulfen, 2 females, and 1 male approach.

"Look at them all small and scrawny," the male says.

"Yah, perhaps we should team up with them. We could carry them all the way," add the first woman.

"We could carry one under each arm. It wouldn't be too hard. Then we would win just like Faergim did last year, only better," says the other.

Glancing at the list, Nal muses: Eh. Can't hurt. She's about to turn to go pick up the extra supplies when the the Ulfen form a wall of muscle before her. Great. What's their deal? Insecure or xenophobic? Or just enjoy being mean? Eh, prob'ly all of it.

Not wanting to start the race with a broken jaw, Nal shrugs disarmingly and tries to nonchalantly edge around them as she replies good-naturedly: "Eh, odds are we'll be so far apart that you won't have to deal with us. C'mon guys. We gotta get the rest of our supplies." With that, she slips around the human wall, hoping against all probability that the Pathfinders can get away before any real trouble starts.

She is determined not to get sucked into a "conversation" with these bullies because she knows it'll end with her and her team hurt or in troule, and those bullies will get away with it.

Nal will pick up a hatchet, another coil of rope, and a repair kit. She already has the other stuff.

Jei had silently shivered during the sleigh ride over, quietly hating the world he occasionally laughed at the banter but didn't seem to get the joke of the name. It was however when the ulfens began insulting them upon their departure that he snarled.

intimidation: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

"We not too small! Compact mean we go faster, you get to close and we see how small you's is then. Maybe we carry-lift you across line of finishing."

Getting off the freezing sleigh first makes Apollo happy. Although sometimes it's hard to tell.

The Ulfen's who approach them are a different team than from the sleigh, correct?

When the new team of Ulfen's block their way, Apollo smiles and says, "You mean we could team up with you? If I'm being honest, I'd very much like to be carried." The small halfling pauses and adds, "And it would be perfect: you can do the physical labors while we handle all the thinking." Before they get a chance to process and respond, he sneaks past them to join Nal with the shopping.

Apollo his own Repair Kit, but it doesn't hurt to have a couple.

Nal's white teeth flash as she bursts out laughing. She looks Silence dead in the eye and says: "You. Are full of it." Nudging Meadow with her elbow, she adds with an amused half-grin: "That bird's mouth is going to get you in trouble some day."

Silence turns his head so it is almost upside-down and stares back at Nal.

Meadow laughs at Nal and Silence.

"Oh you have no idea of all the trouble he's gotten me into. Remind me to tell you about the time he stole that wizard's sandwich."

She scratches Silence on the chin.

Hearing the team name, one of the gruff ones in the back yells.

"An' if we ever do se you again, it'll be too soon." The other teammates laugh raucously.

Without missing a beat Meadow yells back.

"Oh yeah! That's what I said to your mother last night!"

She turns to her teammates.

"You see? That's why we need a proper name and not a silly one."

Silence turns his head around almost backwards and hoots at Meadow.

A concerned look crosses the young half-elf's face and she bites her lower lip.

"Maybe you're right. That was kinda mean wasn't it?"

She yells back at the hecklers.

"Sorry about that comment about your mother. That was mean of me. I'm sure she's a lovely lady. How about this one instead? You'll see us again. You'll see our backsides when we cross the finish line ahead of you."

She nods in satisfaction.