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.
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.”
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A tall and slender female elf in her thick winter coat and leather armor arrives at the lodge. She is wearing her adventurer's backpack and a quiver of arrows tucked between her and the bag. Her dagger is strapped on her right leg while she is holding a shortbow with her left hand.
Her pony-tailed long straight hair moves as she walks. A flying young owl follows at her back and lands on her left shoulder with a small dead rat in its beak. The bird gulps the dead vermin whole.
"I am Avery Wings and this is my beautiful friend, Sophia. I don’t know if you still remember me, but I am one from the team you dispatched recently to retrieve a gorget, a family heirloom of a storied long-dead Linnorm king," the elf introduces herself to the Venture-Captain, hoping he remembers her, while her young bird scratches its head with hers. Avery pats the owl's head and the bird flies away to look for her food.
“She's always hungry lately," she explains.
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"To make friends and influence people!" a kobold with silvery scales pipes in. "Pathfinders used to not like kobolds, then we made friends, and now we work together. Linnorm Kings not like Pathfinders,s o now we go make friends!"
He flicks a razor open and closed inattentively as he continues, "I am Tieri. I will care for your medical and grooming needs on this trip." He lowers his voice slightly, "...and maybe dentistry? If it comes up. Just need to ask."
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Swayaah rubs her jaw, around one of her fangs. "So we're racing as dignitaries." She beckons her smaller friend to get close.
"I'm Swayaah Maelerant...i. Pleased to meet you." She takes her hat off of her horns. "This is my assistant, Fae. If Tieri can't heal ya, Fae will." The albino tiefling shirks behind Swayaah.
"Venture-Captain, we'll be glad to help out, and hopefully win this race."
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A tall slender woman with blond hair tied back in a ponytail joins the group. Seeing both Tieri and Swayaah step forward as healers, she, too, steps forward.
"Kaitlyn Deathsbane, at your service. I'm also a healer. It appears we have this group covered in terms of putting people back together. Oh, by the way, you may call me Kat. It's what my brothers and sisters at the monastery called me."
Kat's voice is slightly more musical than a human's and now that you've noticed, her ears are a bit on the pointy side.
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A rather plain-looking young halfling woman is standing beside a thorny ball bigger than she is. Both of them bear a glowing sigil of three teardrop-shaped loops with their points meeting in the middle, evenly spaced in a triangular shape, with sharp spikes jutting outward between them from the center. She pipes up: "Well, shoot. I break that streak: no healer here. I'm Illnore, and this is Chiselnits. He's a big cuddlebug."
The "big cuddlebug" resembles a large, round, spiky burr with three long vine tendrils. One is thick and muscular; the other two are covered in thorns. Its face is nestled into a small gap in the thorns; the eyes are set too close together.
"Hi everyone! Can I pet your doggy?" Chiselnits extends his muscular vine toward the dog so it can sniff him as he glances questioningly at the Venture Captain.
"We are taking part in this competition to accomplish two things. Learn more about the competition itself, the Balgirdtrek, and gain more information about the Ulfen and Varki cultures. Hopefully, bring them closer together towards a new era of peace."
"We do not know who else is competing at this time. You should meet some of the other competitors along the way."
He chuckles and answers Illnore's question, "Some Ulfen clans find us taking part in this race as a decline of tradition and do not like us for it. I doubt that they would be openly hostile towards you. Although minor brawls have occurred in the past between teams, nothing deadly I will add."
Tieri recalls that two of the teams taking part are the Bluetounge Brawlers and the Wyrding Wayfinders. The brawlers are a group of four ulfen warriors who rely on brute force to surive. While the Wayfinders are led by an experienced Champion of Cayden Cailean.
He also recalls the story behind the Balgirdtrek
Though Bluetongue himself was slain in Irrisen protecting the Djurstor Confederacy against Baba Yaga in 3313 AR, his body was not properly buried until it was recovered by Ulfen raiders two centuries later. Laid to rest in Kalsgard, the city held an overland race to commemorate the deeds of their fallen hero; and so, the Balgirdtrek was born.
The race has been held annually, drawing brave teams from Ulfen communities across the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. To win the Balgirdtrek is particularly noteworthy, but simply completing the race is considered a tremendous accomplishment.
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"Oh-kay. So sort of a friendly competition, but they take it super seriously and want to keep their traditions only for themselves. So we're not just making friends and learning about their culture, we're also teaching them the value of not being isolated from the rest of the world! Right?" Illnore beams and looks around for confirmation that she's on the right track.
"And I should buy some thicker winter clothing."
"Oh! I've got to too! And I'll need to cobble something together for Chiselnits too. Odds are they don't have anything I can buy right off the shelf for him."
In the end, Illnore resorts to buying strips of warm, heavy cloth and just wrapping them around him, adding a few ties here and there to keep them in place. It works well enough, but it looks silly, especially with his thorns poking through the fleecy fabric.
"Hey look! I'm furry and pokey like a porcupine! Wanna pet me?" Chiselnits giggles and rolls around Illnore. Funny enough, the spines on his body retract when he rolls, and his face leaves funny prints in the snow. "Hey Illnore! Look what happens when my mouth is open when I roll!" He shows off, leaving an imprint of a goofy face in the snow.
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"How long is this event supposed to last?" Ekaterina before looking down at her clothing. "I'll have to buy some winter clothes. And probably a bottle or two of lesser winter wolf elixir."
The Jadwiga then proceeds to but some winter clothing, two potions of lesser healing potions and two elixirs of lesser Winter wolf elixir from the society stores and grabbing one of the scrolls of Restoration from the school.
Before leaving, Torrsen answers Ekaterina, "According to the rules, you must complete the course within four days."
Once the PC's are ready, they head outside.
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.
The other group, comprised of three human males and a human female, seem a bit friendlier and move some belonging to make room for the PCs.
"You must be other new team competing this year, if you think you can take our title, you're mistaken." He says with a laugh. "I am Leif and this is my husband Oluf. Over there," Leif points to the male and female across from him, "are Steen and Unn."
"You definitely are not Varki, so I am assuming you are the Pathinder Team." Oluf says out loud, causing the other team to glare over for a moment, before returning to their conversation. "Do not mind them." Oluf says with a wink.
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"Yes. We are Pathfinders. Ekaterna Elvana. These are my companions, Avery, Tieri, Illnore, Chiselnits, Kaitlyn and Swayaah." Ekaterina introduces the group, pointing to each member as she names them.
"Who are they? I don't believe I have seen them before." she asks as she follows Oluf's gaze to teh other team.
"They are Without Trace or Fail" Oluf answers, "Ulfen traditionalist who believe it is disrespectful to allow outsiders to join in the race. They about withdrew when they learned of the Varki taking part."
Leif chimes in, "Pathfinders you say. Not long ago, you all recovered a family heirloom of mine. Grehunde’s Gorget, it was lost at sea and a team of your agents were tasked with retrieving it."
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"Haha. Good to see you. I helped retrieve that gorget. I hope you were able to put it somewhere safe." Swayaah smiles and extends a hand. "Sorry, my nails are really sharp." Her handshake is slow and practiced.
"This isn't the first time someone looked at me and frowned." Swayaah laughs when Without Trace or Fail keep their distance. "I'm sure the Maeleranti charm will kick in at some point, though."
"I've heard about the Wyrdling Wayfinders and Bluetongue's Brawlers... I think that's all the teams except the Varki?" Swayaah counts as Fae scribbles notes down.
Chiselnits rolls up to the wagon, then uses his vines to clamber up into it. Staying in a seat is...tricky. It was clearly made for bipedal-types, not adult-human-sized thorny balls with long, thorny vines. "Ope. I'll just, um, here. Maybe if I...nope. That won't work. Sigh. Illnore, can you help me? I don't want to hurt anyone." He glances down at her with a pleading look in his eyes and a plaintive tone to his voice as he mumbles so only she can hear: "Especially since those ones are looking at us all grumpy-like."
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"Oh, Chiselnits. I know. But these folks here are friendly. So how about you retract your thorns and put your thorny vines inside your body cavity. Then you can coil your other arm into a circle and rest your body in that so you don't roll around on the floor as we go. How's that sound, buddy?" She gives him some rubs and scratches as she helps him settle. His belly cracks open to reveal an open space where he tucks his arms per her instructions.
Once he's been seen to, she hops up onto a seat and smiles shyly at the friendly team. Taking a deep breath, she begins timidly: "So, you're the winners from last year? Do they use the same route for the race every year? How many teams usually join?"
Leif extends a thick gloved hand, "Nice to meet you"
"They are all bark, no bite. They know better to violate the rules of the race." Steen chimes in.
"Yeah we did win. Returning champs. We crossed the finish line on day three and stayed at an Inn that night. The next morning we went back the finish line to claim our victory." Leif says with a slight chuckle. He regains his composure before continuing. "No, the route is not always the same. Usually we begin in the wilderness and end near a town, to honor Balgrid's return to civilization. However, this time around we are beginning in town and heading out into the wilds."
"That is because the tradition makes it sound like the Varki are uncivilized." Unn chimes in. She crosses her arms, "The wilderness they refer to is in the Varki's territory and the return to civilization would be an Ulfen village."
Steen places his hand on his wife's leg, "No need to get fired up. Times are changing and the Varki are apart of this epic tradition."
"Six teams" Oluf answers, "The Pathfinders, the Varki team, and the four returning teams from the previous year."
A voice from the front of the sleigh interrupts the conversation, "We are approaching the starting area. What is your team name?" The sleigh driver asks the PC's. "May I suggest, Pathfinder Pups, Odds meet End, or Teeth Chattering Society" He says laughing to himself.
Glancing around, then down, Chiselnits mumbles: "Not everyone has teeth, you know. I don't want to be a chattering tooth. Pathfinder Pros sounds better for me."
"Eh. Pathfinder Pros it is then" The driver says with grunt.
The sleigh turns and enters a large open area that has been cleared. Along the perimeter, stalls and stands have been sent up by the merchants of Kalsgard for the race and are bustling with activity.
The sleigh stops in front of a stage and the teams are met with cheers from the crowd as they disembark.
A female voice calls out between loud cheers and rounds of applause. "Arriving in the first sleigh, The Bluetongue Brawlers, The Fangs of the Remorhaz, and finally Wyrding Wayfinders. In the second, are the Pathfinder Pros, Without Trace or Fail, and the returning winners The Two Houses. May all competitors race with dignity and honor."
One of the race coordinators usher the PCs over to a staging area where they are provided with 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.
The coordinator advises that the items on the list are optional, it is at least best to have the first three on the list to make the trek easier. They also make sure the PC's are clear on all the rules.
Before leaving they tell you the race is set to begin in 3 hours.
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"Thank you for the list. A hatchet? Hmm. I suppose it would be useful to get firewood. Okay. I'll give it a whirl."
Illnore hustles off to buy the hatchet so she'll have time to mingle with the folks. She's interested in how the old teams, the judges and staff, and the general crowd view the inclusion of the new (outsider) teams.
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Swayaah and Illnore both gather that the first leg of the race is traveling overland a significant distance.
Illnore also overhears from the officials that the first event is a tree climb of sorts.
While getting prepared, the Varki competitors approach the PC's and give a friendly smile. Two of them, a human male and female that share a striking resemblance begin to look over the PC's gear. The female waves you over, "Make sure to fasten this securely. Will make it easier when moving if you do not need to fight momentum going against you."
The other two, another human and a half-orc wait for the others a couple feet away.
The male laughs, "Ylva, you are too nice sometimes, you do realize this is a competition."
"Yes Marbin I understand that. But we are first timers as well and should make a good impression by helping others in need." She turns back to the PC's before heading out, "Good Luck. See you at the starting line."
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The PC's finalize their purchases and head to the starting line. A thick braided rope is tied between to wooden handholds, that are both carved with the head of a linnorm.
An older female stands off to the side and begins to speak, her voice carries over the crowd with ease. "As with tradition, the reigning champions shall start the race."
Leif and Oluf head to the sides to hold the rope. Steen stands in front of the assembled teams. "Is everybody ready?"
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"Thank you for the offer." Ekaterina gratefully accepts Swayaah's offer to share a tent.
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With Illnore and Swayaah looking into the first leg Ekaterina tries to find out about the other parts of the journey.
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Taking the advice they were given to heart the witch double checks the ties as well as her snow shoes are properly secured.
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"Hey hey, good luck to ya." Swayaah shakes the Varki's hands. "I'm Swayaah Maelerant...i. These are my teammates. This is my assistant, Fae. She's shy. Looks like your teammates have that trait in common." She waves wildly. "Good luck to ya, we're all gonna have some fun."
She gets to her spot in line. "I'm ready."
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While getting prepared, the Varki competitors approach the PC's and give a friendly smile. Two of them, a human male and female that share a striking resemblance begin to look over the PC's gear. The female waves you over, "Make sure to fasten this securely. Will make it easier when moving if you do not need to fight momentum going against you."
The other two, another human and a half-orc wait for the others a couple feet away.
The male laughs, "Ylva, you are too nice sometimes, you do realize this is a competition."
"Yes Marbin I understand that. But we are first timers as well and should make a good impression by helping others in need." She turns back to the PC's before heading out, "Good Luck. See you at the starting line."
"Oh, thank you so much! I'm Illnore, and this is Chiselnits. It's so good to meet you. Good luck in the race!" Illnore's genuine earnestness is plain as day on her face.