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The adventure begins at Iceferry Lodge in Iceferry, a small town in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. At the Lodge’s entrance, you meet Lirall (female gnome Pathfinder agent), an enthusiastic gnome with ink-stained hands wearing numerous furs and brightly-colored scarves. She ushers you inside and out of the cold. As you take a moment to warm yourselves by the fire and brush the snow off your cloaks and boots, Lirall walks over to a panel of labeled, colourful pulleys and tugs on the purple pulley labeled “office.” The attached cord, which runs along the ceiling and disappears through an opening in the wall, goes taut, waving a flag in another room and causing a flurry of excited barking from a nearby dog.
Lirall grins widely and leads you into a comfortable office. Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen (male half-orc scholar) sits at his desk, poring over a collection of aged scrolls and maps. Bjersig’s service dog, a husky named Mahki, nudges Bjersig to draw his attention to you. Bjersig grins at you and invites you to sit with a gesture at a collection of comfortable chairs. Bjersig is deaf and prefers to communicate in Napsu-Sign, the Pathfinder Society’s signed language, though he can speak oral Common fluently when necessary. He punctuates his signing with expressive facial cues and intermittent vocal speech. Bjersig is excellent at lip reading and can understand your spoken questions so long as you speak clearly and in his sight. Despite this, Lirall translates your words into Napsu-Sign, just as she translates Bjersig’s signing for you.
Welcome to Iceferry Lodge, my friends! Enjoy the warmth while you can—you depart again shortly.
Two months ago, the Linnorm King White Estrid invited a Pathfinder Society representative to engage in negotiations with her in Halgrim. Estrid’s looking for heroes to explore the mysterious Island of Ancestors, and she’s considering us for this honor. She made it clear that during these negotiations, we’d have to demonstrate we have the right skills and temperament for such a significant adventure in her lands. We’ve chosen Gorm Greathammer to represent the Pathfinder Society in these negotiations.
By all accounts, Gorm’s doing well, but it seems negotiations have hit an unexpected snag. Last week, five juvenile linnorms descended on the city and are wreaking havoc. The linnorms are the children of Boiltongue, Estrid’s linnorm ally, which makes for a sticky situation. The populace dares not lift a finger to intervene, knowing they would face the wrath of their king—not to mention Boiltongue himself—if they upset the linnorms. Boiltongue, meanwhile, is busy attending to his duties in the throne room and is unable to pay his children much mind.
Gorm’s reports indicate the linnorms are well-behaved under Boiltongue’s watchful eye, but a rambunctious ball of disaster outside it. To be frank, the city is in chaos—a chaos which Boiltongue and Estrid could easily end. Seems suspicious, doesn’t it?
Gorm and I believe that while the young linnorms’ arrival was unexpected, the Estrid and Boiltongue have decided to use the chaos as a sort of test. This is an opportunity for the Pathfinder Society to prove their tact, skill, and bravery. And by the Pathfinder Society, I mean you.
I’ve booked you passage on a ship heading to Halgrim. It leaves this afternoon, so you’ll have time to resupply before you head out. When you get to Halgrim, find the linnorms. Do what you can to keep them happy and out of trouble. It’s likely the linnorms will clash with Halgrim’s citizens. If they do, try your best to smooth things over. If you can’t, use this. Bjersig places ten pouches on the table, each heavy with coin. Funds to pay for damages and appease pride. Only use them when absolutely necessary. I’d much prefer you win over the citizens of Halgrim with words and deeds. Remember, we’re trying to make a good impression. Any questions?
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Liam is a human in rather unusual armor made of mismatched pieces. It features rather more than the usual amount of buttons and knobs for a suit of armor, and intermittently releases steam.
He carries a shield and a weapon that he insists is of his own design--the fact that it highly resembles a traditional gnome weapon being merely a coincidence.
"It's certainly an.. unusual assignment," he offers.
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Khaul, a stout dwarf with a shield always at the ready looks on stonily.
"Keep the populace safe from the young linnorms, and the linnorms safe from the populace, while minimising damage all around?" he says, trying to make the mission clear in his mind.
"And where necessary... provide funds to fix the problems, or at least let the citizens drown their woes in ale."
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"Howdy ya'll!" An elven woman enters the inn, reeking of mint and rosemary. Alongside her is a gray-furred wolf who sniffs at Mahki's direction and then plops down near the fireplace.
"That's Deroff. I'm Miladistra." She pauses, shakes hands, and plops down into a chair. "Who are we killing this time? Seems like every mission just ends with bloodshed."
Her expression brightens as she listens. "Sounds like less fightin, and more like we're telling some rowdy teenagers to calm down. I'd love ta help talk 'em out of it." She pauses. "I should buy some cold weather gear."
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The elven wizardress enters, her hand upon a quarterstaff. The staff is tapered at the base and carved into a gem-studded twist at the top. She wears green and black fine boots of elvenmake on her dainty feet and s cloak of deep green with a voluminous hood.
Her robes are white as is the floppish hat on her head. On her sides are scroll cases and a few wands. Her skin is the color of ivory which only serves to highlight her midnight black hair and purple eyes.
On her shoulder is a small draconic creature with purple bluish scales and butterfly wings, snacking on a small fruit pie.
I am Avonathalanthalasa Caldon, from Kyonin and a student of the art of the Magaambya.Elven is often difficult for non-native speakers to pronounce so you may call me Avonatha, if that is easier for you to pronounce. This is Quete she says, pointing at the faerie dragon.
Quete continues to smack up his pie, looking around at the party. Seeing the wolf, the dragon sticks his tounge out at it and blows raspberries.
She continues, Are there any other followers of the Vigilant Seal present for this mission? Her tone is friendly but matter of fact.
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The wizardress nods to Liam and replies I am sorry about Quete. He sometimes gets excited, especially seeing steam come out of metal. I am sure that your abilities are most appreciated by the society,
She turns towards the dwarf and her fellow Vigilant Seal member. The warhammer seems to be your weapon of choice, are you a devotee of the Father of Creation or another of the dwarven gods?
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The flashily dressed, out-going and mature half-elven woman greets everyone in the outer room while they gather. "Vanetta Dariav," she introduces herself with a smile and a hand-shake as she looks over the team and makes compliments to each one of you.
Liam's steam-powered armor and Khaul's warhammer get glowing compliments for their ingenuity and sturdiness.
The beauty and grace of the two elven lady spellcasters almost take Vanetta aback, but she recovers quickly by rubbing Deroff's belly and offering Quete a chin scratch. It's hard to tell, but there's something slightly off in the way the half-elf greets the two pure-bloods. But either way, she readily compliments their outfits and offers to go shopping for winter clothing with Miladistra, inviting Avonatha and the boys along, too.
"So, baby-sitting a clutch of linnorms," she comments with a shake of her head and a smile at Khail and Miladistra's summary of their task. "I agree, that's certainly different. But I'm sure we're going to do great," she finishes with what appears to be a constant upbeat cheeriness.
"It's been a long time since I ran a caravan into the Linnorm Kingdoms. Anyone remember what language they speak in this particular one? Skald, Hallit, Varisian? And what about the linnorms? I presume they can speak Draconic, but we know what they say about 'assuming' things."
"Seems suspicious, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it certainly does. Do we have any intel on competing factions there? Or enemies of the Queen that would want to lure the clutch into town to make her look bad?"
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The wizardress looks at the half elf as she enters into the room. She nods in acknowledgement of the new arrival's compliments. I would assume that the Ulfen people of the Land of the Linnorn Kings would speak a plethora of languages. The languages that were mentioned are not any that I have studied, but perhaps some in the group might? I have studied the language of the draconic races. She turns to the dwarf answer his previous question. Quete, speaks the language of the forests and the fey and not the language of dragons.
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"I pay me observances to the Father, that is true. For without him, I'd be naught. But me true dedication be to his son Traag. That said, I'd never put hammer to forge without offering a prayer to the ForgeFather ms Avonathaaa.... Avon?." he replies, muddling up even the shorte version of her name.
He offers a bow to Vanetta. "The hammer may be me weapon of choice. But I'd never be within me trusty shield. Now that I did forge meself. And she's a beauty don't ya think?"
He remains silent when others start to talk of their linguistic prowess. It maybe such things are not his strong suit.
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"Howdy Vanetta!" Miladistra goes for the full hug. "Yer lookin' mighty fancy. Uh, I'm not sure if we can invite them to a party, but I do play the pipes fairly well." She pulls out her piccolo. "Pardon ma manners, I'm Miladistra and this spoiled feller is Deroff." Deroff accepts all pettings and licks the woman's hand.
"I'll let all of ya'll do the translatin', because I don't know any Draconic. If we meet any First Worlders I can chat with 'em for a while. Or if we need to question the animals directly, I can talk to 'em as well."
The little dragon bats at Liam's finger, playfully like a cat, and then lies on his shoulders, like said mammals are want to do.
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He offers a bow to Vanetta. "The hammer may be me weapon of choice. But I'd never be within me trusty shield. Now that I did forge meself. And she's a beauty don't ya think?"
"Oh, yes, absolutely," Vanetta gushes as she inspects the shield.
"Very sturdy, but also such nice craftsmanship. I love the little details like the way you worked with the grain of the wood. Very nice." She truly is impressed, as she always is when seeing fine handiworks that would be far beyond anything she could ever hope to do herself."Howdy Vanetta!" Miladistra goes for the full hug. "Yer lookin' mighty fancy. Uh, I'm not sure if we can invite them to a party, but I do play the pipes fairly well." She pulls out her piccolo. "Pardon ma manners, I'm Miladistra and this spoiled feller is Deroff." Deroff accepts all pettings and licks the woman's hand.
Vanetta returns the hug, a little surprised by the elf maiden's warmth.
Ever since I went to Kyonin to finally meet my mom, I've felt like full-bloods are all looking down on me. Weird, too, cause I didn't feel that way before the visit. It's nice to be reminded that not all elves are snooty b&*@#es like the nobles fawning around my mother. Of course, these two are Pathfinders, so of course they're awesome people.
Vanetta comes out of her momentary reverie and smiles widely. "As soon as we're done with this briefing, we're hitting the shops to get cold weather gear and supplies. And snacks for a certain pooch and dragon," she finishes with another belly rub for Deroff.
The word snacks is a universal term and Quete pops his head up at the mentioning of the word.
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Bjersig ponders for a moment.
Not aware of any enemies who are likely yo take advantage of the situation he says. White Estrid is the Linnorm King of the Ironbound Archipelago. She defeated the crag linnorm Boiltongue on the Island of the Ancestors to earn her throne. Rather than kill Boiltongue, she spared his life and brought him back to Halgrim. The two have been allies ever since. She’s one of the longest-established linnorm kings, ruling with a firm hand but level head, continually engaging in both military and diplomatic maneuvers. Estrid is more progressive than most linnorm kings; she welcomes foreigners and encourages agrarian pursuits.
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A lanky, coppery and gold scaled kobold shuffles into the room late. He is dressed in warm furs and seems to be in a good mood. While he might be tall, he hunches over rather than drawing up to his full height. Other than a simple dagger, he doesn't seem to have much in the way of weapons or armor. "The Dragon has arrived! But please call me Rhaegal. It was so nice of Yurig and Frida to let me sleep at their home. Not as comfortable as the forests I'm used to, but having a warm blanket was nice for a night."
He bows to Miladistra and let's Deroff sniff him as he gets caught up on the request from Gorm. "Baby linnorms! Oh, how wonderful. Yes, I bet our dragon-cousins are a handful for smoothskins, but it's nice the town is being so accommodating! Perhaps I can teach them some things and help them like I did with Jinlong! I'm sure they would love to hear tales of mighty Jadirahx too!" He seems to be excited by this idea. "Yes, yes! I can show them about being a Dragon!"
Rhaegal doesn't even comment on knowing draconic as he is sure every good dragon knows the true language.
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Rhaegal nods excitedly and comes over to Liam to greet him. "Yes, yes! You are one of Jadirahx's heralds too? There's much the linnorm hatchlings can learn from our tales of her."
He suddenly spots Quete and bows to the faerie dragon, ignoring Avonatha for the moment. He speaks in Draconic.
The faerie dragon takes a look at the kobold and yawns.
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Since you seem to have no further questions for the Venture Captain you may roll Arcana to Recall Knoewledge to know more about juvenile linnorms.
You may also roll Society to Recall Knowledge about Halgrim
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The elven wizardress put out her arm and Quete flies back to it. They are both quiet, her brow furrowing, and after a few moments the wizardress turns to the kobold.
Quete apologizes for yawning at you, Rhaegal Dragonkin. Faerie dragons can be as capricious as they fey that they share forests with.]/b]
She turns to the dward, [b] I would be interested in learning more about the dwarven pantheon and the discussion of dwarven theological insights and understandings of their gods. Most non-elves think that elves only worship Calistria or Neyths/ They do not know much about the other elven gods the elves invoke as their patrons. I assume that it would be the same with the gods of the dwarves
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There'd be a mixture of Skald, Hallid and Common. Assume Common unless it is indicated otherwise.
When you are done speaking with Bjersig, Lirall leads you out of the office. After providing you with boat tickets and directions to the docks, she escorts them to the Iceferry Lodge storehouse and gifts them enough food for the journey as well as warm winter clothing. You can borrow this clothing free of charge or purchase the clothing if you want to keep it permanently.
If you want to make other purchases, Lirall either sells you the desired goods from the storehouse or gives you directions to appropriate shops in town.
Outside the Iceferry Lodge, there are two Pathfinders who wish to speak with you: Svala Ice-Rider (female human ranger) and Ingpi (nonbinary snow goblin augur).
Svala sits on a nearby bench, tying on her snowshoes. Her snow owl companion, Kuokei, is perched beside her. A Pathfinder of mixed Ulfen and Varki descent, Svala is a well‑known member of the Grand Archive faction. Her account of an expeditions into the Crown of the World was recently published in the Pathfinder Chronicles.
As you emerge from Iceferry Lodge, Svala waves you over and introduces herself. She greets anyone who have previously met her by name, then remarks, I hear you’re the agents selected to tame Boiltongue’s young. The linnorms will be your responsibility. Be sure to keep them safe, as well as the city. Power attracts enemies, and you can bet Boiltongue and Estrid have plenty of both. What’s more, there’s bound to be some who would love to see Gorm’s negotiations fail. Stay alert. If anyone tries to disrupt our negotiations, see if you can discover who they work for.
Ingpi stands atop a 12-foot-high tower of precariously stacked blocks of ice and snow you pass on your way to the docks, facing the wind with arms spread wide, while muttering to themself. Ingpi is a Frostfur goblin recently recruited to the Pathfinder Society and a new member of the Verdant Wheel faction.
As you draw near, Ingpi calls out, I’ve got a message for you. It came on the wind—with the snow, see? Snow always has something to say. This time, it’s for you. Ingpi then turns to you and grins. Nice spot you’re in! Chance to learn about linnorms up close! Chance to make friends. Sure would be nice for Pathfinders to befriend Boiltongue’s whelps.” If you ask who the message came from, Ingpi shrugs and replies, [b]Urwal, I think. He usually goes on and on about stars and poems. But the snow doesn’t stick around for a speech, see? You recognize that
Urwal is the name of leader of the Verdant Wheel faction, and anyone who have met him are familiar with his role as an astrologer and tendency to use poetic language over straightforward speech.
When you are ready to go, you board a ship bound for Halgrim.
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"Aye, well Trudd be the son or Torag and Folgrit. The pantheon be pretty much all one family. But like all family, they get along well... especially when they be not in each others faces too much." explains the dwarven champion.
"I worship Torag with me hammer, but me shield bears the runes of Trudd the mighty. And in all honesty, I be thinking that Torag be less than happy if I be striking foes with me forge hammer, if yet get me drift."
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Rhaegal pulls his furs tight around his thin frame. "Yes, yes. Good to have word from Urwal. The linnorm hatchlings will love us!"
He turns to Svala. "There are five of the little hatchlings? Can you tell us more about them? Do they know Hallit, Common, or do they only speak the true language of dragons? And what are their names?"
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"We'll be back in a jiff!" Miladistra waves goodbye to the merchant.
"So if feed Deroff this biscuit... I never knew about that trick! Thank ye kindly, Vanetta. I can tell we're going to get along just fine. Reminds me of shopping for fruits with ma. It's less about what you buy and more about who ya talk to."
Miladistra listens to everyone's opinions about the region since she can't help much on collecting information.
Many juvenile crag linnorms consider mountain goats the ultimate delicacy. A large band of mountain goats ranges across Brethul Scarp, to the west of Halgrim’s borders.
Juvenile crag linnorms are predators with voracious appetites that live in the mountains and can both fly and swim. They have a venomous bite and breathe magma.
"Sounds like they love goats, and they are accomplished swimmers. Hmm. Everytime, I'm amazed at how buoyant they are. Mother is an accomplished swimmer despite the fur." She shrugs.
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Miladistra frowns a bit. "Figures there would be rival enemies. Maybe they'll sit this one out."
Ingpi's message flips the frown around. "I do like to make friends rather than enemies." She ruffles Deroff's head, who is busy bouncing between Miladistra's pouches and bags and Vanetta's hands, searching for that smelly Energizing Treat.
"I'm ready to sail when ya'll are."
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Brulivex (female crag linnorm): Brulivex is incredibly shy and is considered the baby of the family, despite being the eldest of the linnorms. She’s nervous, skittish, and doesn’t like loud noises or dangerous behavior. Brulivex is perceptive and good at interpreting humanoid facial expressions and moods. While she can usually tell when people are upset, she’s poor at handling it. Often, such situations only serve to make her embarrassed in addition to nervous. Her siblings call her Bruli, though she gets upset if you call her anything other than Brulivex.
Crookscale (male crag linnorm): Crookscale is a complainer. Nothing is ever good enough for him and something is always horribly wrong. He’s hungry, he’s tired, he’s too hot, he’s too cold, the ground is too rough, something smells—whatever the situation, Crookscale always has something unique to complain about. Crookscale is afraid of heights and water and can neither fly nor swim.
Manglefang (male crag linnorm): Manglefang thinks everything the citizens of Halgrim do is hilarious. Every action, from the plowing of a field to an uttered threat, is a joke. He laughs at the citizenry constantly, sparing breath only to remark why he finds it funny for all to hear. When citizens are upset by his laughter and jeers, he finds their responses even funnier.
Oridius (agender crag linnorm): Oridius is a know-it-all who adores books, maps, and learning about humanoid cultures. It was Oridius who guided the linnorms from their home in the Stormspear Mountains to Halgrim. Well-read and clever, Oridius believes they’re an expert in humanoid behavior and culture. They’re not. They constantly misinterpret information, misread social cues, and share false information with their siblings. Oridius is quick to butt into every conversation with a correction that begins, “Actually…”
Scourtail (female crag linnorm): Scourtail is a thrill-seeker who is impatient, easily bored, and desperate for fun and adventure. She loves to roughhouse and boast. She’s quick to remark, “Boring!” and wander off in search of new sights, sounds, and adventure. As the group’s leader, Scourtail is behind most of the linnorms’ troublesome antics.
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"I don't have it, silly boy," Vanetta tells Deroff with a laugh as he rushes off to Miladistra looking for his treat. When he returns to sniff her hand again, she repeats herself still enjoying the little game they're playing. "Maybe Khauls' got it," she cheekily tells the happy dog, hoping the dwarf smith doesn't mind playing along, too.
As they board the boat, the team notices Vanetta's uncharasteristic unease. "I've run caravans from one end of the Inner Sea to the other, and far beyond. But caravans don't sink into the briny," she says in her defense, but follows it up with an an accepting sigh.
Retiring to a quiet spot, she tries to recall what she knew of the language of dragons from that kobold she worked with on the caravan run through Druma. Now that was a profitable run. But poor old Jelikarill never got used to the team calling him 'Jelly Roll.' The pleasant memories of that run bring the draconic tongue back to her in no time.
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Rhaegal chuckles. "Oh, they sound like a fun bunch! It will be wonderful to meet them. I only wish Jinlong were here to meet them too!"
As they board the boat, Rhaegal steadies himself and peers down to the murky water below. He tries to remind himself that some dragons love the water and even live in the sea. He snorts and shivers in his furs.
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Khaul reaches down and ruffles the dogs neck. "I dunnie have it either laddie, but yer can sit down and keep me a company for a while if yer want. And to be honest a big warm dog like yerself be welcome company in this frozen land."
As he plays with the dog, the dwarf listens to a description of the various young. "Sounds like if we ken get Sourtail on side, it might make the rest of the brood come along easier."
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The elven wizardress listens in fascination to the description of the young linnorns, only having read about their kind in books. The only dragon she [has ever met is Quete, even though she would like to study dragons in more details. The only other dragon she is familiar with is, Zuldanavox, the Queen of Thorns, a green dragon who abides in Kyonin.
As they depart she hears the half-elves hesitancy to boarding the ship. She replies, From what I understand from my brief time in the desert, sandstorms can also swallow caravans and they are lost to time, just as easily as a ship can flounder. Every terrain brings its own type of danger. We could be swallowed by an avalanche at our destination, for example.
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Halgrim is a bustling port city perched on the black, rocky coast of Battlewall Island. Ulfen longboats line the packed docks, and brightly painted wood buildings with thatch roofs line the streets. The chattering of the locals mingles with the crashing of the ocean waves, the cry of gulls, and the distant clang of steel on steel. It’s cold enough for breath to fog the air and for a layer of snow to cover most surfaces. Though the locals consider the weather “mild,” it’s severe cold. Anyone not wearing approprate cold weather gear will start taking damage. The mood in Halgrim is foul. Locals complain amongst themselves, falling silent as foreigners approach.
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Even if an earthquake or avalanche could bury them at any moment, Vanetta's simply relieved to be off that damn boat and back on dry land. She reflects on what she knows about Ulfens as the team makes their way through the streets.
Jeez jeah, they really don't like Irriseni, she recalls as she sees a poster for a play with an ice-witch villain. Even though that war was over a thousand years ago, and didn't really affect this part of the Lands.
Her gaze continues taking in the small nuances of local culture
but is interrupted by a handful of local children who splash muddy snow on her boots. She stops just in front of the mothers and pretends not to have overheard their comment as she addresses the kids.
"Wow, you guys are just as energetic and rambunctious as those linnorm kids, aren't you?" she says with just enough oversweetness that the parents should be sure to catch her true meaning. "But not nearly as destructive." She turns to the mothers and adds with a wink, "At least I hope not."
"But, hey, since I mentioned it, we're actually looking for those linnorns. You haven't heard through the grapevine where they might be, have you?"
The little dragon will make a bee line to the crow's nest as the ship travels, spreading his wings to enjoy the breeze. He will also spend his time looking for treats and enjoying the freedom, swimming with any dolphins that might accompany the ship.