In Aaminiut’s central square, the leaders of the settlement’s two cultures, the Ulfen merchant Bjorn the Blade and the Erutaki elder Seshu, converse quietly as Bjorn hammers the final nail attaching a scrolled piece of hide to the village’s notice board. Villagers and traders gather around the board to read the scroll, murmuring in concerned interest. The scroll is a bounty posting depicting a draconic head in profile with the following notice in Common, Ulfen, and the local written dialect of Erutaki.
Over the past weeks, a creature some of us have come to know as the “Whitefang Wyrm” has been spotted lurking near our settlement, stealing fish from our nets and baskets and leaving nothing but wreckage in its wake. We believe the creature’s lair is somewhere on or across the ice floes of Whitefang Bay. As this creature poses a threat to the survival of all of Aaminiut’s residents, we have prepared a sack of ivory and oosik carvings from the Erutaki and silver bracelets and armbands from the Ulfen, payable to whoever ends the creature’s attacks on our food supply. Proof of the creature’s defeat must be presented to claim this bounty.
-Elder Seshu and Bjorn the Blade
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Not able to read Ulfen or Erutaki, Chén fú approaches and reads the one in common.
"Looks pretty straight-forward."
Looking around he spots a number of others reading the bulletin with interest too. "There seem to be enough pathfinders here to launch an investigation as a team. What do the rest of yo say?"
Chén does not look particularly impressive, though he is a well muscled halfling. And if he is a pathfinder, chances are he is competent enough.
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"Pathfinders? What's that?" a blue-skinned woman interrupts, examining the board for herself while the morning sunlight glistens off of the mirror-like shield on her back. She seems to have made a few rounds for herself, although she is not wearing the iconic wayfinder or anything similar.
"Regardless of my lack of initiation into whatever that is, I'd love to help. I'm trying to find ways to earn my enlightenment, and helping small folk is always a good place to start."
Turning her attention to the others gathered, she extends a hand. "I'm Helvi."
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An elven woman finds her way to the group discussing the Wyrm. She is bundled up in cold-weather clothing, but is unarmored. In fact, she seems to be carrying nothing but a pouch on her belt and a simple wooden cane in her hand. The pouch bulges in a rectangular shape suggestive of a single book.
"Oh, are you bringing down the Whitefang Wyrm? Count me in. Collecting bounties is my specialty." She decides not to add that this would likely be her biggest score to date, both figuratively and literally.
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A tall, muscular elf, with a bow strapped to his back, approaches the group. "I too should endeavor to join this quest, if you shall have me. " He bows slightly to the ratfolk.
"Although I am not I need of chalk." He chuckles slightly, as if making a joke.
"Tirion Erithiel, at your service," he adds, turning back to the group.
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"Let's chalk ahead!" says the dwarf joining the party a bit late. "I am Drokki, Drokki Goldenoak, yes from the Goldenoaks "he waits for any reaction and not seeing one he adds "My clan owns a brewery, that is somehow known in Golarion, but never mind that."
He moves towards the bounty written in Common and glances at it, he is wearing a breastplate and carries a meteor hammer, the chain wrapped around his waist with two weights clacking at each other.
"I heard that it is a running joke to try and sell as much chalk to beginning adventurers. The tale is always the same, 'When you are in dungeon you need to mark your way to find your way out, the last thing that you need is for chalk to run out! Take ten pieces!'" he mimics the voice of a vendor that he met in the past
Bjorn and Seshu, the two leaders of the small village, are chatting to the side of the small crowd gathered in front of the notice board.
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Tirion is quite happy to let his fellow companions do the majority of the talking. After all, due to his half orc heritage, it is quite common for people to not talk to him, whether out of fear or assumption that he is too stupid to understand. So, he busies himself with other tasks; the simplest being to observe the baskets where the fish is normally kept, to see if any tracks can be found.
The two leaders turn toward you as you approach them and introduce yourselves.
"Welcome to Aaminiut friends! I'm Bjorn the Blade, and this is Seshu, the Elder of our little village."
The Erutaki woman smiles at you.
"Thank you friends to show interest in our issue. Yes, the Wyrm takes its name from the bay we live in, the villagers have called it so shortly after it started wreaking havoc to our fishermen's work."
"The creature lair must be somewhere in the bay, most probably on or across the ice floes. If you're really interested in helping us out with this beast I can set up a couple sleighs to make the trip faster and easier, just five silver pieces per Hero!"
The big Ulfen man winks and smiles broadly.
"The creature isn't very big, probably the same size as the seals you can see around the harbor."
"I'm not sure this information can help you, but a man who sighted it told me it has a fin running down its spine."
** spoiler omitted **
** spoiler omitted **
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"Indeed we should go investigate, but sharing knowledge is good to do as well. Knowledge can be power in some situations," Helvi remarks.
Turning her attention to the two with information, Helvi asks one more question. "Are you able to provide directions to its hideout? Even small details like a heading might be valuable."
"As we've told you the creature's lair is somewhere in the bay, I can give you some rough indications. You're sure you don't want to use my dogs? It's just five silvers a-piece!"
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Tirion is not certain. "Dogs get us back quicker if one of our party gets injured," he reasons. "Or if the elements prove too extreme. Are we all prepared for a journey across a cold climate, and do we all have adequate healing prepared for when we encounter the creature?" he asks.
He nods to Skilgim. "I do not say this to argue, young leader," the half- elf says deferentially. "Only to ensure we have all our options on the table."
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"But I don't trust dogs. Likely to panic at the first sign of trouble and toss us off a cliff. Still prefer to go by foot."
"You have too little faith in their training. And, by extension, their master." Celense reaches into her coinpurse and withdraws three gold pieces. "I'll take passage for myself and these five," she says to Bjorn.
Very well, just give me a moment and everything will be set up. Thank you again for your help!
Take care, if the task proves to be out of your league don't hesitate and come back!
After roughly ten minutes Bjorn takes you to where the dogs and their masters are waiting, and you start your trip to the bay.
After roughly ten minutes Bjorn escort you to the dog teams. The dogs are very docile huskies. In another couple minutes all is set and you start your journey to the bay.
After an hour you notice that the tracks you've been following so far split in two different trails. This is clearly a trick attempted by your quarry to avoid nosy visitors.
Thanks to Tirion you manage to find the right path, and in three more hours get to what seems to be the wyrm's lair: an icy grotto in the middle of the bay.
The place is covered in a thick layer of ice, the ceiling is roughly ten feet high, and since the sun is still up and shining the cave is clearly lit thanks to the reflective nature of ice.