You receive a summons to visit the Pathfinder Lodge in Iceferry, near the town of Kalsgard within the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Venture-Captain Bjersig Torrsen asks for you by name to join on an incredible mission.
"Rawr?" asks the cat, wondering at the curious sight, his gaze shifting between the sleeping catfolk in the middle of the room then back to the woman.
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A male human in his late forties enters the room and says, "Good day all. Erastil's blessings be upon ye and yer kin. I'm Father Emil, a priest o' Erastil, lately without a home community ta serve, so I've answered the call ta serve Golarian at large. Pleased ta meecha all!"
He speaks with a country drawl and a bit of a Ulfin accent. He is a big man, over six feet tall, strong and graceful despite his size. He is well armed and armored, wearing hide armor and carrying several weapons that look as if they were converted from farming tools, plus a longbow, the favored weapon of Erastil.
He has a kind face, with a scruffy beard and hair that he probably cut himself. His eyes are blue, his face tan from regular work in the sun.
He takes an interest in the big cat, holding out a hand for the animal to sniff. He regards the sleeping catfolk on the floor and then makes eye contact with the others, acknowledging each with a nod or a 'howdy.'
>A half-orc dressed in a thick wool tunic, hide pants and furred boots greets you.< He motions you into the lodge with a simple grunt. A small gnome named Lirall nods. “He wants you to come inside. Come on. Come on, Mahki!” A black and white furred dog follows and leads you all to a calming fireplace.
The Half-Orc Venture Captain sits down in a large wooden chair and waits for everyone to sit by.
The bear sits next to Tandang, curiously looking around.
Scout chuffs and sniffs the bear. Convinced that Kaibigang Oso poses no threat, Scout plops down beside his new friend.
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"I came across him when poachers were chasing him as a small cub. He must have been separated from his mother," Tandang says to Heather, his hand settling gently on Oso’s thick fur. "I crossed their path at the right time and stepped in to help. He carried a bullet wound that could have ended his life, but with some care and a bit of luck, he pulled through."
He gives the bear a soft pat. "From that day on, he never left my side. Even when I tried to let him go his own way, Oso chose to remain with me. So I trained him, taught him discipline, taught him to fight, to defend himself."
"Nice to meet you, Scout!" he tells to Heather's companion.
Oso glances down at Scout as the tiger sniffs him, blinking twice before lifting his gaze toward Tandang. The druid gives him a nod of reassurance. Oso rumbles softly, then looks back at Scout, now curled up comfortably at his side. With a slow breath, the bear relaxes next to Scout, as if they have always belonged together.
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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Emil greets Tandang with a warm smile and makes sure the dwarf can see his holy symbol of Erastil. He also admires Kaibigang, although he feels a bit sheepish wearing a bearskin cloak. Emil's original priestly post was in the forest of Verduran, where he met and learned from many a druid.
Emil is intrigued with the assignment. He has spent enough time in nature, hunting, fishing, and doing conservation work in his youth and while serving in Verduran to feel at home in wilderness. He would be there still if a group of loggers had not attacked his community, setting all dwellings on fire, and killing many adults. Once he had helped the few survivors resettle, he joined the Pathfinders to give him an opportunity to find out where Erastil might need him next.
"I look forward to meeting the competitors. My ancestors came from this region and it is my understanding their religious views are in line with Erastil and the druids. It will be a worthy challenge."
He is interested in learning the rules and objective of the race, but he assumes that will be explained before things start.
Father Emil nor Mahatma can remember much about the details of the Balgirdtrek.
But the Venture-Captain nods to Lirall and she pipes up. "Two Houses won last year! The two couples crossed the finish line in the early hours of the third day, slept at a local inn, had breakfast later that morning, and walked back to the finish line before notifying officials that they had crossed." She nods.
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 two couples are busy chatting, not even acknowledging your presence.
The four at the far end of the sled barely glance at you, shooing you off to the other team. The other team scoots over to make some room. "Locals." Is the only word Father Emil gets before one of the racers finishes a joke and the four of them break into laughter.
The four in the back nod. "Right. Locals. No foreigners around here. Hmpf!" And turn to themselves.
The man Father Emil spoke to looks him, still chuckling at the inside joke. "Oh man... two horses... Sorry, we're all from Icemark, around Frostgarten. You don't look Varki, you must be those Pathfinders I've heard about. Best of luck to you, but we're not going to spill our secrets to victory." He smiles. "I'm Steen. This is my better half, Unn." The woman waves. "And these two are Leif and Oluf." One of the men smiles, the other one grunts. "We're Two Houses! We won last year!"
"They don't even recognize last year's winners..." You hear someone from the other group mumble.
The starting area cleared for the Balgirdtrek in Kalsgard is bustling with activity. Merchants and traders hoping to support the race have set up stalls and carts to sell supplies and equipment to the teams.
As your sleigh arrives you hear cheers and applause as the sleighs pull up to the starting area.
Before you have a chance to react, the riders at the end of the sled stand up and move right past you. The driver helps them out of the sled. "Last year they came in last place, and they've been training ever since. They never give up and they are Without Trace or Fail! Give them a round of applause!" The crowd livens up and you already hear sidebets forming over how many officials they will rescue this year.
”The two pairs of lovebirds are at it again! Meet Two Houses!” The bystanders cheer as two pairs of Ulfen hold hands and help each other out of the sled before giving each other a high five and getting into position.
The driver turns to you and urges you forward. "And now, newcomers from around the world. The Pathfinder Society explores, cooperates and reports. But no fancy books are going to save them this time. They've got to hoof it to win it. May I introduce... the... err..." The driver's voice comes to a whisper. "What's your team name again? Pathfinder Pups?"
"Sounds a little plain, if you ask me..."
"The Pathfinders!" The driver shouts. Some of the Ulfen stop clapping and glare. Some laugh. There are enough who politely clap. The driver escorts you to the stage.
The other driver introduces his passengers.
"Next up is Bluetongue's Brawlers. Hopefully they won't freeze this year. With the new groups, maybe they won't be last!" Four burly Ulfen climb out of the other sled, laughing just as hard as the crowd.
"Now give a round of applause for our local hero! The great Faegrim Axebringer with her squires and a scribe close by! Give a warm welcome to the Wyrding Wayfinders!" The crowd erupts with praise as >Faegrim< stands tall and quietly looks among the crowd, her squires dashing ahead to clear her path of obstructions.
"Finally, let's give a warm Balgridtrek welcome to our racers from the Varki, hand selected by the newest Linnorm king! Say hello to the Fangs of the Remorhaz!" Three humans and a droomar awkwardly climb out of the sled, blinded by the large crowd. The crowd falls back to polite applause and backs off, some wearing disgust.
The two drivers join hands and raise their voices in perfect sync. "Welcome to the Balgridtrek!" The crowds cheer on their favorite teams, mostly split between Two Houses and Wyrding Wayfinders.
”Greetings, Pathfinders. I’m Dahlia, the host here.” The gray haired woman strides towards you. ”Every team racing in the Balgirdtrek gets a starter pack. Even if they don’t start the race.” She snaps her fingers as an elf runs up and offers you a bag.
You receive 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. She eyes each of you as you look through the bag and read the list.
”Here’s a list of equipment you might want to purchase. You should definitely make sure you have some of the winter clothes, tent and a hatchet. You’re going to be out there for 4 days. Every year one team gets buried in a snowstorm, or they wander from the checkpoints at night and need rescue, or they lose their supplies in the branches of a tree they can’t cut down. But I’m certain that won’t happen to newcomers like you, right?”
The list reads:
- winter clothes
- tent
- hatchet
- rations
- healer's kit
- 100 feet of hemp rope
- repair kit
”You have about 3 hours until the race begins. Feel free to buy supplies from the merchants here.” She pauses. ”Do you need a refresher on the rules, or can I deliver supplies to the other teams?”
"Hey, check out the Pathfinder!" A blonde athletic woman with a runner's build comes up to meet Hadrimos. "What's your name, buddy? I'm Jori. Hey Sigurd! Sigrun! Baltus! Over here!" Three more muscular humans approach and hear Hadrimos's tall tale.
"How do deal with the fur? Usually we just dump ours when the race starts."
"How do you deal with wet fur? Usually I'd run faster to keep myself warm!"
"We should some more strength training. Jori can outpace us in a race but she's always taking breaks when we start throwing boulders."
"We're going to do some laps before the race starts. You wanna join?"
The Bluetongue Brawlers either took Hadrimos's words at face value, or they don't really care. They just wanted to talk to newcomers.
"Have you ever been to the Whitegold River Crossing? The river is quite cold and the current is strong- we usually swim across but some people don't like frostbite. It builds character, I say." Sigrun laughs and her teammates give a good chuckle. "They'll probably let us pole vault this year. Plant a stick in the ground and use it as leverage to leap over the river. Jori's favorite." Jori nods enthusiastically.
Sigurd looks out to the crowds and other teams. "I should warn you, friend. There are rumors of sabotage. Bluetongue's Brawlers welcomes you and the Varki, we love more competition from all across the world. But some are... well, old fashioned. They think only Ulfen should participate. Hmpf! Be careful, someone may try to make you lose for unfair reasons."
After that warning, they get restless and start their pre-race funrun. "Good luck out there. Remember to win tired!" Baltus waves a goodbye before trying to catch up to the rest of the team.
"A friendly bunch, they are." Dahlia catches up to Hadrimos. "They're like Faegrim in terms of strength but not in terms of smarts. Much more sober than her too..." She shakes her head. "Never mind, I'm rambling. Come on, gather your team. I have to go over the rules."
Once you all come together, she clears her throat and slowly scans the crowd. "No attacking the other parties, trash talking is allowed. And no meddling with team equipment or the events."
"You're going to make an overland trek to each checkpoint. You won't see civilization again until the end of the race, so take it in now." She grins. "Each checkpoint has some kind of obstacle to overcome. I'll tell you what they are when you get there, so don't worry about that right now."
"The winning team not only gets there the fastest but also completes the tasks successfully. Two Houses technically crossed the finish line first a few years ago, but Faegrim's squires did really well on the river crossing and almost closed the gap. So don't feel terrible if you fall behind."
"Any other questions? Are you all ready to go?" You see the other teams are assembling near the starting line.
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Father Emil has winter clothing and a lantern, but he spent most of his initial Pathfinder allowance on his current gear. He will purchase a hatchet, but his adventurer's pack has rations, a bedroll, rope, torches, and a waterskin.
Emil will talk to each team, wishing them luck and encouraging a fair competition. He tries to learn a bit more about the Varki team, curious as to why the crowd did not welcome them as warmly as any other. If prejudice is the cause, he wishes to assure them he does not share any such attitude and hopes they stay safe and do well. He expects they will be well equipped to handle the challenges.