GM G's Frostfur Captives (Inactive)

Game Master Magabeus

“Close the door,” Ambrus Valsin murmurs as the team gathers in his office. “Let me start by saying, this mission is not for dissemination among other members of the Society.”

The chamberlain of the Grand Lodge gives everyone a serious look in turn before continuing. “This mission is not an investigation, just a simple, straightforward assignment, but that makes it no less important.”

“I need you to book passage to the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, and cross over into Irrisen. You’re to head north and rendezvous with another team who have captured some—” Valsin pauses for a heartbeat before continuing. “—persons of interest. We have reason to believe that these individualshave information on the Shadow Lodge cells that are refusing to reconcile with the Society under Grandmaster Torch’sleadership.”

Valsin’s expression becomes particularly grim at that point. “If these rogue cells are outright refusing amnesty, then they represent a clear threat to all of us. I need you to take charge of these captives and get them out of Irrisen safely and quietly. Once you’re clear of Irrisen, a larger extraction team will take custody of them and bring them in for questioning. Of course, we will cover the expense of your travel in full, and provide maps to lead you to the meeting point in Irrisen. Because of the nature of the mission and Irrisen itself, you’ll be meeting the other team in the field, away from what passes for civilization up there. The team you’ll be getting the prisoners from will show you the best route out of Irrisen, and the castellan of Trollheim has agreed to grant you passage through his lands. You are responsible for avoiding unexpected trouble between the handoff and Trollheim.”

Valsin gestures for the team to depart, but pauses, staring at his fireplace for a moment before adding, “Wait. You need to know this. Your prisoners will be goblins. The Shadow Lodge separatists made extensive use of the sadistic creatures as soldiers and servants, and as much as you may want to throttle them, please remember that we need them alive.” Then with a final nod for luck, the venture-captain dismisses the group.

At Valsin's instruction not to discuss the upcoming mission with other Pathfinders, one of Wyeth's eyebrows goes up... but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Just a moment," he says firmly when dismissed. "I loathe politics, but I prefer to be successful in any task I undertake. And I have questions. How are we to recognize this 'larger team' at Trollheim? And I imagine the captive goblins will identify the first group well enough, but where exactly is this rendezvous?"

With a frown he adds, "And how are these goblins being kept captive? Please tell me they're sturdily caged or at least chain-ganged."

Saitama listens intently, nodding his head as he hears the Venture-Captain's words.

"Interestering. Goblins you say?"

With my Chronicle, adding a few bits of gear. Do you want this in the Discussion or Gameplay tab?

A scowling Ulfen, albeit one with a ruddy tan, lurks at the back of the room, clearly wishing to spit several times, at the mention of both Irrisen and goblins, and just catching himself.

As they file out of the room he introduces himself in a heavily accented joyless monotone, "Darmut Skychaser, I am assigned with you. I have trident, I have some spells, I have Shersht. So let us do this, yes?"

Looking to Saitama he adds, "He said goblins," and spits on the floor.

Snorting in slight disgust at the word of goblins, the witch simply nods. "Sounds like we may need some cold-weather gear..."

"Just a moment," he says firmly when dismissed. "I loathe politics, but I prefer to be successful in any task I undertake. And I have questions. How are we to recognize this 'larger team' at Trollheim? And I imagine the captive goblins will identify the first group well enough, but where exactly is this rendezvous?"

With a frown he adds, "And how are these goblins being kept captive? Please tell me they're sturdily caged or at least chain-ganged."

Valsin glares at Wyeth

If you want you can try Knowledge (Local) and / or Knowledge (Geography) checks. Please include "untrained" in your roll if you do not have the skill trained

There will be a fast forward to Irrisen after everyone is ready, you do not have to worry about getting there.

"Ahh, just making sure.", the warpriest shaking his ear and tapping it so to confirm it wasn't mucked.

Will have purchase updates later today, G.

"Goblins? I'm not surprised. Goblins would just be tools - poorly chosen tools, for most tasks, certainly, but the Shadow Lodge revolt was poorly led." Merevelyn was sorry, for typically-complicated reasons, that she missed the peak of Shadow Lodge activity.

"'I loathe politics'?", the half-elven young woman stifles a laugh at the warrior's comment. "Everything is politics. And, life is better - or, well, more certain - the sooner you realize that."

Merevelyn learned that lesson early and often, growing up on the streets of the Narrows, the roughest part of that city of politics, Oppara (made worse by her secret worship of Sarenrae, a forbidden god in that country). An early memory was her father holding up his arms and telling her to jump. "I'll catch you," he said. He didn't. "Never trust anyone," he simply said as he turned and walked away.

So far she, and her thrush familiar on her shoulder, have been quiet, studying the group, listening, though she affected her pleasant smile - even 'enchanting', it had often been called - on greeting each member of the team. A survivor and now a Pathfinder, every genuine expression was stifled in Merevelyn.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Knowledge (Geography), untrained: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

"What can you - or the others - tell us about goblins, Sir? Their likes and dislikes?"

"What should we know about Irrisen?"

Unt Know Local: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
Unt Know Geo: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Untrained Kn: Geography: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
Untrained Kn: Local: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (9) - 2 = 7

Unsurprisingly, Saitama knows very little about Irrisen.

"Same as most things I imagine, like stabbing, dislike getting stabbed, like eating dislike being eaten," Darmut says in his grim monotone, spitting again.

Untrained K Local: 1d20 ⇒ 15
Untrained K Geography: 1d20 ⇒ 12

Oh, so that's how you're going to be? thinks Wyeth as Valsin glares at him. He simultaneously raises one eyebrow and adds the man to his mental list of people he'd sooner avoid than not.

Kn: Geography (Untrained): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (20) - 1 = 19
Kn: Local (Untrained): 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12

Looking over at Sterelin as they exit he asks, "How cold does it get up there? I know where Irrisen is -- roughly -- but nothing about the climate that far north."

Pleased to be working with at least a few people he knows from his only Society assignment to date, his gaze roves over the people new to him. "Wyeth Riceak. Don't mind the leg." He kicks out his left foot to show he hasn't one, the entire lower limb replaced by an articulated metal contraption. Other than that he looks normal enough -- save for the dead animal skeleton he wears for a helm.

And the fact that he's barefoot.

As they are about to exit, the door creaks open and a half-orc walks in.
"Pardon sir Valsin for arriving late on the briefing. The delivery i've made on your behalf had some delay. Some officials don't trust tall half-kin carrying packages."

Had to make up something..
A modest smile comes upon his face as he sees some familiar faces.
"Wyeth, Sterelin, brother Saitama, good to see you."

He strongly taps the iroran on the back.
Smack on the shoulder: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
"As for the two unfamiliar faces, i'm Marduk the Pale. Monk of Irori, good day."

Darmit raises his chin and tightens his jaw, nodding to the half orc, as he says in a gloomy monotone, "Darmut, I hunt. I trust we will work well together."

Realizing his social faux pas, Saitama quickly puts his hands in together in prayer form and bows. "Yes, well met! I'm Saitama, fist-priest of the Enlightened One!"

He then grins happily at the half-orc. "Glad we can be working together again. Irori smiles upon me!"

Merevelyn watches Marduk enter and gives a welcoming smile and nod. "I'll be glad to inform you of what you missed," she says helpfully.

As she assesses the newcomer, the hunter, and priest, she has the private thought, Looks like I will be the brains of the group. That could be an advantage.

I don't see her as very nice, at least at this point. She also doesn't know about Sterelin...

Well you're starting off nice, offering to fillin. ;)

"Marduk! exclaims Wyeth, walking over and offering one hand while clasping the monk's shoulder with the other. "You've been assigned to this team as well?"

He turns to the new-to-him Pathfinders with a big grin on his face. "You newcomers can rest easy. With this august crew," he says as he sweeps a hand towards the other three, "our success is assured!"

Sterelin nods welcome to the newcomers and addresses his companions in his thick Varasian accent, "This should be a piece of cake to what we went through last time. Hopefully, we can find a bit more gold along the way though... the treasure we left just sitting there in that museum." The mage scratches the feathers of the parrot sitting on his shoulder. The parrot bobs its head, whistles and shreiks, "Ill fortune to leave a fortune behind."

Uh-oh. Careful, Merevelyn: too much confidence in the room. Just remember, too, that you're the newcomer; they don't owe you anything - at least, not yet.

Marduk looks over the newcomers more serious now that he has caught up with his friends from the former adventure.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

..."Something troubling your mind miss elf?
You were offering to brief me."

Ambrus looks you all up and down again.
"The average daytime temperature in Irrisen during this time of year
is just above freezing, and the average night-time temperature is lower then that. It is a cold and forbidden country, I would not dwell there any longer then necessary." he turns towards the fire "Get back quickly and make sure enough goblins survive for questioning. You have half a day, be back here at noon. A wizard will magically transport you to the place where the goblins are held."

With that Ambrus points to the door, you are dismissed. Let me know when you are ready to move on.

I have used all untrained Knowledge Local 10+ as aid others for Merevelyn
Faction mission posted, see link in description

Before she leaves, Merevelyn asks a last pair of questions, "How long will the mission take, and how long do we have to get to the extraction point?"

Merevelyn walks out with the group, filling in Marduk about the nature of the mission, speaking in whispers given the sensitive nature of the mission. "So, meet up with the capture team in Irrisen, take custody of the goblins, keep the little blighters alive somehow while escorting them out of Irrisen and into the Lands of the Linnorm Kings (where we are welcome), and then hand them off to a big extraction team."

"We're also to avoid trouble on the way - but don't we always?" she makes a little joke.

Merevelyn plays nice, and isn't very trusting at this point, but she fakes it well.

Speaking to the group, "I am Merevelyn, Taldan by birth, and an enchanter by training, and Caelum here is my familiar."

"We'll all need cold-weather gear, certainly. I have a heatstone for emergencies, but I could only afford one. Do we have someone to create water? That saves a lot of weight." At the last she makes a gesture showing her almost-impossibly thin arms, seemingly very weak.

"Well met, Merevlyn... Merevellelyn.... Merev!", as the muscle-priest stands with his hand outstretched for a manly handshake.

"I was planning to grab my coldweather gear; while exercise in brisk air can be good for breath circulation training, Irori is not a fan of frostbite. Also, I can create water. Always good to be able to get a cool drink after a hard day of adventuring or working out!"

Ambrus sighs

'Field agents, always so full of questions... The extraction team will wait outside Trollheim's walls for four and a half days after now. So make sure that you arrive there before that day. Now prepare and be back here at noon, I have other matters that need my attention"

Darmut shrugs, and responds in his lifeless monotone, "The mountains of the Land of the Linnorm kings are my home, I am prepared for the cold. Water is normally not such a problem in the cold lands. I have nothing to prepare."

To Merevlyn he adds, "I to have a bird, but not one so conveniently sized. Shersht awaits us outside."

"Say whatever you can manage, Saitama, and I will understand," Merevelyn laughs. "Some just call me "Mer", pronounced like in "Merfolk". And well met, likewise, I am sure."

"So Marduk and Saitama," Merevelyn whispers out of earshot of the others - even making sure her lips are not in a position to be read - "we are together the Grand Lodge faction, and our instructions from V-C Valsin seem straightforward enough."

"I am going to pick up some jars of 'Goblin pickles' to make friends - as much as you can with insane, sadistic monsters, anyway. Given their love of fire, I'll also prepare a little cantrip, 'Spark', and perhaps we can let the best behaved light the evening campfire."

"I may need some help, though, in carrying everything, so that I don't slow the group down. Perhaps one of you bigger, stronger men can help me with that?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 31
Diplomacy doesn't work on PCs, but just for role-playing purposes.
Her words are almost preternaturally soothing and reasonable...

"But of course! It is the responsibility of the strong to carry the burdens of the weak!"

Catching Valsin's further grumbling as he exits, Wyeth shakes his head in wonder and grins. "Some of these Society higher-ups amaze me. So concerned over mission success, but can't be bothered to answer simple questions to help assure said success."

To Saitama he comments, "I have no cold weather gear to grab; I'll have to procure some. Never needed such, being from warmer climes. You need anything from the shops or market? For that matter, anyone? Anyone?" "Bueller?"

1d100 ⇒ 66

He turns to Merevelyn. Another of those eye-batting finger-wrap-arounders. "I'm willing to carry some of your load as well. I recommend against water though. Wine or ale, even mead are far superior choices. And while not a staple, pulque is a delightful diversion to keep on hand."

As they exit the building a great bird the size of a pony descends from the roof landing next to Darmut, who nods gravely to it, "This is my companion Shersht, a young mountain Roc. Shersht these people are frændi."

Wyeth stops short, staring at the big bird.

"Holy... Shersht!"

Not looking away from the roc, he casts one word at Darmut. "Impressive."

Darmut nods, scratching the roc just above its beak, "It is not the size of your giant flying death raptor, but how you use it... Still I do look forward to when he comes into his size enough that he can carry a rider."

Wyeth nods thoughtfully, still engrossed by the bird. "We must talk later."

"Thank you, Saitama. A sound division of labor can be the key to a mission's success. Please, let me know if there is anything I can do for you." Good. It appears they are willing to cooperate and listen to reason - at least if the case if simple and strongly made.

The thrush on Merevelyn's shoulder ruffles up its feathers and extends its neck at the approach of the enormous bird, as if trying to appear larger, but it is soothed with some soft words.

"If we are all indeed ready need we wait? Let us get underway," Darmut says, voice as usual devoid of any emotion.

The player is ready. The PC needs to hit the shops, so he'll meet you at the departure point.

Merevelyn comes to the departure point, swaying slightly and hunched over with a large waterproof bag slung over her shoulder, which she awkwardly slings around to Saitama with a "Whew!"

"V-C Valsin didn't mention provisions, so I've picked up six more day's worth, and 18 jars of 'goblin pickles' - overly salted and spiced pickled tripe and the like. They have voracious appetites - we can win their cooperation, I think, with food and treats."

It weighs a total of 29.5 lbs., containing: 1 Bedroll, 1 Blanket (Winter), 3 Rations (Trail/Per Day), and 18-1 lb. jars of Goblin pickles. We could probably disperse items as we get them, hopefully keeping everyone at lighter loads.

Wyeth chuckles. "Goblin pickles. Not to be confused with pickled goblins. Or imps," he says, grinning at some private joke.

"Goblins are sniveling brute creatures at best. We can win their cooperation by showing them that they will be firmly chastised otherwise."

Darmut frowns, "Loathsome creatures they may be, but we are sent to free them not terrorize them. Besides such methods are loud and only likely to work up to a point, we would be better to show them there best interests align with our own. I have been a slave and I have no intent of acting like a slaver, such people deserve long and painful deaths."

In Valsin's office the Master of Scrolls is waiting for you. He refuses to answer any questions and removes a scroll from inside his robe. He reads it and suddenly you are standing in a freezing landscape. The surrounding area is white with snow and on the horizon to the east you see large mountains looming.

Some hundred yards away you see a camp.

For those with spellcraft / knowledge arcane: the spell used is known as "GM's prerogative". It is a very powerful spell, well above your characters abilities.

Shrugging Darmut starts making for the camp, with Shersht launching himself up into the air and circling over the Ulfen's head.

Pulling his furs on over the cold-weather outfit he'd already donned, Wyeth resumes the discussion interrupted by their transport.

"Sent to free them? What briefing did you attend, hunter? They're prisoners and we're escorting them in to be questioned."

He begins walking alongside Darmut. "Our job is to keep them alive and healthy enough to be interrogated. If striking some fear into them helps with that, I don't see a problem."

The oracle glances over at Sterelin. "I doubt 'chastising' will do the trick, but we have a better shot at controlling them with fear and force than reasoning with them or appealing to their self-interests."

"I'm guessing you haven't had many dealings with goblins, Darmut. Don't expect much in the way of rational thought. They're maniacal eating machines and little more." He looks at the Ulfen pointedly. "And they have a particular hunger for human flesh."

D'oh, dopey player, the character ought to have known better.

Darmut shrugs, "Very well just tell them Shersht will pick them up and drop them from three hundred feet, that ought to be convincing."

Merevelyn has her breath taken away by the display of sheer magical power. She pauses as the others casually continue their conversations and trudge off, but she knows enough - though it seems a small amount indeed - to be truly impressed.

Recovering, she hurries after the others. "I prefer to try diplomacy before force; force and threats may always be used later," Merevelyn says, her words suddenly forming little icy clouds before her. "Somehow, the Shadow Lodge got the goblins to work for them; though I have no idea how, we should be so clever and resourceful."

At the camp you are welcomed by a Ulfen woman, well covered in furs. She introduces herself as Ragna Lightfoot and asks you to follow her.

Around you some men are breaking camp. It is obvious they are well accustomed to working together and that they will be ready in a few minutes.

Ragna leads you to an area where you see six goblins. They are chained together and guarded by two man.

"Here they are, good riddance. Although I wouldn't mind to sleep in a bed and get the cold out of the bones I am glad I don't have to suffer their company anymore."

She hands you a map and a key.
"Here you are, the way to the hamlet of Harvest's End is marked. That is the best spot to cross the Rimeflow river. I also have prepared a pack with rations for 12 for four days, that should cover you until you reach Trollheim. The best of luck and do not turn your back on these miscreants."

She leaves a bag with you with the mentioned rations, and then nods to the two man. They follow her, pick up their packs and suddenly you are alone with six chained goblins. They are chained together, and the chain is well anchored into a big pile of stone.

Wyeth laughs at Merevelyn's comment as the group walks towards the small encampment. "Another who has never dealt with goblins." And who doesn't listen.

He smiles at the Wizard as he makea a noble sweeping gesture. "You go right ahead and try your diplomacy, miss. Quite honestly I'd rather it work. But when it doesn't, I won't hesitate to step in to protect the mission."

He chuckles. "But I'll be a gentleman and shan't say I told you so."

He offers pleasant greetings all around upon reaching camp, and pays close attention to the information provided. He asks pointed questions about the security of the goblins' shackles and whether there have been any incidents with them slipping free so far. He also asks when last they ate, and how much.

Deferring the map to someone else, he accepts the key and sequesters it deep in his backpack, fastened to an inner gear tie. "And this is the only key, yes?"

"Goblins respect power, as far as i've heard. Intimidation could work"

Once in the bitter cold, Saitama quickly contemplates enduring the chill as a test, but rationalizes that Irori would be displeased if his Iroran Fist of Justice became mediocre due to frostbite, and quickly dons his cold-weather gear before approaching the camp with the party.

"Harvest's End, Rhymeflow River, Trollhime. Got it!"

"But friends, first, Marduk. Power should be used as a sign of respect, not authoritay!"