The party’s scouts report strange tracks in the army’s wake. It appears as though they’re being followed by a small group of caribou, by heavy-heeled men, or by weirs who can take either form.
The hoofprints and footprints lead back to an enormous deerpath. This leads the PC’s and their lieutenants to an enormous caravan of Rimefolk. Their herds of caribou are penned in by wood and bone, guarded by patrolmen riding atop enormous mastodons.
A party rides out to meet them. A quick glance suggests that these are the leaders of the Rimefolk, though some are quite young. The youngest, a fair redhead, speaks Commyn perfectly. She introduces herself as Noaidi Golá Álgen. She was born to a ruling clan of the Tunga, the northern borderlands populated by Rimefolk who’ve sworn allegiance to the Commynwealth. She was wed to a man north of the border and now lives out her days in the free lands of the Rime.
Golá is accompanied by three other ‘Noaidi’ – a Rimish word for a holy person, synonymous with weir. They are led by a ‘gonaga’ – the leader of a caravan. The current gonaga is Isak Ole Hætta, an aged warrior of great renown.
The meeting is polite and productive. It provides a welcome relief from the hard-nosed politicking of the Commynwealth. The PC’s learn that the Rime does not have the resources to support a new population. The gonaga can make promises of peace in the near future, but he can make no guarantees that would outlive him. Furthermore, there are dozens of other ‘herds’ of Rimefolk over which he has little say and no control. All present agree that the best hope for a weirfolk homeland lies in the Mountains-over-Maugrimm to the west.