Fellowship of the Dice

"Indeed it does," Cal says, offering Bokken his hand. "Deal!"

Then, whether the man shakes it or not, he continues. "We should have a couple of potions waiting for us. And I daresay we'll want a few more. Maybe a greater healing potion and a potion of strength. Maybe one of invisibility or levitation." He looks over at the others with a raised eyebrow.

Arenhal smiles thinly, "If there's anything else you need that we might find, we'll see what we can do."

Bokken and the group debate over some potions, what the old man has, or can finish concocting in the next hour, he has half a dozen potions in the final stages of completion. So after an hour the group is riding away with a half dozen or so new potions that jiggle in the pack.

By evening, just as the sun is burning red and orange the four of your ride back into Oleg's Trade Post. Horses are put in the stables and you are greeted to the sounds of hammer on nail. Seems Oleg is working on that tower room you had talked to him about before leaving last time. Making your way toward the noise you spot a man sitting at the table outside by the fire. He nods and waves at you, "Now you look like the type of folks that might just be looking for. One of you Lem the Beastslayer?"

"He's right here," Cal says, patting the halfling on the shoulder. "Why he saved me from a mad bear not more than a few weeks ago!." He stays to listen to what the man says. But at least part of his attention is on the work being done on a tower room. It'll be nice to have somewhere to set up my alchemy lab, he thinks, looking over toward the tower.

The man is a middle aged human with a balding head, but a long pony tail. He wears rustic leathers and wool, and his boots are covered with mud. A cloak and a shortbow with quiver sit up against the wall nearby. "Name's Vekkel Benzen, and as I understand it I owe you a reward for the death of Tuskgutter."

"Well that honor does not fall to me but to Arenhal Boarslayer. I am merely a slayer of bears!" the small halfling offers with an odd amount of earnesty in his voice.

Arenhal just nods, his actions were not done to receive recognition, but a matter of survival. He has once again slipped into the shadows of the others, and seems more happy there. After a moment's silence he shrugs. "I could hardly have killed it without the others. I just got lucky that my axe beat Lem's arrows."

"Lem Bearslayer, Arenhal Boarslayer, and Oleg Wyrmslayer," Cal says with a smile. "There's a regular passel of beastslayers here at the trade outpost!"

Vekkel stands up, "Well then Arenhal Boarslayer, I offer you my thanks." He reaches out and shakes Arenhal's hand, "And my reward." He grabs up the bow and quiver and places it on the table, "Oleg has already given my Tuskgutter's head, and I promsed a nice reward for it." He unwraps the bow, "This is a fine weapon, unfortunately, my information was incorrect, and the bow..." is small! Its sized for Lem not Arenhal! The legend of Lem Beastslayer has struck a blow in favor of the little guy it seems. "However the arrows, they can fell a beast like no other. Enchanted by the hunters of the north, one shot can kill even the strongest animal. Please, take them all, and when I make the headcheese I'll send some along as well."

"Well, then it's the Bearslayer's lucky day!" Cal says, slapping Lem on the back. "And just in time, too," he adds. "We'll be heading out again soon." He shakes his head. "No rest for the weary."