Book 2: Act 4 - The Southern Greenbelt

[Trogdor]

"So long as the strays keep appearing and they can help the barony," Cal replies. "I'll keep recruiting them. We've been fortunate up until now, and I don't intend to refuse such good fortune."

"Well, I certainly have no objection to having the wedding there," Cal adds when Lem mentions the temple. "We owe you at least that much for all you've done for Caledonia. And you can be sure I'll be there. I'll even bring all the Knights of the Green we have so you can have a proper sword arch. We don't have many. But I'm sure they'll want to honor a fellow brother-in -arms."

"But I don't know about putting Svetlana to the test. The only way I'll be sure is to have one of your fiance's legendary meals." He winks at Lem.

[Vardaen]

"Excellent! Excellent! Excellent!"

Lem plops down in one of the chairs now, "You sticking around long or on the move? You may have to wait for breakfast to give it a test, she's busy right now, it being later in the day and all. Still, she cooks a mean breakfast." He strokes his chin, "I will concede Leveton's pies are better, but don't let anyone know I said that." He has a round of drinks brought over and the small talk continues.

[Trogdor]

"We're staying the night here," Cal replies. "So breakfast is a real possibility - if it's not a problem. I don't want to be too pushy or get you in trouble."

"And your secret is safe with us. Speaking of which, have you invited Olaf and Svetlana to the wedding? I could drop a hint to her that a pie or two wouldn't be unwelcome at the reception."

[Vardaen]

"Invited? Take a guess who is catering!" Lem then tugs at his belt, "I'm going to have to let this out another notch or two, getting fat in my old age." He laughs and drinks down his ale, he seems a far more lighthearted and easy going halfling now that he's living here and deeply in love.

As he drinks he comments, "I've heard some off rumors, that the Stag Lord has risen from the dead now and stalks the Greenbelt gathering an army of ghostly bandits from an ancient crypt in the eastern Kamelands. You heard anything about that?"

[Trogdor]

Cal takes a sip of ale and shakes his head slowly back and forth. "Now, that's a new one for me. So far as I know, the Stag Lord is long-since gone and not bothering anyone. Long may be stay that way. But then, I suppose people need their ghost stories to fill up dark summer nights."

[Othniel]

"Garuk, Inquisitor of Erastil," the half-orc attempts to respond, but the other man moves along too quickly. Giving Daladek a bemused smile, Garuk follows along with the others, content to listen for now.

[Vardaen]

"Inquisitor? I didn't even know Erastil had Inquisitors in his flock. Guess it could help with hunting down those that don't respect the way of Old' Deadeye?" He really takes Garuk in, "Don't take this the wrong way, but this place overs hot baths." He winks at Calanthir, "That goes for all of you. You've been on the road a long while is my guess."

[Trogdor]

"You won't hear me complain over the prospect of a hot bath," Cal replies with a smile. "I agree, we're all a bit ripe. And I'd rather be relatively fresh when we return to Stagfall."

[AdamDaBomb11]

"That would be lovely. I was wondering how long I'd have to wear this Troll stench." Ylyndar takes to a bath almost immediately.

[Vardaen]

Lem finally responds to Cal about the rumor of the Staglord, "Well that's good. I'll let folks around here know. Alright off to the baths with you..."

You spend the rest of the night in the baths, eating and drinking, making small talk with Lem, and then sleeping in real beds. Morning arrives and you are invited to Lem's little house to meet his wife- to-be (they live a very unconventional life in Tatzlford and have moved in together before being married).

When you arrive, to wonderful smells, Lem is standing with arm around a small halfling woman, "Greetings. This is Idagrace, my bride to be!" She curtsies and smiles, "A pleasure to meet the Baron of Caledonia and all of his council.

Idagrace

GM

Monday we can move along out of Tatzlford.