After arriving in Ratass, Spendeltar had a hankering for some type of gourd-confection. Mid-purchase, the boy selling the gourds was dragged away by a wolf. Spendeltar, some half-elf farmer, and I chased it into a thicket where three goblins lay in wait. After slaying the pathetic goblins and taking their pathetic possessions, we returned the boy to his father. The half-elf turned out to be a warrior named Jenni (this might change?). We were awarded gourds and huge pumpkins as a thank-you, which seemed ludicrous, until a local baker transformed the pumpkins into pies. A lovely idea, I must admit. I will commit the taste to memory. Adding a hint of pumpkin to any beer entices me.
The baker also crafted Spendeltar’s precious gourdcicle or whatever it was called. Now we may have time for a few hours’ rest before the evening’s festivities.