From the moment the dwarf walked into the Squirrel’s Den, Marcus the Squirrel knew he was of noble birth. A lifetime of trading in jewelry, precious stones and other finery made his eye keen for such things as the signet ring the dwarf wore on his thick finger. A mountain dwarf by his complexion, the Squirrel knew this would not be a pleasant encounter, but very possibly a profitable one.
“You, there. Are you the one called the Squirrel?” the dwarf said.
“I am. What brings you here my noble lord?”
“Not lord. Though my father be Baron Strifebjorn, Lord of Strifebjorn Manor in the Gray Mountains, I am nobody’s lord. I am Steiner,” said the dwarf.
“Well, Steiner, you are a humble man of high birth.What can I interest you in today? A charm for a beloved, perhaps?” the Squirrel knew full well what brought the dwarf. It would be too much of a coincidence if it were not the very same dwarf Draken spoke of. The one that fell victim to ogres, only to buy his freedom from Harris Orangeleaf, the notorious forest gnome with severe gambling addiction. This Steiner could only be here for the emerald. The Eye of the Griffin, Harris called it, before losing it to Draken in a game of bones. And Draken sold it to the Squirrel, for enough gold to keep Draken drunk and happy in the company of fine women. 30 gold coins. The jewel was worth 100.
“I seek a gem, Squirrel,” the dwarf said, “I will pay well for it.”
“I have many fine stones, my dear dwarf,” Squirrel said, “look here.” He gestured to a box draped in velvet upon which were many gems in a rainbow of colors. Rubies, sapphires, amethysts, and jet black onyx in a variety of sizes and intricate cuts. “I have been blessed. The discovery of the ruins of Inslath have brought many treasures into the city. And while adventurers have a taste for drink, my store is well stocked.”
“Your wares are impressive. But it is one particular stone I seek. The denizens of the Drunken Centaur Tavern insist it is in your possession.”
They always did have big mouths at the Drunken Centaur. “Oh, so what sort of gem is it?”
“An emerald of exceptional clarity. It is known as the Eye of the Griffin. Though some may look down upon your profession, I understand well that people must do what they can to survive and to thrive. I do not know under what circumstances the stone came to be sold to you, but I will give you a fair price. My father’s barony is wealthy,” the dwarf said the magic words.
“And if I had this stone...how much would you pay?”
“I will pay double what it cost you to obtain it,” the dwarf was serious. “Show it to me, and we will make a deal.”
“I paid a pretty penny for the stone. It came from a forest gnome, Harris, I believe was his name. He came in for an appraisal of the gem, but I saw its beauty and promised him a king’s ransom, a hundred gold,” the Squirrel was planning his retirement.
“Two hundred gold!” the dwarf bellowed, “where is this gnome, now?”
“Damned if I know. He took payment in gems and in as many coins as he could carry in his pack. Probably well into the forest, I would wager,” the Squirrel lied. The gnome was likely rolling bones in some tavern, losing the shirt off his back.
“Enough about the gnome. Show me the eye.”
The Squirrel removed a key from his pocket and unlocked a chest that lay underneath the store’s counter. He removed a small cloth from the chest and laid it upon the counter. Steiner’s eyes widened as he unwrapped the cloth to reveal a lump of coal.
“What trickery is this?” the dwarf raged.
The Squirrel looked at the black rock in horror. “I assure you, Steiner, the emerald was…”
Both men turned quickly as they heard the squeal of laughter, only to see the back of a fleeing forest gnome, taunting them with a large brilliant emerald held high above his head.
“Pleasure doing business, Steiner and the Squirrel!”
*** Continuing the tale from day 3!
“You, there. Are you the one called the Squirrel?” the dwarf said.
“I am. What brings you here my noble lord?”
“Not lord. Though my father be Baron Strifebjorn, Lord of Strifebjorn Manor in the Gray Mountains, I am nobody’s lord. I am Steiner,” said the dwarf.
“Well, Steiner, you are a humble man of high birth.What can I interest you in today? A charm for a beloved, perhaps?” the Squirrel knew full well what brought the dwarf. It would be too much of a coincidence if it were not the very same dwarf Draken spoke of. The one that fell victim to ogres, only to buy his freedom from Harris Orangeleaf, the notorious forest gnome with severe gambling addiction. This Steiner could only be here for the emerald. The Eye of the Griffin, Harris called it, before losing it to Draken in a game of bones. And Draken sold it to the Squirrel, for enough gold to keep Draken drunk and happy in the company of fine women. 30 gold coins. The jewel was worth 100.
“I seek a gem, Squirrel,” the dwarf said, “I will pay well for it.”
“I have many fine stones, my dear dwarf,” Squirrel said, “look here.” He gestured to a box draped in velvet upon which were many gems in a rainbow of colors. Rubies, sapphires, amethysts, and jet black onyx in a variety of sizes and intricate cuts. “I have been blessed. The discovery of the ruins of Inslath have brought many treasures into the city. And while adventurers have a taste for drink, my store is well stocked.”
“Your wares are impressive. But it is one particular stone I seek. The denizens of the Drunken Centaur Tavern insist it is in your possession.”
They always did have big mouths at the Drunken Centaur. “Oh, so what sort of gem is it?”
“An emerald of exceptional clarity. It is known as the Eye of the Griffin. Though some may look down upon your profession, I understand well that people must do what they can to survive and to thrive. I do not know under what circumstances the stone came to be sold to you, but I will give you a fair price. My father’s barony is wealthy,” the dwarf said the magic words.
“And if I had this stone...how much would you pay?”
“I will pay double what it cost you to obtain it,” the dwarf was serious. “Show it to me, and we will make a deal.”
“I paid a pretty penny for the stone. It came from a forest gnome, Harris, I believe was his name. He came in for an appraisal of the gem, but I saw its beauty and promised him a king’s ransom, a hundred gold,” the Squirrel was planning his retirement.
“Two hundred gold!” the dwarf bellowed, “where is this gnome, now?”
“Damned if I know. He took payment in gems and in as many coins as he could carry in his pack. Probably well into the forest, I would wager,” the Squirrel lied. The gnome was likely rolling bones in some tavern, losing the shirt off his back.
“Enough about the gnome. Show me the eye.”
The Squirrel removed a key from his pocket and unlocked a chest that lay underneath the store’s counter. He removed a small cloth from the chest and laid it upon the counter. Steiner’s eyes widened as he unwrapped the cloth to reveal a lump of coal.
“What trickery is this?” the dwarf raged.
The Squirrel looked at the black rock in horror. “I assure you, Steiner, the emerald was…”
Both men turned quickly as they heard the squeal of laughter, only to see the back of a fleeing forest gnome, taunting them with a large brilliant emerald held high above his head.
“Pleasure doing business, Steiner and the Squirrel!”
*** Continuing the tale from day 3!