If you don't want your possessions tinkered with - don't leave your pack in sight of a rogue before you fall asleep!

So, two people sleeping at the inn, or so it might have appeared. The sound of regular breathing soon made it clear that I was in fact the only one awake. Slowly and quietly, I searched through the pack, and retrieved the gems I'd just presented. And then I left, using all the skill I've learned to do so without making a sound.

I've never made the journey so quickly. Denion came to the door of his smithy having recognised the knock I always use to signal that it's a friend who seeks him. I produced the gems, then explained what was wanted, and he immediately set to work. I've mentioned before that it seems almost miraculous that such a big man can produce the fine detail he puts into his work. Those strong arms and big hands can swing a hammer or a blade but can also forge items with the tiniest details worked in to them.

I examined his handiwork as Denion attended to my blade, setting a stone into the pommel. The gems were now held secure, both in their own finely-worked mount, and dangling from a pendant chain of tiny linked rings and lockpicks. The top end of the chain can be attached to a clasp or a pin, so can be worn at the ears in whatever manner is preferred.

The stone, set in the pommel of my blade, is where I can see it when the blade is drawn, and I can rest my hand on it when the blade is sheathed. So many meanings in that gem, I'm told - and all the meanings will sustain me and remind me of the time it was given.

The marcs were passing, so after settling my account with Denion I hurried back to the Inn, and was able to replace the gems in the pack where they'd previously been kept. And just in time, too!