Baddar shook his head disdainfully. "I am not a tumbleweed, at the whimsy of the four winds, cupbearer. I would not have my life be yours: every deed in vain. But enough! Loose the bonds and give me the blade!"

Within the inn there were few occupants. With dark just approaching it would take some time for patrons to find their way into the place. The innkeep and some helpers were preparing, however. Cleaning tables and glasses. From the kitchens came hearty scents of supper cooking.

A few of the Legion soldiers were present, passing the time with talk of past action. A few locals as well, talk about the weather. One of Jok's friends was there, but without the group seen last night. There was a sad look on this fellow's face as he nursed his mug, sipping at wide intervals.

An inscrutable expression settled on Torstein's face as he kept his word and loosed Baddar's bonds. He gave the Man a small knife he kept on his person as a tool, holding it out by the handle to Baddar. It would serve. Torstein chose to extend unearned trust to Baddar. He looked over to Faaid and Aleesia. "I will return, in time." He said softly and gently. The tall blond male took a shovel from the wagon, and inclined his head to Baddar. "Come. Let us away."

His intent was to go with Baddar beyond the village limits, and once the deed was done, to give the Man as proper a burial as he could given the circumstances. Though his wounds ached and he longed for the balm and solace of prayer, the comforts of a hot meal, and to rest, duty yet remained. Perhaps if their positions were reversed Baddar would have slain them all and left their bodies for scavengers. But it was not what Torstein would do. He wanted to believe that there was some good and some right in what he intended.

"Do you have any wishes about how you are buried?" Torstein asked Baddar.

Baddar took the handle of the offered blade and there was a look in the Man's eyes, like he was thinking about taking his chances stabbing someone. But he didn't. He followed Torstein. When asked, he shook his head. "No."

The two walked for a time, and Baddar found a place. "Here." He stood beneath a tree, and then knelt. The Man briefly prayed, murmuring in his own tongue. When he finished he looked over at Torstein. "About your brother . . . it was a lie. I spoke those words to anger you. Your brother was a man, and a son of men. He died as one. I could not break him. His final words were to forgive me for what I had done to him and to wish that my journey would end in peace and light." Baddar said. Then he lowered his head and thrust the blade into his chest, piercing the heart.

He died quietly and quickly.

The ground where he'd picked was easy to dig up. The place where Baddar chose was beneath a nice tree. Not a bad place to get buried. It didn't take long to dig a proper grave for him and arrange him with some dignity and cover him with earth. But it was dark by the time that Torstein got back to Greenvale.

Things in the inn were in full swing. The locals had come in for their drinks, and a bunch of Legion soldiers, too. Not all of them, and not their Captain, but most.

Faaid sits in the tavern, unusually gloomy.  Had these been ordinary bandits, he would have been joking and singing and making merriment.  But this encounter hit close to home.  His thoughts are on Baddar and what the man has said to him.  He drinks his ale almost mechanically.

If Torstein returns to the tavern, a tankard awaits him, as well as a request to tell Faaid about his brother.  The question is good natured, not intended to pry.  After all, Faaid himself had lost... everything.

---

OOC: Weather cut my hike short, but I might as well take a slow journey back west.

The blond male was tired and aching when he entered the tavern. He returned the rope and shovel to the wagon before he entered the tap room. But inside he took a seat with the group and took a deep draught from the tankard that awaited.

He did not immediately respond to the request that Faaid made of him, but he did not immediately refuse, either.

"I did not like Grondelstein." Torstein began. "He opposed my adoption into the Order. But our elder brother overruled Grondelstein's protests, and we became brothers bound by the blood of the covenant. The doubts and misgivings that Grondelstein harboured about me never abated, and when took up a quest I was glad to see the back of him. The man never spoke a kind word to me."

Torstein raised the palm of his hand to his eyes and wiped them. He took another deep drink.

"I imagine that you will desire to pursue ar-Gohl. If this is true, I wish to accompany you. I am sworn to oppose Evil, and so I must oppose him." Torstein said to Faaid. He was not undone or overwhelmed with grief but the blond male had said all he wished to on the matter. "It would also be good to retrieve the coin. The village could it use to do good for those harmed by the bandits."

"Faaid understands the pain of disappointing family, disagreeing with them.  But Faaid will not pretend to understand the pain of losing a brother.  There is a saying in my native lands.  'Mourn not the rain once it has passed, but be thankful that it was.'  It is admirable that you did not crush Baddar's skull right then and there, a testament to your faith and discipline."  He raises his tankard in a half-toast, closer to a salute.  "Faaid would accept your help in putting down ar-Gohl, but it is not a matter of which to speak lightly.  Let us speak of it no more tonight.  Let it sleep, but not die.  Finding the coin should be our priority, and Faaid will follow you in this endeavor."

Ahvylyn wasn't always at the table with the pair of gloomy men but was often on teh stage singing or telling stories. After a song or two, she'd return to the table to drink a bit then go for another round. The bard seemed to revel in the attention she garnered via her craft. She would also invite Aleesia to accompany her is she wanted to.

However, she happened to be parked behind a tankard of lager while the two were speaking of family and cocked a quizzical look at them, "I'll never understand that. I've probably got at least a dozen siblings rolling around in the world. Who knows how many nieces and nephews! It's been a minute since I was last home. Not that all of them stayed there. Some might even have passed here or there doing something or another. It's not like any of us are close. Well, except Yustyn. Me and him grew up around the same time and got into plenty of trouble together. Wonder if he is still on the farm?" Ahvylyn stopped there and pursed her lips as she thought about the siblings she was aware of. Some of them had been in the house while she was young, others not so. It was a natural ramification of a family that took only a decade or two to mature but spanned centuries of lifetime. Some of the siblings were half-siblings as well since mother and father hadn't spent all of several centuries together either. Still, it was a loosely knit network of relationships. "Still, it sounds like your brothers are family of choice rather than family of blood. I've no experience in that. Enough time in the world and you stop looking beyond yourself." She drained her tankard and then stood to return to the stage, "Everything turns to dust eventually. Still, if there's an adventure in the offing, count me in."

Whether it was her mood or the topic, Ahvylyn began to recount some of the old stories from times before the great war that had destroyed much of the ancient world. Stories of heroes now almost mythological, songs from cultures long turned to dust, and simple songs that might have been sung in bars laid waste in war.

Torstein returned the half-toast to Faaid, and nodded his head in response.

Ahvylyn's words left Torstein in thought. They suggested a wisdom gained through a long life, such as was found in the Elven kin. But Ahvylyn appeared to be of Mannish descent and scarcely his own age, perhaps younger. It was hard to tell with her beauty. And yet she expressed a view that suggested it was earned by the passage of years and decades.

He looked into his tankard and swirled the liquid within around. Torstein wondered if he would ever live long enough to stop looking beyond himself. The blond male hoped that it would not be so. At least, he hoped that in all of the years of his life he would not stop looking beyond himself. If his elder brother had stopped looking beyond himself, Torstein would not have been adopted into the Order, and his life would have certainly taken a very different course. It would be a darker path.

"Such is an elder's wisdom." Torstein mused to Faaid. "And yet, she seems no more ancient than you or I. Less, even." He took another drink and found his tankard empty. He was not eager for more but asked for food to be brought.

The stories that Ahvylyn gave Torstein some comfort. Though nothing on this earth stayed forever, it did not mean all deeds were in vain. The heroes in the stories lived again in the hearts of all who heard the tales, though they were long ago gone to the home of the brave. And even those who were not remembered in song and story . . . their deeds were not in vain. Their deeds and sacrifices allowed for future generations. New men and women of great heart and soul to walk the same earth and live under the same sky.

Torstein smiled a soft, small smile.

"I would include Aleesia in our number as well, though I fear that it may not aid her recovery. But I find her company agreeable and would feel better being at her side until she is herself again." Torstein said softly to Faaid.

Aleesia had been in a sombre mood ever since Torstein had left with Baddar and had come back alone. It didn't seem to be anything against Torstein himself, but she was often pensively looking outside the windows, or in her cup of tea as if it would somehow reveal some big secrets if she started hard enough.

While she readily agreed to play her lyre, that evening even more than the previous one it was obvious that she did so because she enjoyed playing for the music, and couldn't care less about who listened even though anytime someone came to talk to her, she behave impeccably.

When she sat at the table to eat a bite shortly after Ahvylyn had started singing about the heroes of times past, she asked to not one in particular, “How many of those do you think were tyrants, thugs or even worse? How many of those reviled were in fact good men and women who either fought for the wrong side for some reason, or even whose side was in fact in the right in whatever conflict arose?”

Faaid laughs at this remark.  "Faaid believes this to be nothing but the defense of a lonely child, not some great wisdom.  'Everything turns to dust?'  In Faaid's homeland, treasures and remains are found with great frequency, telling stories of the past.  Nothing ever truly dies, my friend.  Isn't that what we're doing here, helping learn about the past?"  He drains his tankard, then orders another.



"This question strikes many truths," Faaid responds, though the question wasn't directed at him.  "Faaid has personally seen what misunderstandings and lies can do, and what pride and honor can lead to.  It is hard to say in the moment which side one is on.  But Faaid believes that the truth will find its way, in one way or another.  Faaid must believe this."  He sits up straight and looks at Aleesia, who seems as gloomy as Faaid himself had been earlier in the evening.  "If you would join us, I aim to ensure at least one tyrant receives his due justice.  And there is a small treasure waiting to outfit us for such a task, not far from here."

Ready for a break, Ahvylyn plunked into her seat to drain her tankard again. Smiling into the paid for but now empty mug, she looked around the table, "There is wisdom in the lives of men and the lives of elves. Dwarves have their own wisdom as do the halflings and even the orcs. Every life is different and worthwhile. Aye, no life is spent in vain. Of course not." She lifted the mug to signal a refill. "The lives of men are rapid, fervent, and filled with vigor. They seek a legacy because they cannot grasp the future themselves. But imagine an elf's life?"

Here Ahvylyn sighed heavily and looked around the room, "Imagine living so long you have seen and recall faces, names, cities, kingdoms that exist only in your memory and books? Imagine being one of the few that remembers the day standing atop the battlements of Dros Delnoch when the last walls fell and staring down your doom only... to survive when thousands, millions did not? Aye, I spent a good amount of my youth in the Great Forest traveling with Dusk Elves or sitting beneath the First Tree with the Silver Elves. I learned the wisdom they carry as much as it is possible to do so."

She looked to Faaid now, "And I traveled in your land as well." She turned her gaze to Torstein, "And yours." She smiled as her cup was refilled, "I have traveled nearly everywhere the lights shines still. Each place has its wisdom and life is always worth living. After all, I have made it my life's work to collect all the stories of the world, to dance the steps of every dance I can, and to enjoy it until the last moment. I owe that much at least. So perhaps my wisdom is not one of years, but a type of experience none-the-less?" Smacking her lips, she winks at the three, "I chose to live in this moment and none other."

She went back to sing another song.

Faaid's words made Torstein feel that he had not expressed himself as he wished to. He was no great orator, and no philosopher as well, so he did not press the issue. He wanted to talk about how the great things of the past were no more - the grand alliance of all Kins fallen into mistrust and ill will, the great walls of Dros Delnoch in disrepair, and the fallen Kingdoms of Men. But then, there had to have been a time before such things even existed. Someone had to raise them up. And perhaps here Faaid's words rang truest. Be grateful that something was, not sorrowful that it has passed.

Torstein tried, but despite his best efforts, he could not imagine such a long life. He imagined that it would be very joyful or very sad. Very joyful, because such a long life promised so many sunrises and so many new experiences. Very sad, because so many friends and loved ones had taken the swan's path. Or perhaps both? It was heady stuff for Torstein.

Still he was perplexed by Ahvylyn's Mannish beauty. She showed little evidence of Elvish blood yet she spoke of dwelling among the Dusk and Silver Elves. It was not impossible to him that one of Mannish descent might be welcome. But surely to learn from them in any capacity would take a very long time.

He let out a breath.

"Some lives are lost in vain. Senseless, wasteful tragedy." He murmured to himself more than to the others.

And there was Aleesia's question. Surely some of those remembered as heroes were not as the songs made them. And the same for those cast in the role of villain. It was a truism that history was written by the victor, and victory was too often won by force of arms. Many wars were draped in the clothing of righteousness, to hide that they were waged for purely material concerns justified or not. Indeed Torstein had heard it said that even the Legend himself was remembered in the main because he was the greatest killer of his age and of no particular virtue. Torstein did not want to believe that. He did not believe that the Legend was, as some tales claimed, a pure-hearted saint utterly free of sin and Evil. For that to be true the Legend could not have been a man. Torstein preferred to believe that the Legend was simply a good man. That was enough.

"I will retire for the night. On my way I shall speak to Atrocles, and inform him that we wish to proceed on our venture." Torstein told those at the table. Then he took the remains of his meal to finish in his room, ascending the stairs and seeking out the sage before he did as he said he would.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:51, Tue 26 Oct 2021.

Fora time, it didn't seem like Aleesia was going to answer Faaid, as she was pensively playing with her cup of tea. And when she did speak, it was to ask another question, though luch like the previous ones, it wasn't aimed at any one specifically. Maybe she was just thinking aloud. “But if the truth comes out, will we recognise it, or will it be spurned? After all, isn't the truth already known?”

Shaking her head after a few seconds, she finally focused on the human. “What kind of tyrant?” She grimaced slightly, “As you have no doubt seen, my skills are not ones that are particularly useful in a fight. In a few decades, maybe,” She shrugged “But right now...” She shook her head.

As if she had thought of something else, she asked something entirely different. “The language that man used with you before... Is it the one from where you come from?”

Atrocles wasn't happy with the news that Torstein brought him, but he wasn't about to argue with the warrior, either. He promised to pay out what he owed to everyone in the morning the next day. And he proved true to his word. Atrocles also hoped that when they'd finished their personal business they'd reconsider protecting him and his students. But he didn't push the matter, and wished them well.

The tree the coins were buried under was far enough away from town that the group'd need to camp out for the night. Atrocles was kind enough to offer to loan them tents to use during their trek, no doubt hoping he'd get into their good graces. If they didn't want to take him up on it, the general store had some tents for sale at reasonable prices, and a ready supply of rations and supplies as they'd need for an overnight stay.

It wasn't hard to find the white tree the half-orc mentioned. There weren't any other trees like it nearby. The milky white bark and leaves made it an easy landmark. It wasn't difficult to dig up the strong box, either. There was a lock on it, but it was of poor quality. Good enough to keep out the average person, but Ahvylyn and Faaid possessed enough skill to pick it with ease. Within was a variety of coins, from all over the place, and bits of hacksilver. Most of the coins were minted in silver, but there were a dozen in gold.

The blond male elected to accept Atrocles' offer of loaning equipment, and it was his intention to return to the scholar's aid once the coin was retrieved and Faaid's hunt was completed. He told the scholar that he, at least, intended to return to guard the expedition, but also indicated that he was uncertain as to how long the endeavor they now engaged in might take. Torstein also elected to purchase rations for some few days from the general store.

When the group arrived at their destination, Torstein dug. Despite the injuries he had suffered, now healing, his was the strongest back and it made the most sense for him to engage in the task. He did it without asking any of the others to do so.

The white tree was an oddity to Torstein. It must have been purposefully planted here, he reckoned, and he wondered whence the seed might have come from. He glanced upwards, and pursed his lips. His brow furrowed.

The coins were of little interest to Torstein. He was not concerned with worldly gains, and could not effectively manage the wealth they had uncovered to see it used to its best ends. For his part, he was inclined to entrust the money to the village headman and allowing him to see it effectively used to benefit the community.

"Do you see the white crow perched yonder?" Torstein asked, and pointed to where the creature stood perched. "It has followed us for most of the day. Is it not strange?" The High Man asked of his companions. He was not unfamiliar with the carrion birds, but he was no student of nature and did not know them to follow small groups. Armies, perhaps, for the creatures possessed some cunning and craftiness and could learn that large groups of fighters meant a meal was in the works. And how rare must an albino be?

Aleesia had followed, a bit doubtfully, clearly not quite sure she was there for the good reasons: it was mostly that she didn't really have anywhere else to go at the moment, and Atrocles wasn't terribly likely to do anything for her. Plus, while she had changed her mind a bit seeing how he had reacted to Persen's adventure, she still didn't have a particularly good opinion of the man, at least regarding the way he treated his apprentices… and she wouldn't be able to pretend at anything more than that at the moment if she were to ask him for employment.

The promise of riches didn't seem to hold a lot of sway for her either: not that she would refuse any that came her way, but it didn't seem to be a huge motivation as far as she was concerned. But in the absence of better options, Aleesia followed. Plus, who knew: she might learn interesting things and maybe make herself useful at some point. How silly had she been to leave home so soon… Her mother had been right: she should have waited a couple of decades more and hone her skills before she considered going out to see the world.

Maybe because of that she offered to help Torstein dig for the treasure - the old fashion way since she didn't have any magic for that - even though she wouldn't have been able to do all that much by herself.

While at first she had seemed unconcerned when the coins had been revealed, she soon knelt on the ground and carefully picked the dozen gold coins and placed them, face up, on one hand. The way she did it, it was obvious that it wasn't for the value of the coins, and that she didn't intend to claim them for herself, but there was something that caught her attention. Her head tilted to the side, she considered them for a long time, lost in thought.

Until Torstein mentioned a white crow anyway. At that, her head abruptly pivoted to the side to look at the crow for a few seconds. The way her gaze navigated from one to the others a couple of time made it quite clear that she seemed to see a connection there, one that, given her troubled frown, very obviously puzzled her.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:37, Thu 28 Oct 2021.

Ahvylyn was always game to go along when adventure was in the offing. And the collection of a treasure and slaying of a mortal enemy tempted her greatly. It was a hard decision between that and the room and board her stories were gaining her now, but she tore herself away from that temptation for a very good reason: she didn't want to be tempted into settling. Ahvylyn's feet had always been heavy; she expected that came from her father who loved the sedentary farmer's life. Truth told: her mother had been little different if adventurous in her own way. No, it was an oath she had taken that uprooted her each time. A few memories of a time and a place and words spoken were all it took to shake off whatever dust had been collecting and move on.

Plus, this way, there were very few outside her family that knew her origins. Generally, by the time she got back around to any particular village, no one recalled her or associated her looks with the woman who had been there decades before. The few times she had been recognized, she'd just passed it off as a resemblance to a distant relation. Ahvylyn was always careful to hide her longevity. At least among men, she preferred it that way. Elves and other long lived sorts were harder to trick. They tended to be able to spot the wisdom of years.

Ahvylyn watched askance as the others began to dig and drifted away from the labor slowly. When no objection was made, she found a place to sit and began to sing softly. Her fingers moved as if plucking a lute though she possessed no such instrument and her eyes were focused on the distant horizon as she sang an ancient lullaby of the first men. As she sang, faces she had not seen in many of the lifetimes of men floated through her mind. As each made their way, the notes she sang grew more melancholy. She found she had shifted from lullabies to a Drenai dirge with similar note structures.

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs, she noted Aleesia looking at something with piqued interest and grew curious but not before Torstein spotted the raven. This she regarded with naked curiosity and tried to recall having seen such a one before.

Faaid nods at this.  "Yes, it was the language of my lands.  Baddar spoke in a dialect Faaid knows, but not of my own.  Now, we should attend to other matters, such as preparing for our small expedition.  If you wish to know more, Faaid could teach you a few phrases.  It is truly a beautiful language."

---

Along the journey, Faaid seemed to have his spirit back.  He hummed frequently, sometimes with a little skip in his step.  Those who had seem him sulking at the tavern might think he was posturing for effect.  Nonetheless, he traveled with some semblance of joy.

Money was a fine motivation for a man such as he.  After all, coin could buy power.  Coin could buy weapons and armor.  Coin could buy a fine evening at a tavern.  And each coin brought him closer to his goals.  Though at the rate he spent it, it was unlikely he made any such progress.

Upon finding the coin, Faaid begins filling his pouches and sack with as much as he could carry (and as much as was left by his companions).  He is surprised when the others are not quite as enthusiastic, but does not let this deter him from his earnings.  Content with what he had collected, he looks up to find his companions staring at that odd albino crow that had been following them for most the day.  "Faaid has been watching it, though it has not been hostile and has been keen on Aleesia.  Faaid assumed it was with her; so many of the old stories talk about odd animals following those who can use magicks.  Is this not the case?"  He turns to Aleesia, eyebrow cocked.

Looking back at the crow, he thinks long and hard about his own experiences with birds, and if he'd ever seen one like this.  He also considers that this might not be a normal beast, but some sort of magical creature.

---

10:41, Today: Faaid rolled 118 using 1d100+30.  Nature (Challenging).

Aleesia smiled, tilted her head to the side, focusing for a couple of second. “I'm pretty sure I don't need you to teach me.” She answered in that very language with a slight smile. She was obviously proficient, her grammar perfect, but still spoke haltingly as if it took her some effort to remember the exact words.

And through it all, she seemed confused, as if she had no idea where any of that was coming from.

---

“I remember.” Aleesia said quietly after a few seconds following Faaid's question. She wasn't looking at the bird though, her eyes instead fixed on the coins, while her thumb brushed one of them. “I was there when those were first minted. I remember...” She glanced briefly at Torstein, “He was the First King of the First Kingodm of the High Men.” She indicated the face on the coins with her chin.

“I used those, when they were still new. I was in the marketplace, buying... Wine I think? There were High Men and Star Elves all around, everything was cheerful.” She continued, obviously lost in the memory. “One of them, a Star Elf, was with me. He was...” She turned her head to look at the crow, “He had an albino crow, perched on his shoulder.”

“But...” She frowned, “That's impossible...” While she didn't sound worried, she certainly sounded puzzled now, “I'm as young as I look. _{Younger than I look in fact...} There's no way I could remember any of that.”

Faaid's knowledge and experiences of birds carried beyond those of his homeland and into other lands. Beyond the albinism and slightly larger than normal size, there was nothing to the outward appearance of the crow that observed the group to suggest it was some sort of magical creature. The red eyes that watched them seemed, perhaps, more focused and intelligent than Faaid's experiences in the past suggested.

For Torstein it was good to see Faaid back in good spirits. The blond warrior did not have it in him to independently think that Faaid could be putting a false front of joyfulness.

He declined Aleesia's offer to help when asked. He tried not to let the melancholy of Ahvylyn's tune affect his mood, but he was not able to. The power of her song caused his heart to hang low. It was so very moving.

Faaid's words made Torstein frown, but he could not think long on that matter for Aleesia began to speak. Her words gave him pause and made him worry for the state of her mind. Though she was not worried, he was. Had the encounter with bandits that had preceded finding her unhinged her or caused a deeper trauma than suspected? It was beyond Torstein to assess such things. She spoke of a time place well before his own - more than ten thousand years past.

Surely the bird that watched them could not be the same one that Aleesia 'remembered.' One of Elven blood could live for thousands of years, but surely no mere animal could survive such a long passage of years. And if it was impossible for Aleesia to remember such things, as she said . . . was the sight of such a thing causing her mind to create false memories?

"Are you certain, Aleesia?" Torstein asked gently, and took a few steps closer to the Dusk Elf female. He looked at the coins in her hand and at the face upon them. The workmanship was remarkable for something so base as coinage; he could easily imagine the man whose face those coins bore. The library of his order had only fragments about the First King of the High Men. A man of great heart and a soul that shone as bright as the morning star. And yet the Pale Son of Night had struck him down, and like the Legend, his name had not survived into the modern day.

"When we found you . . . you appeared to have lost yourself. Could it not be that you are more lost than you know?" The tread softly with his words, showing concern for Aleesia as he asked the question and broached this possibility. The concern that he might say something that might hurt Aleesia was plain upon his features, and he felt keenly the limits of his sheltered upbringing in the fortress-monastery of the warrior-monks of his order. He knew little of the nature of the Elven Kins. "Elvenkind are imperishable. Could it not be that you are older than you believe?"

Ahvylyn has shifted forward from her seated position into a couched. She occasionally waddled a few inches closer to the bird while staring at it intensely. She occasionally tilted her head this way or that in a sort of mimic of a bird's habits. The ridge of her brow furrowed deeply here and again. Finally, she sprang up and rocked back on the balls of her feet before turning to look at the group surrounding Aleesia, "elven minds are built differently from humans'. Hmm, though I have not met many elves that actually persisted for 10,000 years, I have spent time among the longer-lived races. Their memories seem to work differently. They have a lot more things to recall, after all."

Thus spoken, she paced closer to Aleesia to peer at her along with the rest of the crowd. She had not been there when the woman was found nor had she ever met Aleesia, to her own recollections. "I never thought to ask you. do you know your people, Aleesia? You are quite obviously a dusk elf, yes, but from what tribe? I've known most in my wa-" Even as she asked the question, she glanced down at the coins and stopped mid-sentence. She crouched down next to the elf and quickly snatched up a coin, "Oh, now that IS something 10,000 years old. Lost to history? Hmm, I don't seem to recall his name as a matter of fact. Odd. I knew it once I am sure. Perhaps in a dream? This coin should not be in this state. Not unless it lay among someone's private collection for quite some time. No tarnish from handling, no stains from being buried in the earth. No chips, scratches, or other blemishes. Very unusual artifacts. Worth way more than their weights. Either for the mystery of them or their academic value should you ask the stodgy professor. I've not seen their like in some time."

“I'm sure yes.” Aleesia first answered Torstein. For a moment, it was all she said. “I'm certain that I remember that market, the coins, the crow... But. I'm also sure that I was born...uh...not that long ago,” It didn't seem that she had troubles remembering when exactly there, more like she wasn't exactly comfortable saying exactly when, “and I remember all that happened in between then and now, including my family, yes.”

“I remembered that market before I saw the crow, so I can't have invented it. And,” she lifted one hand, on a finger of which there was a signet ring, “I could hardly invent that either.”

“Both seem real, but they're mutually exclusive, one has to be wrong.” She sounded...more confused, puzzled, than scared though. “Unless of course, the memories of that market aren't mine, but I somehow got them.”

“I'm... Well, that's not terribly likely either.”

Faaid furrows his brow.  These two women, talking as though they were countless generations old, or at least held the memories of those ages.  Sure, one was an elf, the other was maybe a half-blood?  Elves had not been common in his lands, likely because each day being a struggle was hard enough for short-lived folks.  "Coin is coin," he mumbles to himself, clearly far less concerned with the age of the pieces.

"Well, Faaid believes that the crow must be an omen, or a foe.  It has been acting far too cleverly to be just a bird, as it would not have followed us this far.  If neither of you recall having such a pet (and it would seem your memory, Allesia, is far from perfect), then we should try to do something about it.  Baddar had connections to that dog ar-Gohl, and it is possible this bird does too.  That bastard could be watching Faaid as we speak..."

Lyn frowned deeply up at Faaid. A second later, the frown melted into something blank of emotion then brightened, "Correct. More or less. Coin is coin, of course. These, however, are artifacts. Not coins. And artifacts are worth a lot of money to certain mind. For instance, how did these bandits get ahold of these artifacts? I assure you, these have not been being passed around the hands of the minions of the Pale Son for 10,000 years."

Smiling, Ahvylyn turned back to Aleesia and reached out to grab her hand that bore the ring. Smiling apology for grabbing, Ahvylyn nevertheless pulled the hand close to inspect the ring. She was curious about this woman who claimed to hold the memories of two people. "Reincarnation, perhaps? A possessing spirit?" Even as she said the second thing, she looked up at the white bird and considered the last times she had seen such things. Of the two categories it fell into, the later seemed to apply to this situation. She'd need to spent time in the palace later trying to recall the details. She then looked at the ring again and spent a few moments committing its details to her memory. Perhaps her family had something to do with all this.

A mystery was ever so interesting.

Eventually, she smiled apology at Aleesia and stood to look at the group, "Aye, let's be about finding your foe. Would anyone be bothered if I mind these gold coins, though? I'll fetch us a handsome price for them." She didn't mind stooping to grab a few of the far more common silver though and filling a small purse. More than enough for a few weeks room and board.