The tavern was much like any other of its ilk, differing solely in name alone. The place was called the Midnight Star, and it reeked of spilled wine gone stale, of years of wood smoke, of too many bodies that were too infrequently washed packed in too small an area. The walls were pocked with numerous scars, some of strange origin, and the roughly hewn tables and chairs carried their own brands. The clientele was a widely varied lot. Some, including a large group of guards from a recently arrived caravan, were loud and boisterous, more interested with quaffing ale and quizzick than with whatever foodstuff the innkeeper might be able to produce. For others present, the concerns were exactly the opposite, case in point being a trio sitting quietly at a corner table, listening to the harried and oft-pinched serving girl list the available fare.
     "Well, there's a mutton chop, mutton stew, mutton and cheese, fried mutton bits, filet of mutton, mutton sausage . . ." Cheslen, a massive youth with an unruly shock of black hair, shook his head. "Reckon we're in sheep country, eh?" From across the table, his two companions each gave him tiny negative shakes of the head. The obvious, Rell thought, the boy always has to state the obvious.
     Eyes closed, straining to remember, the serving girl continued on, either oblivious to the interruption or, more likely, not caring all that much. " . . . braised shank of mutton with leeks and shallots in a white wine sauce." She stopped, and opened her eyes. "Oh! I almost forgot. We also have some griffin eggs. So, what will you have?"
     Cheslen looked wide-eyed first at Ellia, who tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shrugged, and then at Rell, who was already in full scowl. Turning to the girl, he said, "I'll have the griff-"
     Rell slapped his hand on the table. "Pah! Don't be such a damned fool, boy! There are no such things as griffin eggs. Just the innkeeper's way of charging you more for simple chicken eggs." Fixing the serving girl with a glower, he said, "Three chops, and ale. Griffin's eggs, indeed."
     Looking a bit miffed, the girl turned to leave. "I just deliver the food, sir."
     Rell smiled sourly. "Perhaps if you weren't still here talking, you could deliver it a bit more quickly."
     Eyes narrowing, she turned and left. A few seconds later, Rell jumped. "Blast, Ellia, what did you do that for?"
     Ellia regarded him with a lopsided smirk. "You were a little rough on her, old man." She paused to reset her lute case, which had shifted slightly on the bench beside her. "She's just doing her job."
     Cheslen nodded, leaning forward. "And why do you think there are no such things as griffin eggs?"
     Rell looked at both of them, then sighed and rubbed at the spot between his eyes. "As Ellia was kind enough to bring up, I'm a great deal older than the two of you. I've seen more, done, more, and been to more places than the two of you combined. I've seen things that I couldn't adequately describe, but even if I could, you probably wouldn't believe me anyway." He stopped as the girl returned and placed three mugs on the table with a heavy clunk, leaving without a word. Grabbing one and drinking deeply, Rell licked his lips and leaned towards Cheslen. "Now listen, boy, because I'm going to teach you something. You may be quite a bit stronger than our songbird friend here but she's got you beat between the ears. Griffins do not lay eggs. I tell you this as fact."
     Chelsen reached for a mug but didn't drink. Looking at Rell uneasily, he said, "So what do they do, appear out of thin air? Do they come screaming and clawing out of a womb as I did from my mother? Does a little baby griffin clamber from the bones of its parents?"
     Rell smiled. "No, but those are good questions, lad. A baby griffin comes not from an egg, but from an agate."
     Brows furrowed. "An agate?"
     "An agate. A large precious stone. The mother passes it as a chicken would an egg, but no egg could be as valuable as this."
     Cheslen rocked slightly on his bench. "A clutch of those 'eggs' could provide a person for life."
     Rell snorted. "Maybe so, but what fool would try to collect them? A griffin in a normal fight is a mighty foe. A mother defending her brood would be worse still. Still, your thinking shows promise. It could be that you'll be an apt student after all."
     Ellia stirred. "Then tell us this, oh wise teacher, what laid the first agate? How came forth the first griffin? Was it an accident from some other creature, or did a griffin somehow just . . . come to be, and start making little gemstone surprises?"
     Rell opened his mouth to answer, then shut it. Opened it again, then paused. He closed his eyes as if deep in thought, his upper lip jerking with irritation as Ellia whispered in his ear, "Which came first, the griffin or the agate?"
     From across the room came the sounds of men yelling and furniture breaking. The noise level, already obtrusive, quickly grew to an ear-shattering roar as the inn collapsed into chaos. Ellia and Rell ducked under the table while Cheslen chose to stand before it. Rell opened his mouth to speak, but Ellia shook her head and shouted, "Can't hear a thing in here!" Rell, most pleased with the interruption, grinned.   §