"Elves that look like devils?"
The two adventurers' conversation soon drew everyone's attention. Someone called out, "Hey, buddy, you're making that up, aren't you? We've all seen elves, and everyone's heard of tieflings. But elves that look like devils? I don't believe that!"
"Alma must have been seeing things. He probably mistook tieflings for elves."
Everyone chimed in.
"I don't know whether he saw them right." The adventurer who had first brought up the subject grew impatient and motioned for everyone to hear him out. "But here's the thing: Alma said that after those elves left, he made himself a tidy little fortune right there. Every one of those elves was filthy rich! They tossed gold, silver, and big pearls around like nothing. Alma struck it lucky that day. He just searched the place where they'd stopped and found things worth dozens of gold coins!"
"Whoa, really?"
"Elves, all right. Every last one of them rolling in money."
"Damn it, Tymora above! That bastard Alma really lucked out."
Sure enough, within seconds, the mercenaries and adventurers had forgotten the original topic. They were all drooling over someone else's good fortune.
Eventually, someone noticed that Aaron was listening. The fat mercenary leading the group turned and gave him an apologetic smile. An axe and a sword hung at his left hip, and a scimitar at his right. All manner of things dangled from his body-clattering cups, daggers, clubs, and assorted small tools. He looked like a walking armory.
He had a thick beard and a vicious-looking face. He had been about to ask where Alma was now, but upon noticing Aaron listening, he swallowed the question. "Keep your voices down, you lot. Making a fuss over a few dozen gold coins-you'll have His Lordship the Kingmaker laughing at us."
"My name