<b>Pegawen turned to Allassiel, the two of them speaking quickly in Sindarin before Allassiel shook her head and replied. She then leaned back against the window frame, one long leg swinging back and forth. She closed her eyes as though preparing for sleep, but her lips moved silently. </b><br/><br/>“<b>I do not know of such a thing,” Pegawen noted “and Allassial is also unfamiliar with it. The only stones we've ever dealt with are the pieces fashioned by dwarven craftsmen into jewelry, or those placed in sword hilts by elven weaponsmiths.” She furrowed her brow, her slender fingers tapping together as she considered this newest bit of information. “If anyone would have known of such a thing, it would be them.”</b><br/><br/><b>Pegawen stared over at the window for a moment, then smiled. </b>“<b>Allassiel is quite adept at the forges, she practically grew up in front of one. She's trying to recall if she'd ever seen such a stone, though I fear it will come to naught.”</b><br/><br/><b>Allassiel opened one eye to stare at Pegawen and shook her head before resuming her contemplation.</b><br/><br/>“<b>For now, however,” Pegawen continued, as she stood and smoothed the wrinkles from her robes, “I imagine you wish to rest, Master Timberlane, if we are going to travel on the morrow.” She inclined her head to him, before turning to Lotharn. “And I should wish to speak with my kinsman before then, if he wishes.”</b>