Yesterday an elf gave me a vial of green liquid. It smells terrible, but the taste is not too bad. She told me that it would help me sleep and she was quite correct. I slept straight through the night and long into the morning as well. Unfortunately, this potion does not seem to ward away the dreams for I saw them many times during my slumber. Still, I was unable to free myself of them via waking and perhaps this is for the best. If I face it often enough then maybe it shall no longer wake me. Maybe it will simply join the rest of my bad memories and stop torturing me so. I hope this is the case for there is little enough of that liquid to keep me out at night.
I feel more alert now, though. My thoughts are clearer now, which perhaps will aid me in considering the occurances of last night.
As Bearn and I were speaking before bed, there came a knock at the door. It was nearing midnight by then and it was clear that visitors were not expected, especially not so late. I, however, thought little of it as I assumed it would be Adaryn and Jairyth who stay there sometimes.
Instead, two strange men entered. I am distrustful of strangers at the best of times, but something about this pair set my teeth on edge.
The dark-skinned one, Jaerl, I think, seems to me a walking contradiction. He is all easy smiles, honeyed words and has an air of superiority. However, he acts as a servant to the other man and whilst he speaks a lot, he gives little away. His smiles, whilst not forced, seem hollow to me and his charm is unsettling. He is smooth. Too smooth.
The other, Aien or something to that effect, shrouds himself in secrecy. For such a large man, he conducts himself with a graceful delicacy that speaks of fine breeding. He would appear to expect the other to see to his needs without request or prompt and whilst he speaks little, what he does say is designed to deflect questions posed to him and turn the conversation back toward what he wishes to know. He carried a blade but whilst I did not get a good look at it, still it appeared to be well used, as if its bearer has put it to good effect on many an occasion.
They gave a story about having found Bearns coinpurse in the inn and brought it to his house in order to return it. Whilst they did, indeed, give Bearn his purse back, I found the entire scenario to be questionable. It was clear that they had met him in the Inn and expected to be there on the morrow. Likewise, they spoke of expecting to see him there too, so why ask around in order to learn the address of me benefactor and bring his property to him? Why not wait until the future meeting they expected to share? For that matter, why bring it at such a late hour, and why as a pair when Aien clearly knows how to handle himself?
Once the item was returned, they asked for refreshements. Bearn, as ever, was accomodating although I could tell that he was little more comfortable than I with the situation. Their job done at such a late hour, their wish to stay a while made little sense. In truth, them coming at all at such a time of night made little sense to me, but staying a time made less. They should have been abed themselves, not walking the roads in search of a house belonging to a man they barely know.
All of it bothers me. All that they said, all that they did, leaves me with a feeling of unknown threat. Perhaps it is just me, perhaps my distrust has turned to paranoia. I cannot shake the idea that something here is not as it seems, that there is more to be revealed.
