Arwin and the Iron Coin

Our party of adventurers parted from Francios Marchant, and went back to the nearby tavern.  The only tavern in the small town of Toulon.  It was named the Greedy Goblin, and a wooden sign out front featured a rough painting of a green-colored goblin sitting on a pile of gold coins.

They secured several rooms, and set about following the advice of the Priest of Kempin.  Eat, drink, and rest.  And each did so in their own unique way.

Arwin, for his part, was looking for a bit of action.  A way to make some easy coin, without drawing attention to himself or the party.  He sat in various places in the tavern, eavesdropping.  The fourth place he sat within the hour, was a dark corner furthest from the fire.  Two men were sitting at a nearby table, and Arwin heard them speaking in what sounded like thieves cant.

"Thinking like shiny, that one.  But bracelets and bars, or randy virgin? I'm wise on this."  (Sounds like a money-making job.  But, are we likely to get caught...or is it a sure thing?  I'm just trying to be cautious.)

"Certifiably randy.  I read the book.  Man married in.  We're flush."  (No, I promise it is a sure thing.  I've planned it out.  And we have an inside man.)

"Rukeday portions?"  (Does everyone get an even cut of the profits?)

"Yuh.  Rukeday portions, but the priest gets his tithing."  (Yes.  Even split, after I get 10% off the top for planning the job.)

Arwin was about to approach the two men, and introduce himself.  See if he couldn't get in on the job.  Maybe they could use a little more manpower.  And then he heard it.  It was a whisper in his mind...the hoarse voice of the horrible witch woman in the woods.  "No harm, no foul.  I don't hold you responsible for all that mayhem.  I want to make a deal with you."

Arwin winced.  He whispered quietly enough that no one could hear him.  "I want nothing to do with you."

"Ah...too late for that.  I slipped you my iron coin.  You're going to bring me back...and in return...I'll reward you much more handsomely than any little heist or robbery is going pay."

Arwin scoffed.  "You didn't slip me an iron coin.  I don't know what you are even talking about."

"Reach in your pocket...check your purse."

Arwin slipped his hand into his coin purse, and pulled out his coins, careful to not make it obvious to anyone else in the tavern.  He cupped them in his hand and looked over them, flipping them over with a finger.  "You crazy old crone, I don't...."  And then he saw it.

Among the gold and silver coins, a single iron one, crudely cast and stamped.  It was ugly, and just the sight of it made Arwin feel sick to his stomach.   Why hadn't he notices this crude piece of iron before?  He mumbled to himself, "What the hell."