A small figure moved furtively in the dim light of the early morning. Heavily burdened, it stopped at the bottom of the stairs and quickly rummaged through the pack it carried. 

It pulled out a perfectly round, extremely heavy ball and placed it at the foot of the stairs. 

Unencumbered, it ran to one of the storage rooms of the Inn of the Prancing Pony. 

"Did you get it?" breathed an excited voice.

"Yes."

There was much muffled excitement and a small crowd of figures circled around the pack.