“Wots this then?” the customs inspector pulled a bit of junk from the sack of junk Thorg had dumped on the desk.
Spannael, being patted down by a surly guard, leaned over to look at it.
“Nothing, innit? Just a bit o’ shine from that tomb we found, right Thorg?”

Thorg grimaced as another guard completed what had been a very spirited cavity search.
“Right, s’nuffin.” he mumbled, pulling up his chainmail drawers.

The inspector eyed the finely worked metal sphere, then shrugged and tossed in back with the rest of the two adventurers’ treasure.

“Right then, sign the register and push off.”
-—
Later, at the Inn of the Broken Raven, Spannael turned the sphere over in his fingers. Beside him, Thorg shifted uncomfortably on his stool.

“You know mate, I think there might be more to this bit o’ pretty than meets the eye.”

Thorg grimaced.

“Cor’, you reckon? Like wot?”

Sammael pressed at the tiny jewels embedded in the sphere, there was a click -

“BEHOLD THE ORACLE OF ZAH-ASLIIN! ASK, AND KNOW THE FUTURE!”