A Life's Worth

Making a Promise

Eloriel stormed through Recliffe, not caring where she was going. The people around scattered away from just one look of her face. Her silence was what scared people the most, until they saw the pure anger in her eyes.

He lied! He didn't tell me! He should've told me! Why didn't he tell me? Does he not know that to be in a group, you at least need to be honest and have trust?

"Eloriel, wait!" Alistair called out to her, barely catching up to her.

Her speed doubled at the sound of his voice.

He couldn't trust me! He's just like any other shemlen!

"Eloriel!"

She slammed her fist into a door, making wide open, and charged in, shutting the door behind her. She quickly did all the locks and barricaded it with a chair. She heard pounding on the door, and in response, kicked it. A crash was heard behind and she cursed herself as she realized that people actually live in the tiny boxes. She slowly turned around to were a stout, bearded, aged man stood, looking he just saw a whole village explode in front of his eyes.

"Avoiding the ol' mayor too, eh?" he grunted, putting on a calm face. He held a beefy hand out to her and she cautiously shook it.

These greetings are so strange.

"I'm the blacksmith in this here village. Nothing much to look at, until nighttime that is, but you ain't gonna wanta see that, so I suggest you go on ahead." He then looked at the floor. "We'll all die tonight."

Eloriel slightly stepped forward. "Excuse me, but did you say the mayor? He's trying to harm you?"

"Nah, that man has got too much honor to do that. No, I'm afraid he'll bash his way in here, demanded I repair the militia's weapons and armor." He chuckled. "That militia ain't worth saving, they couldn't even promise to rescue my daughter."

"Your daughter? What happened to her? What's going on?"

The man looked shock and he took another bottle of ale and held it out to her.

"No thank you, I don't want to poison myself."

"It ain't poison if it saves ya." He took the bottle and uncapped it, taking a big swig, burping seconds later. He groaned as he sat on his stool and made a fist as he pounded on his lap. "The mayor, he demands that I help him and he says he'll help me. Well when I ask for a favor he does nothin'. Nothin' I say! That lying bastard!"

"Damn all lying bastards," Eloriel murmured in agreement.

"They've got my darling girl up in that castle, those dead men do. The mayor says he wants to save his people? Well one of his people is trapped in that castle and he won't do nothin'!" He choked out a sob. "My poor girl. I-if I lose her, I lose everything. My wife's already dead, I've got no other children, and I'm gettin' to old to craft a sword that will be sharp and straight enough to strike. The only reason I keep this ol' forge is cause ain't nobody else here knows how to pick up a hammer."

"You're the only one who knows his way around the forge?" Eloriel asked in disbelief.

"That's why the mayor's so desperate. Not enough to save my girl though."

"She's in the castle, right?" Eloriel asked, rubbing her chin. "I think I can get her."

The blacksmith jumped up from his chair in shock. "You'd do that? For me?"

"Yeah, I'll show that bastard up."

His face instantly turned serious. "You promise?"

"Of course."

"Do you really promise that you'll go and save my daughter, no matter what?"

"Sir, I already have my word, I have a full intention to carry it out."

The man shook her hand again but more vigorously and with both his hands. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

Weren't we already greeted? Why is he shaking my hand again? Now with two hands? Is this the goodbye form?

"Thank me when you hold your daughter in your arms again," she said with a smile.

"You know what?" the man asked aloud. "If you're going to go to the castle, you'll need backup. This milita ain't gonna help with it's shabby arms and armor. I'll open the smithy again, just for you, my friend."

Shems.... Humans use the term 'friend' loosely, don't they?

"Thank you...friend."

"Thank me when your troops are better fitted to fight alongside you."

Eloriel laughed with the man before heading out the door, soon ending up smacking into another man, much younger, and also bearded, not ginger, but a dark brown this time.

"My apologizes," he said before moving past her and into the smithy.

She heard a couple of yells in the room and worried if the man was getting hurt. She about rammed her way back in when the younger of the two stepped out. When he spotted Eloriel, who was right in front of him.

"Oh, I didn't see you there," he told her with a sympathetic smile.

I'm not that short!

"It's almost as if you're a dwarf!

I reach your stinking neck! A dwarf would reach your stomach!

"I'm a not a dwarf," Eloriel corrected behind gritted teeth.

"I know, you're that elf that convinced the blacksmith to open up!" He patted her of the shoulder. "Well done!"

He's treating me as if I'm a dumb pet of his....

"Yes, well I promised to save his daughter."

"Ha! You lied your way through!"

What on Thedas is he picturing me as? One of the shems?

"No, I'm going to save her," she said courageously.

"Oh, so you're a fool?" He sighed. "Well, you can't persuade a looney to drop the weapon, just let him kill himself."

Dread Wolf, take this insufferable man.

"You'll want to go see the Ban," the man said, pointing at a large building that resembled another one in Lothering. "He's in there."

"No, I need to talk to the mayor, not a Ban."

"I'm afraid I have to train the milita, we can speak afterwards," the man said, walking off.

That's the mayor?!