“Tell me! Did you see her fall? YES OR NO!” he seethed. Beset by alarm, worry, panic, desperation, failure, regret, guilt and downright anger at himself for letting her go, he looked down at the man, who could barely stand he was that exhausted, and as Furley pointed his sword underneath the man’s chin, every sinew in his body fought within itself to choose the course of action.
Kill him. He deserves to die. He failed her.
What are you doing? The poor man’s barely alive. You do not even know fully who he is and what he knows.
He was with Deorla, and now she’s dead. Finish him. Send him to join her on the other side so he can explain to her his failings first hand.
You don’t even know she’s dead. You can’t do this!
“Furley, what are you doing? He’s defenceless. Give me the sword”.
Chewing his lip, he bit it so hard that blood seeped a little, running down his chin and staining his teeth. In front of him, the man who had passed out was now awake and lay at Furley’s knees. He looked up at Furley, with no expression in his eye bar mistrust, and what seemed a tinge of disappointment at the man he beheld. Within him, Furley was already losing the battle, and the voice of Altheric called to him, like a ray of sun bursting through the clouds and dampening the fire within him with reason.
“Furley, this isn’t you. Give me the sword” the Commander repeated, reaching into Furley’s palm, and taking it from his ever-loosening fingers. He didn’t snatch it nor take it aggressively, and in the end, that’s what almost broke Furley’s will and the familiar rage dissipated almost in one breath out.
Looking around, he surveyed the scene for what it was. The messenger, strewn on the floor, being helped by Ana and Daphne, looking at him in shock, and what cut him most from Daphne; disappointment. This man who called himself Hoidd, had ridden as fast as he could to tell them of what had happened. They had been ambushed by goblins, trying to reach the Vale of Anduin in the Misty Mountains.
“We were attacked by goblins. We were by the side of a pass, and Deorla pushed me over the edge and saved me, like she did for you. She told me of the bridge”. When the man had said that, he had paused. But he was here, and she wasn’t. Why had he gotten out and she hadn’t? Why would she trade her life for… him?
Fool. You swore to kill that elven b*tch, yet you did nothing as she forced Deorla away. Now she’s lying dead somewhere, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Everything you’ve built is gone. It’s your fault. You failed her. AGAIN.
No, he reminded himself. Hoidd had said he hadn’t seen her fall, and the man was too exhausted to tell them more.
“We’re taking him inside. He needs food, water and rest. Perhaps he’ll tell us more when he wakes” Anastasiar had said, and they’d taken him inside. Furley watched them take him away, but his mind was panicked.
“I have to do something” he said aloud. To himself. “I can’t give up on her, it’s not what we do. I have to find her. She could be alive. She could be alive!” he gasped, almost willing there to be hope. He tried to run to the stable, but his legs betrayed him, and he more just staggered.
Fiddling with the straps of his saddle, his hands trembled, and he couldn’t tie the buckle. His will was resolved, but he was in no condition to go.
“What are you doing?” Daphne’s voice came from behind him.
“The usual” he grunted. “Something stupid and reckless”. Still fiddling with the buckle, his fingers couldn’t do it, and even his resolve began to crack. All he could think to himself was one thing. I can’t do this. And he felt it in so many ways than one.
“We’ll find out more from him tomorrow. Until then, don’t do anything foolish” came the Commander’s voice, who had reappeared behind him.
“Give me my sword, Commander” Furley growled, for some reason lashing out at the wrong target.
And he did.
And that’s when he finally broke.
Furley’s eyes watered, looking at the weapon, and those around him, and for the first time he actually saw what was in front of him. He’d been reckless and foolish in the past, and it had worked. Just. But he hadn’t had a choice then, for he was alone. But now, he wasn’t.
“We’ll find out where she is, and we’ll bring her back. You can even lead the expedition if you want to”.
Looking down at his sword, and to Altheric the Company Commander, he felt foolish, embarrassed, deflated, yet full of hope all at the same time. He had his flaws, and his strengths. Hells, they all had. But in that man he suddenly saw a calm resolve that found its way to him, and suddenly that hope flared with a tinge of reasoning, and somehow he’d found himself steeled against what had felt like a pit of dread and despair opening beneath him.
“I am sorry, Commander. But I will not lead the expedition. You are the Commander for good reason, and you are the man for this. Send for the scout and make the preparations for our journey”.
“I will” he replied, softly. Get some rest, and we’ll make the plans, and bring her home”.
On his way past, the Commander patted him on the shoulder, and something about that made him resolved.
Kill the elf (if she wasn’t already dead). Win Deorla’s freedom. Maybe in reverse order.
