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Harreld
Something had been distracting Harreld all morning in the smithy he shared with Garreld. Not just Garreld, who was, of course, very distracting, either singing too loudly, cracking bad jokes, or haranguing about the evils of women. No, it was something else. He put down his tools.
"I am going to the eatery. Do you want something?"
"Aye, bring me bread and a tankard of ale."
"It is only morning."
"What of it?"
"As you wish."
Harreld left the smithy and entered the Hall. There were still a few folk about, even though the breakfast hours had been over some time ago. There were Lord Athanar and Eodwine with their wives, apparently hosting a stranger. Who?
Harreld came closer. The stranger looked at him. Immediately he felt a presence in his thought. Hello. Is that you, stranger, in my mind?
The stranger's eyes widened. He rose. "I greet you, stranger. I am Laerdil of Lorien. How are you called?"
"I am Harreld Smith, worker of metals here at Scarburg." Somehow he knew better than to say aloud what he suddenly knew. You are surprised that I can speak to you this way.
Aye, 'tis so. Are you not a Man?
I am but a man.
Most astounding. "Will you sit with us, Harreld Smith?"
"I am sorry, I should not. I have come on an errand. You are welcome to visit my smithy if you like, sir." With that he went on his way and the stranger, an Elf, sat down. Harreld knew that the Elf would be by to see him.
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