After all, it wasn't like he kept up with world events. Most dragons didn't anyways. Well, most dragons he knew didn't at least, not that he knew many. Perhaps there were other dragons that actually paid attention. It would probably be good to get in contact with other dragons that he knew and trust and pass on the message. He would have to wait until Mirroth came to visit. She would probably be visiting within a sennight. She usually came once a sennight and she had last visited a few days ago. He would have to leave a note to himself for that then.
He drew a stick of charcoal from the fire and began to write a note for himself on his memo wall. At least this way he wouldn't forget it so easily. Besides that he would have to consult texts about that area. He was rather certain he had plenty of documents from the "Flaming Torch Valley." At least he had kept up with the written forms of languages that he had been taught. It would be good if he could find them. Perhaps there was important information from those dispatches and books he had gotten as a wolf. If there wasn't, well, he might well have to raid a caravan or two that might be carrying interesting texts.
Considering the princess's story, she probably wouldn't mind if he did a bit of raiding. Actually, she'd probably be delighted if he razed a city or two to the ground. Not that he had the power to unfortunately. And a well-placed arrow could take him down, just because he was a dragon did not mean he was invincible. Besides, he was a simple shape shifter dragon; it wasn't like he was a fire-shaper or the owner of a powerful fetching gift. Nor did he have the gift of far-seeing or foresight. In the end, his ability was best for escaping and foiling trackers. Ah well, his power had its uses as well. It was quite convenient for him at least.
Squish.
...
:To the nine hells with these ointments!:
Alireth sighed to herself. As expected, the messenger was from the army. Some highborn officer, who had likely been given his position due to his father, wanted her to make him a sword. She could imagine his voice in her head. "I am Blah, son of Count Blahblahblah, descendant of so-and-so, and I must have the best of the best. I do not want a blade from a second-rate blade-smith!" As if there weren't plenty of talented blade-smiths filling the capital and salivating at the chance of having a highborn become their patron.
Personally, Alireth no longer wanted to have much to do with the highborn. Too many of them were interested in acquiring her services at their castles or mansions. Especially after they discovered she was of the more “delicate” sex. It was as if they thought she sold services other than her smithing.
She had no desire to be paraded around by the highborn like a prize broodmare. She had no desire to be "conquered" for that matter. Despite her clear disinterest in this subject, in the capital, young arrogant fools swarmed her like flies. It had gotten to the point where she could no longer work without interruption.
It seems she'd been found again. At least she wasn't the real owner of the blacksmith shop in this town. She had taken up work in her friend's blacksmith shop. People seemed to think she was going to take over her friend’s shop, and her friend had even begun to hint that he was willing to let her take over. It was a pity she'd have to leave soon. At least there were still a couple of apprentices to help her friend around the smithy.
Well, her new move would require coin. So it seemed she had no choice but to take up this job. The money from this would make moving much easier. At least they were willing to pay half up front. “For supplies” they said. As if there was no way she could make decent blades outside of the capital.
For a second, she considered just taking the money and running. However, that would backfire and damage her friends and her reputation. She took the money, so she had taken the job. She’d make that sword for him; she’d make it with the best of her skills, the way she made all of her blades. Then she would leave. She still had a pack animal from last time, so she would not need to negotiate a deal with a horse trader.
Instead she would need supplies and perhaps she would need someone to protect her on her journey. After all, one woman wandering alone was a very tempting target. Perhaps she would join a caravan, but then they would likely tell if asked where she had gone. However, she still needed protection, so perhaps she would join a caravan and travel with it some ways, and then set off on her own.
Then again, she still needed someone to travel with her for that last leg of the journey. For some unknown reason, the image of a man with wings appeared in her head. Rumor had it; he was very skilled in battle. He was also known for accepting any job, so long as there was enough coin. Though she didn’t know him well, she had heard he often frequented the same bar as her friend. Perhaps he would be willing to escort her for that last leg of the trip.
Well, it didn’t matter right now. First she had to finish that sword. Then she would have enough money to hire him, acquire supplies, and have enough left over to start up a shop again in another town. After all, it wasn’t like the money she had from all the smithing she had done in the past had simply evaporated. She had saved it of course.
All her hard-earned coin was saved in a magical box. The mage had explained that it had a “Personal Lock” that would only allow it to be opened by her. If anyone tried to touch her strongbox, they would find themselves burned. The strongbox itself was made carefully with a very complicated lock and a special key. She stored this key in a pouch around her neck, and when it wasn’t around her neck, she always had her eyes on it.
If she lost the key, it was still possible for her to open it due to the magic cast on the strong box. However, she did not wish to lose that extra layer of security, so she made sure to protect her key. These items alone cost her a fortune, but when highborn were trying to “conquer” a maiden, there was much they were willing to give; especially when the coin they used belonged to their father.
Yes, she had felt a tiny twinge of conscience when she first sold some of their gifts, but after remembering the way they behaved she no longer felt anything from her conscience. She belonged to no one. She was not a pet or a curiosity or something to be conquered.