It was a small place underground, but it was good enough for the half elf. The stone walls bare as innocence, a solitary chill seeping deep into the room and into the half elf’s bones. As he channelled his Mana through his body, it fought off the chill, the warmth of magic flooding through his heart, the young man inhaling calmly between every breath as he completed his spells.
As he placed the bronze token, wide and heavy, into his cloak, then shifted it into his ring, he stared straight ahead, to the wall. His eyes swallowed the grey wall whole, before it disappeared into darkness as he thought about the merman girl.
‘What else can I do for her?’ the half elf thought. He could buy her a shortsword, a dagger perhaps? No, should he even do that? He thought of asking the mermen to train her, but would they treat her well? They were those born around royalty, so their common sense would be gravely lacking, and when they treated her poorly and forced her away, wouldn’t they blame her bloodline rather than their despicable teaching methods?
Of course, they could always do that to her.
The half elf fought off the urge to kill the Merman Prince, thankfully with ease, for he was not a mad dog.
‘Being one hell of an erratic fool didn’t work since I didn’t commit to it,’ Adam thought, finally taking himself into consideration. ‘I can’t go around killing people, I wasn’t raise like that. I hope I’m not that kind of guy. If nothing else, Vonda would be disappointed in me.’
Adam thought about how many people he would have killed for Vonda if she so asked, letting out a relieved sigh that she was raised by Life’s Rose.
‘I should have been a respectable fellow, in the way they like to pretend they are respectable, and then… I should have made a name for myself, as the High Alchemist, as a great warrior, as someone even the Iyr depended on.’
Adam mused on his thoughts for a long moment.
‘I should have beaten them senseless,’ the half elf thought, his entire body flushing red with heat, before continuing, ‘respectfully.’
Adam’s eyes fell upon his amulet of obsidian, feeling the ridges against his fingers, the cool gem pressing away the heat in his hand. ‘Should I have revealed my connection to Baktu more overtly? If I was the High Alchemist of the United Kindom, the grandson of the Mad Dog, and the Chosen of Baktu, how many people would dare to look at my children like that? Who would dare to mess with my family?’
Even as Adam considered all which he must consider, for it was that kind of time in his life, he reached up to his pulsing forehead.
‘They call me the Crazy Father, but… what am I?’
The city bustled with life, the various aunties shouting across the road, the men sitting at one corner, smoking from pipes, talking about this and that, even pointing towards the various figures which walked down the road.
“I bet they slumber together in the night,” the older man said, tutting. “Back in my day, you saw a couple of those kinds, can’t call them some things these days, but you could drag them off the path and beat them proper to teach ‘em a lesson.”
“Everyone’s all soft these days,” the other confirmed, the bravado of speaking poorly to an Iyrman who probably didn’t know what they said, out of ear shot, filling his heart.
“That’s why the Reavers came down, causing a mess in the north, everyone knows they’re a bunch of-,”
A body flew across towards the trio of men as a giant figure of a man, who probably held some kind of giant blood within him, rubbed the side of his neck, liquid sanguine pooling outwards from a dagger. He looked down towards the old men, who stared up at him from under his shadow.
“Sorry,” the large figure said.
“Hussain! Hussain, you bastara, what are you doing?” called an older man, holding out a broom, ready to whack the giant fellow lightly. It was then he noticed the dripping red, the drunkard who was on the ground groaning, and a bloodied dagger. “Hussain!”
Lay on Hands: 45 -> 35
The warmth slipped through the giant fellow, who shuddered lightly, feeling the magic run through his neck, knitting his skin back together.
“Are you alright there, Hussain?” Adam asked, the fellow turning around towards him to meet his gaze.
“Hussain, Hussain, my boy!” The old man held up his scarf to press against the bloody wound, not yet realising the large fellow was healed.
“He should be alright now, ahm,” Adam said, before raising a hand and making his way.
Jurot blinked, certain this was Fate for the half elf to meet the large fellow to adopt into a fine warrior. ‘How deeply are you thinking?’
Adam sighed as he continued, making his way back to the inn, his eyes darting towards the sky, where a gentle rain seemed to be threatening the city with refreshment.
“Can I really not take her as my apprentice?” Adam asked.
“She should return to her family,” Jurot replied. “She misses them.”
‘Damn it…’
The half elf returned to find Kizwolima currently listening to a tale from the young Iyrman, who was speaking his family’s tales to the girl, which was more than an acceptable reason to keep his pride, while also not feeding into the half elf’s ridiculousness.
Kizwolima spotted the half elf some time later, the girl’s eyes lighting up, a smile on her face, barely paying attention to the story.
“Isn’t mister Tagak really good at telling stories?” Adam asked, beaming down towards the girl, who beamed up at him in return.
“Yes…”
“Let’s thank him and let him go eat and relax for the evening while we play together?”
“Okay!”
“Thank you again, Tagak,” Adam said, raising a hand towards him, before picking up Kizwolima, with a light grunt from how heavy she was, who had probably ate her bodyweight in fruit this journey, before taking her to the side.
Tagak frowned slightly, but left the half elf be, especially since Jurot had given him a look.
As the darkness fell on the city, Adam and Kizwolima lay on the ground, staring up at the night sky, with the moon high in the sky. “When you’re under the sea, do you see the stars?”
“No.”
“What do you think of them?”
“It’s so pretty, mister.”
“Yeah,” Adam replied, smiling as he stared at the stars, those which had begun to seem familiar to him. “Did you have fun with us?”
“Yes! I am having so much fun!”
“I’m glad…” Adam’s heart shuddered lightly. He closed his eyes, his chest tightening, the anxiety filling his bones. “You don’t have to worry, Kizwolima. It won’t be the last time we meet, and next time, I’ll be even stronger.”
“You’re already so strong, mister Adam, ‘specially for a landdweller.”
“I suppose I am a little strong,” Adam admitted. “You need to go back to your mummy and daddy and tell them all about what we did, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
“Then, in the future, we’ll meet again, you don’t have to worry about that…” Adam swallowed.
“Yes…”
“If you ever need any help, you can send word to me.”
“Okay!”
“I’ll be sure to send word now and again to check up on you. Mo Dunes will do it too…” Adam then glanced to the side while the girl affirmed his words, checking the description of the spell. ‘Oh? That’s fine then.’
“Can I learn magic?” Kizwolima asked.
“If you want to learn magic, I’ll teach it to you one day,” Adam promised. “If you want to learn the sword, I’ll teach you that. I’ll take you as my apprentice and I’ll train you to become a Master at least, if you want.”
“How strong is a Master?”
“As strong as my brother, Jurot.”
“Ooh,” Kizwolima replied, thinking of Jurot. “He is so strong!”
Adam smiled. He wanted to call her his little sister, but if he did that, it would be awkward for everyone involved, no matter how much he wanted to adopt her into his family. In his heart, she was already his little sister, and in the future, when she was older, and could make her own choices, he would train her to become a Paragon at least.
“Are you happy?” Adam finally asked, through a pained heart.
“Yes!”
Adam’s eyes teared up slightly. He had thought so much about what he wanted to be, but if she replied so fervently, wasn’t he doing something right?
“You aren’t allowed to miss us too much, alright Kizwolima?”
“Okay…”
“If you want to miss us, that’s fine too! If I hear they’re troubling you, I’ll come down there myself!”
“But mister, you can’t swim!”
“I’ll learn to swim even better, you don’t have to worry!” Adam promised.
“They’re so strong, mister! It’s a Prince! Princes are so strong!”
“Did you know that Prince who is taking you, Prince Merza, I beat him up already!”
“Mister, you can beat up Princes on land, you can’t beat Princes in the sea.”
“I already beat him up! Didn’t you remember, when I told you about Prince Morkarai, he’s the Prince of the Fire Giants!”
Kizwolima considered his words long and hard. “Mister Adam?”
“Yes?”
“Is that mister, um, the green half dragon uncle, is he stronger than Prince Merza?”
“Prince Merza, he’s a Grandmaster. Then there’s a Paragon above them. Then there’s the Peak, which is what I think that uncle was.”
Kizwolima considered Adam’s words. “Did you really beat him up, mister?”
“I did!”
“Why?”
“He picked a fight with me when my wife was sick,” Adam said, feeling the heat of rage flooding through him. “I beat him good!”
“You can’t be beating up Princes, but they shouldn’t pick a fight with you when your wife is sick,” Kizwolima said, with wisdom beyond her years.
“That’s right!”
2025-10-20 17:00:14 +0000 UTC
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The market was bustling with peoples, thousands before them. There were many, most commoners adorned in colourful clothing, but they stayed far away from the likes of those who were escorted by the heavily armoured, and those who were escorted by those without.
“I want this,” Kizwolima said, pointed to a ring made of a seashell, smoothed by a young hand, the one that was in the back currently softening all their jewellery.
Adam smiled, motioning a finger towards the ring, and as the woman picked it up to package into a tiny bit of scrap paper, tying it with a piece of string, the half elf smiled. “I would like to buy the entire row.”
The merchant woman blinked, but packed each of the items, placing them within a small basket, accepting the shining gleam of gold rather than silver. Her eyes then darted to the figure in the black armour, the kind that was rarely seen within such a city, the kind that was important to note.
That’s when Adam saw him. adorned in crisp clothing, bits of gold, escorted by a figure. The figure was adorned in chain, wore a helmet covered by a scarf, and a blade at his side, that which was of a snake that coiled around the base of his blade.
‘Oh ho ho ho?’
‘These books, considering the feel of the paper, it’s definitely from that traitorous Ejirate,’ the fellow thought, for who else could make such lovely paper?
The guard shifted slightly, noting the large figure who stepped beside him, and then as he recognised the half elf, his fingers twitched to his blade.
“How much for the books?” Adam asked, beaming towards the merchant.
“These books come from Diyyabayt Ejirate, to the east, and though they have decided to abandon Aswadasad, their books are among the best,” the old merchant said, smiling. “One book, one gold.”
“How about the rest of your books?”
“One beht,” the merchant said.
“Who do you-,” Akbar began, only to notice who he was, staring at him long and hard.
Adam tried to recall how much Vonda had spent on her books a few years back, but he assumed the price wouldn’t have been the same. “Is this paper from…”
History Check (Intelligence)
D20 + 1 = 2 (1)
Adam shook his head. “Zuhdi?”
“Zuhdi is what the ejirate is called by their locals.”
“Oh. I think I meant another place but I don’t remember the name, so never mind. How many books do you have? I want to buy them all.”
“Shukhur, I can sell you all the books you see, but those within my crates, I cannot sell,” the old man admitted, motioning a hand towards the books around, those packaged within the long sheet of paper and string, protecting them from the elements. “Each is twenty books. These are one beht, these are one gold, and these books, they are two gold.”
“I’ll buy the books,” Akbar finally said, annoyed he was being ignored.
“Shukhur, I will open up the crates for you, betta,” the old merchant said, smiling politely. Though he could not match the Setting Sun Merchants, they could not so easily deal with him, for he was older than the boy’s grandfather, and there was a time he assisted the fellow.
“I will pay double for them all.” Though Akbar was probably spending far too much coin, once he explained it to his father, for their pride was worth more than the gold he would spend, he would only be punished lightly.
“Are you planning on buying those from the crates too?” Adam asked, holding Akbar’s gaze.
“Can you stop me?”
“Are you paying double for them?” Adam asked.
“I will do so, if I must.”
“If you’re paying double, I’ll step back, and consider it ahm’s blessing you are opening your pouch,” Adam said simply. “I’ll have to find another book merchant.”
“…”
Adam smiled, since he felt like he had won, even if Akbar felt the same. “Shukhur, ahm, it is a good day for you.”
“Every day is a good day for me, but today, yes, today is a good day indeed!” The merchant laughed, causing the half elf to laugh too.
“However, even if he must buy them all, I would like to buy one for little Kizwolima here.” Adam motioned towards Kizwolima. “If you want, we can bid on the book.”
“No, you may have it,” Akbar replied.
Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, before bowing his head. Even if he did harass women, at least he knew when to step back. ‘There’s a little bit of hope for you left.’
“Mo, you are spending too much,” the merchant said, noting the gem.
“Consider it a gift, for Kizwolima will soon be taken away from me, and I want her to take a lovely book with her, one worth at least ten gold,” the half elf said. “Plus, recently we did business with the Amira and the Faro, so I’m flush with gold, I don’t have the space to keep them all.”
“You paid with a gem,” the merchant said.
“Yes, so many gems too,” the half elf replied, letting out a soft sigh, before looking down at Kizwolima, who sniffed at the book. “Kizwolima, it is tiring to be so wealthy.”
Kizwolima heard her name, but did not understand the tongue of the Aswadian people, so she just smiled.
‘…’ Akbar watched the half elf go, only to notice the Black Lion escorting him. ‘Who is he?’
“Kizwolima, make sure you spend all your pocket money,” Adam said, rubbing the top of her head. “Let’s buy your family some gifts too?”
“Okay!”
It wasn’t long before they had spent too much coin, or as Adam thought, not enough coin. As he settled himself down, he let out the sigh of a rich man, the kind that said his problems were truly the greatest, not those who knew what it meant to struggle.
“Did you have fun?” Zabir asked.
“I lost a battle of gold with a merchant, but I won a battle of heart against him,” Adam replied, looking up towards the sky.
‘If you speak so poetically…’ Zabir recalled the fool the half elf was the first time they had met, but now he was so different.
“Ahm, do you wish to remain here, to have some time to think, or would you like to see us at the business first before you make your decision?”
“I would like to see this business, as well as your family,” Zabir admitted, since he knew once he saw the half elf with his wife and children, he would understand what he was really like.
“Alright,” Adam said, realising he had already won the old man over. If he needed to see how he behaved with his family, then there was no way he was going to lose the guy, nor Yasha.
“Mo Adam,” Dunes called as he returned back to the inn, he and his companions holding large baskets. “Good fortune.”
“What’s all this?” Adam asked.
“Some of the trees around the city were affected by something, so the city had to cut them all down,” Dunes said, placing the basket onto the table, patting it gently. “The trees were useful for few things, but thankfully, they were able to make books out of them. Since so many books appeared into the market, all those made of the ruined trees, we managed to procure them for a silver each!”
‘I forgot how expensive paper was in this world,’ the half elf thought, since each book was thinner than the exercise books he used to write in at school, about two third’s the length, and about two thirds the width, and yet were easily ten times more expensive even when they were bought for a silver. However, he smiled.
“How lucky,” the half elf said, before informing Dunes what had happened earlier in the day.
“You backed down?”
“I couldn’t cause the merchant trouble, since he has to make a living in the same place, while I’m just a guest,” Adam replied simply.
Dunes smiled.
“Alright, Kizwolima, what else do you want to do?”
“Umm…”
“Should we go watch a play?”
“I want to fight!”
Adam blinked. “How?”
Kizwolima blinked. “Ah.”
“Since we’ve got all these books, how about I write our story so far, and you can draw it?” Adam offered.
“Okay!” Kizwolima excitedly grabbed the stylus and began to doodle, while the half elf ended up writing their story in Elementi.
“What are you doing?” Kitool asked, noting the language he was writing in was definitely a different script to Aswadic or Aldish.
“I’m drawing Kizwolima something to take with her.”
“She lives in the sea.”
Adam blinked, pausing for a moment, staring down at his writing, already several pages in. “Kizwolima, how about we make each other necklaces?”
“Ooh!”
Adam flushed lightly, while thinking about what else he could do for the girl. His heart ached deeply, the half elf thinking about how much time he should have spent with her while travelling. He supposed they did talk a lot on their rides, but…
“Jurot,” Adam called a short while later. “I need a private place.”
“Okay.”
“Kizwolima, I need to go for an hour or two,” Adam said, dropping to a knee, tickling her nose. “Apparently Bael’s up to something for the next few days, but I need to do something for the evening. I’ll have Tagak watch over you.”
“Okay…”
“I’ll be back soon.” Adam smiled reassuringly before turning to look towards Tagak, who glared at him, annoyed, obviously refusing. “Tagak, isn’t it time for you to grow up too?”
Tagak blinked.
Adam, of all people, was telling him to grow up?
In all his life, from his training, to facing so many warriors, even this year, had he ever taken so much damage.
2025-10-20 11:00:18 +0000 UTC
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‘Impossible!’ Sabreen thought, for the half elf was far too young to face against the likes of Vaseera and Rook. No, he was too young to defeat the likes of Vaseera and Rook simultaneously, a feat which even the Sabres of Dusk would find difficult. The Faro’s mind raced with the thought of how the half elf could possibly manage such a feat? Was he lying about his age? He was a half fae, after all. Perhaps he was a dragon in disguise? Then again, he could have just been that kind of legend, the kind who would usher in a new era, a generation to be named after him.
“In terms of payment…” Adam smiled innocently.
“Is twelve thousand agreeable?” Sabreen thought, still half distracted by her thoughts. She assumed that was an acceptable price, and they would enchant a fine enough weapon worth that coin.
“What do you think, Executives Jurot and Kitool?” Adam asked, though he was fine with the price. He had expected a little more, but four thousand for each weapon was fine enough for him. ‘Should it plus D3 damage to each?’
“The enchantments will match the price,” Jurot replied simply.
“If twelve thousand is how much you wish to spend, Faro, it is enough,” Kitool added.
Dunes turned to acknowledge the Executives, wondering why they were picking a fight with the Faro. Somehow, even when he didn’t need to worry about to Adam, he still needed to worry.
Lady Sabreen could feel the accusation within their words. The Iyrmen, they were always so audacious! ”If the enchantment will match the price, then is fifteen thousand more acceptable?”
Adam threw a look to Jurot and Kitool, who nodded. “That seems agreeable, Your Grace.”
Even the way the half elf spoke, it swung towards the woman’s pride. However, if he was the kind who was no doubt at least a Grandmaster, or perhaps greater, there was little in which…
‘Is it an act?’ Sabreen thought, realising the most obvious solution to her issue. ‘Since they work for the group, the half elf could have defeated them in order to send word to me. Is this what they wanted?’
“If you are willing to trade our preferred payment, I will reduce the price to fourteen thousand,” Adam informed. “I would like gems, especially diamonds worth three and five hundred specifically, high quality ore, some firesteel, any other special ore, then the remaining half in gold and silver, and perhaps some beautiful paintings like that one on the wall.”
Sabreen remained silent, pondering his words. She motioned a hand towards a servant, calling for her granddaughter, while remaining silent, deep within her thoughts. It was a simple enough reason, to earn coin from her, but there must have been something else the group wanted. Perhaps it was to take her granddaughter hostage? No, that was impossible, the Iyrmen would not do such a thing, it was unheard of. So…
A small girl adorned in blue approached, a scarf loosely hung around her head, the kind with a hundred suns, each emanating vibrant rays across the scarf. She was small, a girl of six, perhaps, with a shy smile as she approached her mother. Her companion was a woman adorned in white, carrying a longblade at her side, a silent guard who remained ever vigilant.
“Lady Grandmother,” the girl called, standing at the woman’s side.
“Hassa, greet the merchants,” Sabreen said, lifting the girl onto her lap, wrapping an arm around her, like a belt, pinning the girl to her.
“Asaym, I am Lady Hassa.”
“Walay, I am Mo Adam, High Alchemist of the United Kindom,” the half elf replied, beaming brightly.
‘He is the High Alchemist?’ Sabreen thought, and upon hearing the title, she understood how the half elf could defeat the likes of the pair. ‘If he was under the affects of various pills…’
“Where is the United Kingdom?” Hassa asked.
“The United Kindom is a business that is at the Iyr’s border, all the way far to the west,” Adam replied.
“That is a great distance, High Alchemist. You have travelled a long way, I hope your journey has been well?”
Adam smiled even wider. “It is a far distance, even more so since we passed by from Arisa to the Jabal Adh Dahab, then north and around, and then we returned all the way back to here. Also, yes, I am very tired, but within a month or two, I shall return home.”
Hassa looked to the Iyrmen. “Are you strong warriors?”
“We are Masters,” Jurot replied.
“Wow! Masters? Are you forty years old?”
Jurot winced lightly. “I am twenty four.”
Though both Kal Fadi and Lady Sabreen were shocked by the revelation that the pair were Masters at the age of twenty four, Hassa tilted her head slightly, her face incredulous. She pulled back towards her grandmother, glancing up towards her to see if it was just a joke, but even she had been taught Iyrmen did not lie, but joking wasn’t the same as lying.
“Hassa, the Mo wishes to buy some of your paintings,” Sabreen said, wishing to quickly continue along with the conversation so she could be free of such a figure, and so she could sort out her thoughts.
“How many paintings can I buy from you, Young Lady?” Adam asked.
“Umm…” The girl hummed quietly in thought. “Five.”
“How much will you charge?”
“One hundred gold.”
“We’ll consider each painting one hundred gold and we’ll accept five, we will pay you directly from the coin the Lady pays us.”
Hassa raised her brows, since she had meant one hundred gold for the entire amount, but she smiled and looked up towards her grandmother, having sold her paintings for so much!
“As you wish, Mo,” Sabreen said. “You are in Aswadasad now, so I will pay you the entirety by the evening’s end.”
‘Man, Aswadasad is pretty baller, huh?’ Adam smiled wide. “What a wonderful saying.”
As the woman sent the servants to bring the chest she had prepared with the thousands of gold, mostly in gems, an older servant approached, whispering something into the old woman’s ear.
“I apologise, it seems some esteemed guests have arrived,” Lady Sabreen said, smiling politely. “I hope you enjoyed the luncheon.”
“It was wonderful, thank you.”
“I will allow you to remain until the hour’s end to complete your meal,” the woman said, standing, smiling warmly before carrying Hassa away. The girl looked over to Adam, who waved towards her, and the girl shyly waved back.
‘I suppose I can’t bully her too much in front of her granddaughter,’ the half elf thought, returning back to his meal. His eyes met Dunes’. “What?”
“I am annoyed that you are able to behave well but continued to trouble me this far.”
Adam winked, and the group finished their meals and made their way back to the inn. Adam furrowed his brows. ‘Did she bring her granddaughter to this place or is this her estate?’
The inn welcomed the group, Adam dropping down beside a particular old Iyrman, a sleeping baby within his arms.
“Good fortune?” Vasera asked, leaning back within her chair, enjoying the after effects of her meal, which settled so heavily within her stomach.
“Good fortune,” the half elf confirmed.
As evening approached, Adam wondered if it was good fortune, when Kal Fadi approached the half elf. This time, however, even Dunes was confused, since the half elf hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless, of course, it was to try and court him?
“The esteemed guests wish to see you, and to take the girl,” Kal Fadi said.
“Huh?” Adam replied, returning back to the Adam of yesteryear, his eyes sharpening, as if daring to bear his teeth towards the faris. He was so ready to make the Faro an enemy when he blinked, flashes of thought entering his mind. “Oh?”
“Tell your esteemed guests to wait until the twenty second,” called a voice, who had been missing for most of the day, but had just returned. The half dragon smirked.
“I must insist.”
“If you must insist, then you may escort me, and I will discuss with this esteemed guest of yours,” Bael said.
The faris paused to consider, but he couldn’t offend the likes of Bael. He turned towards the rest of the group, and with a nod from the half elf, he accepted Bael’s offer.
“Kizwolima, you may remain with mister Adam,” Bael said.
“Okay!”
As Adam watched him go, he could only wonder one thing. ‘Why’s he smiling like that?’
The large merman sat opposite the Faro, allowing her to accommodate him while he was within this forsaken city. He was tall, with long curly hair, and a golden trident rested to one side, though he was no longer adorned in his golden scales. A single guard remained nearby, also a merman, though an appropriate distance away, while a group of Aswadian warriors remained near the Faro.
‘To think he would have me come all this way,’ the merman thought. ‘How dare he, that damn-,’
The merman’s thoughts were broken as his eyes darted to the side, holding overt disdain. He blinked. His eyes turned from disdain to alarm as he saw the figure, his horns, and those azure scales. As the half dragon approached, the merman guard shifted, only for the Prince to raise a hand.
“Fall back,” the Merman Prince said, holding Bael’s gaze, his eyes wide, abject terror emanating from the Prince’s expression.
Bael held the Prince’s gaze for a moment, his smirk growing into a wicked grin, all the while basking in the knowledge that the merman understood. “We are leaving on the twenty second.”
Merza tried to speak up, swallowing, but thankfully for him, Bael showed mercy and stepped away, returning back to the inn after a moment with the Prince.
“Your Grace?” the merman guard called, his own heart pounding wildly within his chest, having never seen his liege so shaken before, he who was considered at least a Grandmaster across this land.
‘What is he doing here?’ Merza thought, his heart still pounding painfully within his chest, his lungs barely shifting for breath, his entire body heavy, as though he was moments from passing.
The Faro remained silent for a long moment, realising Bael was not a blue half dragon, but an azure half dragon. ‘…’
When Bael returned to the inn, he noted Kizwolima playing dice with the half elf. “Adam, you should play with Kizwolima for the next few days.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Adam replied eagerly, his eyes beaming, ready to take the girl to the market and spoil her, even as late as it was.
Meanwhile, Bael would need to do that.
2025-10-19 17:00:11 +0000 UTC
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“I have to mention that the business is led by quite a few Iyrmen, so if you have any qualms working beside Iyrmen, or receiving their orders, it might be an issue,” Adam said as she returned.
“If I had an issue with that, I wouldn’t have entertained your words for this long.”
Vasera remained quiet for a long moment. “Are we able to buy magical weapons from the business?”
Adam blinked, furrowing his brows towards her, before glancing aside, his eyes twitching around the area as he thought. “You know, I don’t think I ever considered that? I suppose, of course, right? If members of the United Kindom couldn’t buy magical weapons, what the hell are we doing?”
“Instead of gifting us the Basic armour, I would like to buy it, so that we own it immediately,” Vasera said.
Adam thought about her words, only to recall that the offer was that they would keep it after the ten years. “Then I’ll add a condition that you’ll be unable to sell it for a decade.”
Vasera nodded, though who would sell Basic armour when they were a warrior? Perhaps if she retired, if she was crippled, or if she had died and used it to pay off any debts.
How much would it go for normally? I think armour and shields are slightly more expensive than weapons right?”
“For full plate, to enchant our typical armour, one thousand and five hundred, or so.”
“Then...” Adam fell quiet once more in thought. It would probably cost him about half that much in terms of how much it would cost to enchant. However, for the business to charge its own people full price for such weapons, which would take years to earn if they pinched ever copper…
The faces of his workers flashed through his mind, even the children, who would need to train in the future, and then when they would become adults, wouldn’t they step out into the world? He reached up to his forehead, feeling the pulse of humanity against his fingertips.
“You will have a discount to procure such an enchantment,” Adam said. “At least ten percent, that much I can promise, but I’ll try to lower the price further.”
“Even full price would be acceptable,” Vasera replied, for the group spent much coin monthly, but the others had squirrelled away quite a large sum from their wages, including Vasera’s and Rook’s.
“You'll have to pay upfront and wait for when the enchanter isn't busy enchanting weapons for the various nobles, royalty of the nearby regions,” Adam teased.
Vasera chuckled, her lips forming a wide smile, her eyes narrowing mischievously. “Oh? You’re treating the royals so well, are you?”
Adam narrowed his eyes in return. “Well, I suppose since we’ll be sending you to escort the weapons, it wouldn’t be good to allow you to go without the magical armour.”
Vasera laughed, her laugh echoing across the inn, causing many to turn their heads towards her.
“Do you all know how to read and write and such?”
“We do.”
“Then I hope you’ll be fine with teaching instead of guarding now and again…” Adam paused. “No, that’s only if you like it and if you’re good at it. Although, then again, teaching either knowledge, or fighting, we’ll consider those as parts of your work too.”
“We’ll work with our pay rate until we get to the business,” Vasera said.
“Fine, but if we can, would you mind getting paid at the business?”
“Since it’s you.”
Adam smiled, bowing his head. With the negotiations over, he ordered more food, relaxing, without realising the storm he had brought upon the group. However, he was too busy thinking about Rook’s sword, and how it was considered a rather weak offering compared to even his own Seventh Sky. ‘I should make them an even nicer sword.’
As the evening passed, a figure stepped into the inn. He was tall, wide, and carried a pair of blades on his back that would make lesser warriors falter to even wield. His armour was carved of darker steel, aged by battle, the details lost to warriors who had dared to come across the faris. His cloak was heavy, barely shifting even as he strode towards the group, as though he were a lion approaching a herd of gazelles.
“Are you those of the United Kindom?” the faris asked.
“Yes,” Jurot replied, deciding against allowing his brother to speak up.
“You are cordially invited for luncheon with Her Grace, Faro al-Yasin at noon.”
“Okay.”
“…”
“…”
The faris turned, leaving the group be, revealing his pair of curves sabres, each which required one at the peak of their natural strength to wield.
“Was that the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa?”
“No,” Jurot replied. “He is Kal Fadi, the Sabres of Dusk. Though he is not on the level of the Radiant Blade, he could clash with her.”
‘Oh? So he’d be a Grandmaster at least, then?’ Adam watched as the figure disappeared, at the very least glad no one caused trouble. “Do you think I’m good enough to go to a luncheon with a Faro?”
“Perhaps you should remain,” Jurot said.
Adam’s head snapped towards his brother, confusion painted on his face, an apprehensive smile slipping across his lips. “Was that a joke?”
“Yes.”
“A great joke.”
“Thank you.”
Adam glanced aside, before his eyes returned back to Jurot for a moment, then they fell to Dunes, who pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, doing his best not to belt out into laughter.
“We’ll take Laygak, Kizwolima, and Amal so they can enjoy themselves.”
“This time, it should be the four,” Jurot said.
“Four?”
“You, Kitool, Dunes, and I.”
“Oh?” ‘I guess it’s a formal lunch so we should only take us.’ “What about guards?”
Jurot glanced aside towards Vasera and the others. “Kal Uli will be enough.”
The next morning Adam completed his morning routine with John, who was training with Nirot, before bathing and eating lightly in the morning, drinking copious amounts of tea, before realising he would need to use the bathroom constantly if he continued.
The luncheon took place at one of the Faro’s estates, not at her typical castle. The estate was large, easily housing a hundred servants, another hundred guards, including the one known as the Sabres of Dusk. In another estate, the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa slumbered within such an estate, but this state would not allow the Faro to slumber, for now she was sitting across the one known as the Crazy Father.
She was older, in her fifties, her skin as dark as the night, her eyes not quite amber, almost golden. Her heavily printed attire wrapped around her several times, each a different design, light chain peeking through. A small curved blade at her side may have cost a fortune, but certainly her numerous guards cost more.
As she greeted each of them, she began with Kal Uli, before allowing them to take a seat before her, allowing the five to settle on one side of the table, while she sat opposite, upon her plush chair, that could easily accept another person, perhaps two at a squeeze.
As the light meal was brought, well made, but far too small to be considered a real lunch, Adam hid his displeasure, but when he noted the mass of desserts, he forgave the Faro within his heart.
After some light small talk, the Faro finally spoke up. “I heard a great many rumours of your strength, young warriors, and that you work for a business that deals in the trade of magical weapons?”
Adam opened his mouth, his eyes darted towards Jurot, who nodded. “That we do, Lady al-Yasin.”
“It is not just that you trade in magical weapons, but you work with an enchanter to create such magical weapons, is that correct?”
“That is correct,” Adam confirmed.
“The wealth if Arisa is vast and as wide as its sea,” the Faro said. “Are you open to accepting trade with Arisa?”
“Arisa? I’m uncertain, but the Lady’s family? We’d be open to at least hearing your request, but we do have quite the number of requests to complete already, so the request will likely be delayed for the future.”
The woman thought to mention the Reavers, but if she did, it was a good enough reason for others to use against the company. However, considering Adam was the kind of figure who could face both Vasera and Rook at once, he wasn’t so easy to offend.
“I would like to procure three Greater Enhanced weapons, two daggers, and a longblade. They should strike heavier and they should glow at one’s will, preferably. Is this an enchantment that is possible?”
“Perfect, those are actually some of our specialities,” Adam replied, for not only was it a simple enough enchantment, the fact she wanted exactly three was perfect. ‘I’ll just add a little bit of damage to each.’
Lady Sabreen reached down to her dagger, unlatching the daggerbelt, before placing it upon the table. “We will provide the weapons. This is my trusted dagger, another is my granddaughter’s. My Hassa designed her own, and for my son, who is currently gathering a unit to deal with the Reavers, I had a blade commissioned recently.”
A guard stepped forth with a long case, revealing the long blade within, a finely made sabre of what looked to be firesteel, but the way the light danced along the blade, it was certainly greater than a typical blade.
“Your granddaughter designed her own dagger?” Adam asked.
“She enjoys her arts. She has begun to pain often, and she designed her own dagger, which is similar to my own.” The Faro motioned to a painted upon the wall, a fairly simple landscape, which she had hung on display.
“How amazing!” Adam was genuinely impressed, since the artwork, though simple, was at least affectionately displayed by the noble, though it did not come close to the other master work beside it. ‘She must be what, ten years old?’
“Do you enjoy art?”
“My wife is the artist within our family, though my children are also quite good.”
“How many children do you have?”
“Eight.”
“Your poor wife.”
“Haha, well, I won’t force her to have any more children, though I wouldn’t mind ten, twenty, or a hundred or two?”
“Is she so stout?”
“She is quite the warrior,” Adam admitted proudly. “She holds the title of a Ray of Life’s Rose.”
Lady Sabreen blinked away the shock within her eyes in an instant. “Your wife is a Ray?”
“That’s right!” Adam laughed, grinning wide. “The youngest Ray, I believe.”
The Lady held Adam’s gaze for a long while, trying to understand just what kind of a figure she was speaking with. “May I ask, how old are you?”
“I’m twenty four.”
‘What?’ Lady Sabreen thought in sheer disbelief.
The Sabres of Dusk blinked.
2025-10-18 17:00:12 +0000 UTC
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“Do you feel it too?” Rook asked, the figure adorned in his full plate, his helmet, in the face of a hyena, settled at his side. A familiar blade hung to his side, the kind that had been auctioned in Red Oak in years previous.
“I do,” Vasera confirmed, the woman adorned in full plate, brass in colour, the woman standing tall and firm, her blade unseen, or rather, seen, through the slightly thicker brass gauntlet over her right arm. The half elf had certainly changed, the visage of the jester a ghostly memory, faded to time. Vasera thought about his twins, his troublesome daughter, his sweet son, and then the red skinned boy who was without a doubt a demon.
‘Did they deserve to die?’ the half dragon thought.
Rook stepped forward first, rolling the blade over the back of his hand. “I will face you first.”
“There’s no need for that,” Adam said, holding up a pair of fingers, beckoning them both. “Both of you come at me at once.”
Vasera narrowed her eyes, but her lips twitched slightly. She held out her hand, the brass of her armour melting into the shape of a sword, long and slightly curved, the pair of Oathsworn standing side by side, stepping slightly outwards in order not to get in each other’s way, while forcing Adam to concentrate on two flanks.
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 12 (11)
Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2
Seventh Sky: 1 -> 0
Attack: Seventh Sky (Advantage)
D20 + 10 = 23 (13)
D20 + 10 = 29 (19)
Critical Hit!
Mana: 34 -> 31
Ability: Divine Smite
8D6 + 8D6 + 8 = 63 (24)(30)
63 damage!
Attack: Seventh Sky (Advantage)
D20 + 10 = 16 (1)
D20 + 10 = 19 (18)
Hit!
Mana: 31 -> 28
Ability: Divine Smite
4D6 + 4D6 + 8 = 44 (24)(12)
44 damage!
Onward Soar: 1 -> 0
Attack: Seventh Sky (Advantage)
D20 + 10 = 15 (5)
D20 + 10 = 22 (12)
Hit!
Mana: 28 -> 25
Ability: Divine Smite
4D6 + 4D6 + 8 = 41 (12)(21)
41 damage!
Attack: Seventh Sky (Advantage)
D20 + 10 = 30 (20)
D20 + 10 = 30 (20)
Critical Hit!
Mana: 25 -> 22
Ability: Divine Smite
8D6 + 8D6 + 8 = 61 (21)(32)
61 damage!
He was a blur of purple. Magical steel clashed against magical steel. Seventh Sky against one of the various fire blades Adam had first begun to enchant. As Rook stepped back to try and defend himself, giving Vasera an opportunity to press the half elf. It was an opportunity she had dared to take.
‘What?’ Vasera’s hair stood on end as the purple form in front of her blurred, the woman raising her blade high to barely deflect a blow that would have killed an Expert outright, the Oathsworn leaping backwards, but it was not from the strength of her own legs. As she stood, her blade shook violently within her hand, her ears ringing.
Vasera blinked, only to find Jonn in front of her, causing her to raise her sword, but as the warmth of his magic filled her, she noted Adam crouched over Rook, whose memory had also lapsed for a moment. Her arm throbbed, pulsing towards her heart, which beat heavily.
Those who had remained to watch the fight were too stunned to surrender their coin or collect their bets, their eyes firmly glued to the large figure in purple, who had managed to defeat the Golden Savage and the Laughing Hyena at once.
“I see,” Vasera said, flashing a wide smile towards the half elf, who had, in the span of a couple of years, had propelled himself towards the top of the mountain. “If you're this strong why do you need us?”
“I can't be in two places at once,” Adam replied simply, far too seriously for all those around him. He pat Rook’s shoulder, holding out a hand, assisting the warrior up who shook his head, trying to regain his composure.
“Let’s discuss some business then,” Vasera finally said, motioning a hand to her companions.
“Let me go have another bath, this thing makes me sweat like a damn pig,” Adam said, feeling the tingling all against his back.
“Do pigs sweat?”
“…” Adam shrugged his shoulders and stepped. As he did, he caught Bael’s gaze, a tiny smile slipping onto his lips, winking playfully at the half dragon.
Bael grinned wildly in return, peeking towards the half elf as he stepped away, before his eyes fell to Kizwolima.
“Mister Adam is strong,” Kizwolima said, her brows raised, half in surprise, as though she hadn’t seen him defeat the likes of so many great figures. However, seeing as he defeated not one half dragon, but two? ‘Wow.’
Tonagek’s eyes followed the sight of many of the figures who slipped away, no doubt many wishing to spread all this information for a pretty silver or two. It was ultimately Adam’s choice how much he wanted to reveal himself. Or, perhaps, he had no idea how quickly word would travel now that he had so visibly defeated the likes of the Golden Savage and the Laughing Hyena?
Once Adam finished with his bath he stepped out in his black robes, the Aswadic shalwar, loose, yet well fitted. The half elf wore a plain white scarf over his shoulders, which then floated down towards his lap, though it had been cut so it was rather short, so even as he sat, it barely reached his belly button.
“I didn’t expect you to care about your style,” Vasera admitted, waiting for the half elf at a seat to one side, not in a private room, but considering how far away people preferred to stay from her, it may as well have been private.
Adam dropped down opposite her, smiling slightly. “When in Aswadasad, do as the Aswadi.”
“When did you become this strong?”
“Recently,” Adam replied.
“How recent?”
Adam thought for a moment, considering his words. “Do you recall when we first met?”
“How could I forget,” Vasera replied, letting out smoke through her nostrils. “Back then, I could make the excuse I was drunk and let down my guard.”
“I just have that kind of potential. While one person may be an Expert, as an Expert, I was closer to a Master. As a Master, I am closer to a Grandmaster.”
“It seems to me you might be closer to the likes of a Paragon.”
“Without my magical equipment, I might be a touch below,” Adam replied, though he wasn’t certain, not that he thought deeply about it. He wished he didn’t think about it at all, but he supposed he didn’t have that luxury. He couldn’t not think about it, he couldn’t think about it deeply. Before the anxiety could grip his heart, he let out a soft sigh. “Should we order something before we get down to business?”
“I’ll have some tea.”
“Pink?”
Vasera nodded, and the half elf raised a hand, but instead of a typical worker, the innkeep, a woman with braided hair half hidden behind her scarf and sharp eyes.
“How may I assist the great warriors today?”
“I’d like to order some pink tea, and some kafa too,” Adam said, placing down a beht. The innkeeper hesitated for just a moment before accepting. “If we overspend, add it to our tab, and our business will deal with it before we go.”
“As you say, great warrior,” the woman said, bowing her head lightly. “May I ask, do you intend to stay long? I will prepare a bathroom for your exclusive bathroom if you wish to stay long.”
“A few days at most, I think. I intend to leave at the start of next week.”
“I will have someone clear a bathroom and place a sign,” the woman assured, quickly retreating away, going to make the tea and kafa. She had noted the exhaustion on the young man’s face, and the warmth he tried to radiate. Whoever he was, Zaynab thought he wasn’t here to cause trouble, though she wasn’t sure how to judge him. Just what kind of monstrous young man was he?
Adam thought deeply about the kind of offer he wanted to make her. It was awkward, since he wanted to offer her the same he would offer others. However, Adam’s offer was amazing when someone was a commoner, he had yet to meet anyone who matched his offer. However, when it came to the likes of an Expert, it seemed he paid a reasonable rate. When it came to Masters, though, he wasn’t sure how pricey they were. He imagined they were probably paid closer to fifty gold each month, but Vasera was the kind who asked for a hundred gold each month as an Expert, and people were eager to pay it, because she was a Golden Savage.
As the innkeeper brought the tea and kafa, another worker brought a platter of fruit. Zaynab then instructed a worker to remain on standby for the pair, while the rest of their group remained at the other side of the inn, with two personal workers assigned to them.
“Do you have any requests?” Adam asked.
“I would like to hear your offer first.”
Adam thought about his offer again, writing it down. It was the typical offer he offered most others, but he added a few more points at the end, the kind that would be most important to remember, since it was an offer only for the Golden Savages.
Vasera considered his points, since one of the items was extremely important, for it was difficult to procure magical armour, and since they didn’t use shields…
“I have two more requests,” Vasera began. “A yearly contract of employement, and one hundred gold each time we sign it.”
“The first contract will be for ten years,” Adam replied.
“A thousand gold for that contract sounds fine to me.”
“What if I offered a twenty year contract?”
“I wouldn’t sign it, even if I intended to stay with the business for twenty years,” Vasera replied.
“Why?”
“It’s too long a noose.”
Adam considered he analogy, but then recalled her words. “How long do you intend to stay with our business?”
“I travelled with you for some time,” Vasera said, recalling the last time they had met. She had been assigned to assist them, where she saw him come face to face with the army led by Lord Benjamin Gravesea. It didn’t matter who it was, the half elf had stood firm for the sake of protecting those children he had adopted into the business. “I won’t say it officially, but there are fewer employers across this world I would rather sign for.”
Adam flushed slightly, his eyes trailing to the side slightly. “Take the offer to your companions and ask them for their thoughts, but the contract will be ten years the first time, then I’ll be happy to make it yearly after.”
Vasera had already decided to retire when she turned thirty, in the sense that she would choose a patron to work for. It was a short while away yet, but Adam was offering them stable work, and considering all she knew of him, it was hard to deny how tempting the offer was. They had made enough coin, and they were about to reach the heights of Masters. ‘If I had already joined you, would I sit before you a Master?’
The half dragon revealed the paper to her companions, allowing them to read it for themselves.
“What do you say?” Rook asked.
“I want to hear your thoughts.”
“You led us this far, Vasera,” Rook replied simply, speaking on behalf of his companions.
2025-10-17 17:00:13 +0000 UTC
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The city sprawled across the horizon, the buildings flowing out like a wave across the land, the hilly terrain carrying homes and fields like waves on the sea. The large walls seemed so broad, so heavy, the kind that held the seat of power of an entire region. It had been only a couple of months or so since they had left the city for Black Mountain, but as Adam returned, he returned a changed man to a changed city.
‘The Prince said he’d be here in a few days, but I don’t really know what that means…’ The half elf let out a soft sigh in thought.
“Adam,” Jurot called.
“Yes?”
“Okay?”
Adam turned towards his brother, blinking. “It’s been such a long time and you decided to only ask now?”
“I wished to give you the time to allow your heart to ease, but Arisa will spark a fire within it, so I must ask now,” Jurot explained.
Adam held Jurot’s gaze for a long moment, fermenting in his brother’s wisdom. “How dare you be so handsome, strong, and wise, you punk.”
Jurot held Adam’s gaze for a long moment, and though it remained serious and dark after the joke, he noted the gentle sparkling beneath the surface, and the Iyrman left him be.
The Black Lion dealt with those at the gate, with the support of the members of Black Mountain, and they rolled their way into the capital. As they made their way along the main road, Zabir stared out his window. A complicated whirlwind filled his heart.
“Have you become sentimental?” Yasha dared to tease.
“I have returned, only to leave soon,” Zabir said. “I cannot allow my granddaughter to walk through Aldland just yet.”
“Floria before, the Iyr after.”
“Those lands too.”
As they rolled into a particular complex, the workers all rushed to the carriages, but as the figures stepped out, they were uncertain of they had been informed of receiving such fine guests.
He was tall, strong, with long dark hair peppered with white, a neatly trimmed beard, and he was built like a bull. As he approached the group at the carriages, he spotted two who seemed a touch wider than himself, his entire body tensing slightly, but he stepped forth, almost slamming his foot as he halted, clapping his hands together.
“My name is Aman, and I will be assisting you this evening,” he said, understanding why they had called for him specifically, since there were so many warriors, though with those wearing such amulets, he was certain it would be fine.
“Asaym, is there still room?” Dunes asked, noting how few of the spaces remained after they arrived, but then again, the inn only had spaced for less than ten carriages.
“Walay, Mo, there is much room, though I fear our inn may not satisfy your needs,” Aman admitted.
“There is a need to enter this inn,” Dunes stated, smiling, before realising his smile probably didn’t help how cryptic it seemed.
“As you wish, Mo,” Aman said, understanding this was a matter the likes of he or the inn owner couldn’t deal with. They would need to…
Then he recalled Dunes was a Mo of Black Mountain, and the man nearby was certainly a Black Lion.
‘Huh?’
As the group stepped within the inn, made of wood, with a few dozen people within already, enjoying their meals, a large number of travellers who eyed up the group as they stepped within. They had quietened slightly, noting the large number of Iyrmen, those of Black Mountain, and even a Black Lion.
“What is a handsome fellow like you doing in this inn?” called a figure, silencing the last few of the figures within. She was more handsome than pretty, with short hair that was cut at the side, with slightly longer hair at the top. Brass scales fell down the sides of her neck, going down to her back.
“It’s just your luck for you to come across me,” the half elf replied, glaring down at the half dragon.
The half dragon grinned wildly, but her grin fell, the woman straightening up as she noticed the other figure who was so notable. ‘What is he doing here?’
Adam’s eyes snapped towards Bael, who seemed to pay the others no mind, while Kizwolima glanced up towards him expectantly, causing him to step to an empty table near the mercenaries. They were just any mercenaries, however, for they were the Golden Savages.
“He won’t bite,” Adam joked, plucking a chair from nearby, then forcing his way between Vasera and Rook, holding up a hand to shake their forearms, half saluting the others. “Man, am I glad to see you all.”
“I am no man,” Vasera replied.
“It’s a general term, not like that,” the half elf replied, nodding towards the rest of his companions, allowing them to stop worrying so much about him, while Jurot settled himself with the group too, which made the table of eight rather cramped, but none complained.
“How have you been?” Vasera asked.
“Uh, well…” Adam smiled awkwardly. “A lot of things have happened. Some terrible, some fine.”
“Is that why you required our services?”
“Something like that.” Adam cleared his throat, feeling his throat tighten slightly. “Are you finally interested in joining our business?”
“I am considering it,” Vasera admitted, since it had been a few years, and she was approaching thirty.
“If you're thinking about it then you're thinking about it.”
“What task do you need of us?”
“Just to escort us to the Iyr, for now, but…” Adam smiled, raising his brows expectantly.
“We will escort you along the way, six hundred gold each month, and a six hundred gold fee upfront.”
“I forgot how pricey you were…”
Vasera grinned wide, shrugging her shoulders, since they had been asking for such a price from Expert, and when they would reach Master, their price would remain the same. They were the Golden Savages, after all.
“Well, you know of our offer, so just consider it.”
“What would you have us do?” Rook asked, since Adam was Adam.
“I’d have you protect the business, train some people, escort our products, escort our people.”
“If we were to join, there is one thing you must add,” Vasera said.
“What is it?”
“Death fees are five hundred gold per person.”
“Uh, what’s a death fee exactly?”
“If we are to die, you must pay five hundred gold to another member of the party, who will execute that member’s will.”
“Hopefully none of you die, but sure.”
“Although… you want us to protect the business which is in the land of the Iyr?”
“Yes.”
“You want us to train your warriors, in the land of the Iyr?”
“Yes.” Adam smiled, but it was not a smile of joy. “There are times when some of our members want to step out onto Aldish lands to play with the nearby villagers. I have no doubt that the Aldishmen will one day bother the business. If not Aldishmen, various other forces may do so.”
“They will be quite difficult.”
“There's another monster protecting the place so you wouldn't be doing it alone.”
“How strong are they?” Vasera asked, leaning in slightly.
“Well… I’d imagine they are at least a Grandmaster?”
“What of you? How strong are you now?”
“I ended up killing the Grand Commander of High Garden.”
“Sir James?” Vasera asked, her tone questioning.
“That’s the one.”
Vasera let out a hearty laugh, smiling wide towards the half elf. “”Why did you do such a thing?”
“I killed a Vice Commander previously, which upset him.”
“Why did you do that?”
Adam remained quiet for a moment, glancing down towards the table for a moment, before his eyes returned back to the woman. “He killed my children.”
Vasera’s laughter suddenly stopped, her eyes wide for a moment, furrowing her brows and narrowing her eyes towards the half elf. “That kind of joke is too dark.”
Adam held her gaze, not stepping back. “It's not a joke.”
Vasera stared at the half elf, tensing up slightly. She recalled just how terrifying his strength was, but there was no way he could defeat a Paragon, and also… “You should be honest with us if you want us to work for you.”
“Adam speaks the truth,” Jurot said.
Vasera’s eyes remained upon the half elf’s, faces flashing before her eyes, from the little green skinned Jirot, to the silver scaled children who held that family’s blood. The half dragon winced, half punching Adam’s shoulder gently. “I want to see how strong you really are. Let's fight tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Adam replied, noting the pain in her voice.
“I will fight you too,” Rook said.
“Sure.”
Rook leaned in towards the half elf. “We’re sorry to hear about your children.”
Adam slowly nodded his head in returned, clearing his throat. “I hope you understand why I was so eager to do business with you this year.”
Vasera bowed her head.
“I’ll have Jurot speak the tale to you.”
“Tomorrow,” Vasera said, motioning two fingers towards the worker. “Let’s feast!”
Adam inhaled sharply, exhaling long and slow, trying to let the grief slip through his chest. ‘At least the Iyr brought them back…’
2025-10-16 17:00:13 +0000 UTC
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The toddler reached up towards her aunt’s chubby hand, the girl’s silver eyes almost piercing with innocent. “You must not work hard, kako.”
“I am not working hard,” Pam reassured the girl.
“You are comfortable?”
“I am very comfortable,” Pam stated, smiling warmly towards the girl. She couldn’t help but feel that Konarot was her sister’s sister. The girl’s hand was so soft, similar to her own, though hers were also thick from years of labouring within a bakery.
“We are watching over Damrot, so you can rest, kako,” Konarot informed, as though Pam didn’t understand.
“Thank you.” Pam smiled, holding the little girl’s gaze. When they had first met, the girl had almost killed her mother in a fit of rage. She was almost unrecognisable now, so soft and tender, though she continued to hold the responsible streak within her heart.
Virot remained wrapped around her elder sister like a blanket, the girl sucking her thumb while Kirot held her, even as they sat together. Karot, on the other hand, sat beside Damrot, not noticing how his cousin was so happy to remain at his side. Sometimes Damrot would look up and stare at his cousin for a long while, and Karot would meet his gaze, the pair smiling, before Karot returned his attention elsewhere.
Damrot then looked up towards his mother, catching her eyes, the boy smiling with delight, his mother returning a gentle smile.
Pam considered how the boy was growing up in the Iyr. There was not a day she worried for his next meal, and though whenever he was sick she worried as a parent would, the Iyr’s Shamans spent no time at all administering various remedies. She wasn’t sure even the royals received better care for their children. It was awkward, however, that there was such little exchange of coin. She worked, but earned no pay. She gained so much, but spent no silver. She thought about how many thousands of gold she had asked for her marriage, only to be unable to spend it within the Iyr. Such a strange life, and yet, how could she deny how well Damrot was being raised, nor her youngest, even her future children.
“Mama,” a babe called, the boy staring up towards a figure.
“You are your sister’s brother indeed,” the old Iyrman replied, one armed, one legged, though good enough to manage to catch the likes of the crawling Xarot. Jarot grabbed the boy by the back of his clothes, which went from heel to neck, the boy hung in the middle of the air, blinking towards his greatfather. He smiled and cooed with excitement.
It had only been recently when he…
“You can trouble me as you please,” Jarot said, pulling the boy onto his chest, the pair cuddling one another. ‘To think the Iyr would dare to keep them away for this long…’
What could the old monster do? It was one thing to wield his blade against the entirety of Aldland alone, but against the Iyr, even with the Family Head and the Family Elder complaining, there was little they could do.
“Bab,” the girl called, pointing towards the old one armed Iyrman.
“Yes, my Monarot?”
The girl held out a hand towards the old man, beginning to whimper and complain, until he finally lifted her up, pulling her close to his chest.
“This silly old man, how could he not spoil you?” Jarot rubbed his cheek against the girl’s head, who began to suck her thumb, cuddling into her babo’s chest.
It was during that time, his grandson remained standing tall and proud, as though ready to cause trouble, for he was his grandfather’s grandson.
“Magical weapons?” the Naqib asked, the young woman matching his pride for the moment, hiding away her nerves behind a practised smile.
“We, of the United Kindom, trade in magical weapons,” Adam declared, holding the young woman’s gaze within his own. He stood as one might have expected of him, not as Adam, but as an Executive of the United Kindom, not shirking away from the woman’s gaze. Though he would not have shirked the woman’s gaze as Adam, this time, there was no humour in his voice.
The Naqib remained silent from the half elf’s words, wondering why it was he of all people speaking up. Though he did possess a tattoo upon his forehead, he was no Iyrman, and he was not of Black Mountain considering his attire and his bearing, and the fact he wielded an axe. However…
‘Praise Noor I did not act the fool!’ The young noblewoman thought, glad she had not picked a fight with the group. Since the group hadn’t informed them of who they were in great detail, and she did not press them too much, they wouldn’t cause trouble in return. However, things had escalated quite awkwardly thus far…
“You said you were present at the Awakened Forest?”
“My brother and I were there.”
“I would like to hear the tale.”
“Jurot, would you?” Adam asked, since Jurot would know what to speak of, whereas Adam thought back to that time and recalled how the Iyr had slaughtered so many soldiers…
That day had engraved itself within Adam’s heart, and even today, Lucy’s heart suffered due to such a vision.
‘Hmm?’ The Naqib glanced between the pair. ‘Are they brothers?’
Jurot spoke the tale for all to hear, confirming that Adam was indeed his brother, but also what had happened at that time. They hadn’t known each other long when it had happened, his mother had been so ill, and they had run out of a specific herb, or at the very least, they did not wish to utilise their last reserves for an adult when a child may have suffered during that time.
‘The Iyr…’ The Naqib swallowed. ‘It truly exists…’
The presence of Black Mountain and the Black Lion eased the soldiers somewhat, and after they sparred together, the awkwardness between the groups all but dissipated. However, there was something the soldiers had noticed, and something the group themselves had noticed.
‘It’s been too long,’ Brittany thought, her eyes upon the Executive. Even as they travelled, and they had passed by that date, the half elf had remained quiet, and held a heaviness within his heart. ‘I hope nothing goes wrong…’
The day passed by and the group continued along their way to Five Moons. The sun beating ahead of them, threatening to blind them as they approached the dark stone gates of the Order. The towers remained looming tall, the gates thick, also dark. The gates opened, revealing a familiar figure.
Black from head to heel, her vestments, though similar to those of Black Mountain, held the slightest hint of purple, and the silver was even brighter. Her beautiful face remained as a blessing to the world, as dark as the night sky, her eyes silver, her face the kind to cause men to war for, holding the supernatural fae beauty. A silver amulet fell in front of her, shaped in a crescent moon, and at her side she wore a pair of silver khopesh.
“The Moon Mother’s blessings upon you,” Mother Crescent greeted the group.
“Moon Mother’s blessings to you,” Adam replied, accidentally speaking up, though he spoke very differently to the Adam they knew of.
“It seems your journey has been tough,” Mother Crescent said, motioning with her arms, inviting the group within. ‘Who was it that defeated you so?’
The figures eyed up the half elf, some with scorn, before realising this was the half elf their sisters had warned them of, but he seemed so…
Just who was it that had beaten the half elf to submission in this way? Except, as he stepped in, his eyes darted around, meeting the gaze of a particular figure. She was, like all the other women around, utterly stunning, though her skin was darker, almost black as obsidian, and eyes like the stars, for the silver held specks of gold, not like the Divine, but one could be easily convinced.
The Full Moon of the Five Moons.
As she held Adam’s eyes, the thought of the half elf finding defeat had disappeared, for his eyes held such an edge. However, what was it that caused the half elf to change from the fool he was only a few months past into this…
What was it?
“Do you wish to speak?” Mother Crescent offered, hoping to ask the half elf all manner of questions, to understand what had happened.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’m just deep in thought about this and that,” Adam replied, his eyes trailing upwards, towards the bright sky.
At first, Mother Crescent had thought to prod him, but she noted the eyes of the young half elf’s brother, and took the warning to heart. Whatever it was, the half elf needed his own space. At the very least, he wasn’t acting like a fool any longer, except…
Did she really prefer him this way?
2025-10-15 17:00:12 +0000 UTC
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Afraz couldn’t help but laugh, listening to Adam’s tales, the old man reaching out to pat the half elf on his back. He made to speak, only to burst out into laughter once more.
Indeed, what could be funnier than showing those old fogies what’s what?
“Ahm, have you thought about coming back with us to the Iyr?” Adam asked, still noting the aura of dourness emanating off the old Aswadian.
“I was born and raise in this land, and I intend to die within it,” Afraz replied, the old man smiling a reluctant smile.
“You know, my daughter is a big fan of your stories. If you come by and just spend a little time at the Iyr, when we pass by this way, we’ll escort you back.”
Afraz smiled awkwardly, but he hung his head low. He had already resigned himself to die here. Though he had never brought his blade to his neck, there was no reason to step out of the village.
“It’s a little rude of me to say due to my ears, but it’s never too late to hold a fire in your heart, whether you’re five or fifty, or I guess, seven or seventy?” Adam’s own smile was awkward. “If you have a price, just say it, what could be too much for the likes of my children?”
“It’s too late for that now, but I will live well with the thought that your daughter, who troubles you so, enjoys my tales.”
“Perhaps, if she’s willing to step out of the comfortable Iyr, I’ll bring her here?”
“Perhaps.”
The group remained within the village for the night, before stepping out the next morning to a smiling Afraz, who waved at them, watching them go. He looked up towards the sky, the sun at his back, and wondered. He, who had retired so long ago. Perhaps if he hadn’t, would he be known as well as the likes of the Radiant Blade, Scholar Muh, or even the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa?
They approached the military outpost by late afternoon, Korin’s magical steed a blessing indeed, where the Order of Black Mountain spoke with the military, and once they were done, Dunes returned to Adam.
“It is awkward to stay, but they have allowed us to take camp nearby,” the Mo said.
“Sounds good to me. I assume I won’t be able to, you know…”
“No.”
“There’s a stream nearby at least…” Adam frowned. “Are you sure you can’t ask them for it so we can complete our prayers?”
Dunes inhaled sharply and made his way to speak with the Order, who allowed them to enter the fort in order to bathe and complete their prayers.
Adam sighed slightly, thinking if perhaps they shouldn’t just continue, but let it slide. The Naqib eyed up the half elf, who wore such a symbol around his neck. She was a younger woman, no doubt a Young Lady of a family, who wore such fine, shiny armour, the curved blade at her side beautiful, magical, no doubt. She wore a scarf around her head, only revealing her eyes, which narrowed with suspicion at the half elf.
“Who is that one?”
“He is Mo Adam, a friend of Black Mountain, and the Iyr,” a soldier replied.
“His tattoos, is he an Iyrman?”
“No.”
“The Iyr will pay well for such information, a fake Priest…”
“…”
The Young Lady narrowed her eyes further. “Did you not say Iyrmen travelled with them?”
“Yes.”
‘So he must be related in some way.’ “Mulazim, was it not the Iyr who slaughtered so many of our warriors northward a few years ago?”
“That is… true, Kal.”
“Should we not gain justice for that day?”
The Mulazim hoped the Naqib was joking.
“Bring them to me,” she said, her eyes following the disappearing form of the Mo.
The Mulazim stepped out, approaching the group. He went alone, the man adorned in breastplate over chain, a blade at his side, though perhaps his greatest weapon was his experience, especially when it came to Iyrmen. He noted all the looks upon him, and then the sight of the figure with red skin and horns. He paused.
“Mulazim,” Jurot called. “What brings you here?”
“There is… a little trouble,” the Mulazim said, eyeing up the rest of the figures, noting just how many Iyrmen there were, bowing his head to the various figures all around. “The Naqib hopes you are willing you step within the fort for questioning.”
“What trouble is there?”
“There was a massacre at the forest a few years ago, and she wishes to hear the tale from the Iyrmen’s perspective,” the Mulazim said as diplomatically as he could.
“Okay.”
“What fortune,” Chosen began, grinning wide. “It seems the Naqib is wise.”
“She is,” the Mulazim replied, in the sense that she wasn’t that wise, but what could he say? He sighed, eyeing up the oldest pair within the group, or at the very least, the oldest looking pair. One looked vaguely familiar, the other, the Iyrman, held that kind of presence. ‘Naqib, please.’
As the group approached the fort, led by the Mulazim, the fellow smiled towards the Naqib in such a way, and the woman smiled in return, holding up a hand for them to stop, but before she could speak, she noted the appearance of three figures which caused her heart to skip a beat.
‘…’
“Mister Bael, look,” the girl said, pointing up towards one of the towers. “It looks like a manta ray.”
“It does,” Bael confirmed, a slow smile beginning to slip through.
The Naqib wasn’t sure which group of three was more terrifying, the three children surrounded by Iyrmen, or the three whom watched over the children, from the vaguely familiar figure, to the half dragon, to the Iyrman with the bow.
Then there was the Black Lion who had entered earlier with Black Mountain, though now that she thought about it, hadn’t he stuck by the half elf’s side?
“Good evening, I apologise for the rudeness,” the Naqib said, flashing a warm smile. “I was informed of your arrival recently, and I hope you took no offence to our request, however, I could not, in good conscious, allow such fine folk to remain outside our safe walls, especially with so many children.”
Ashmir narrowed his eyes, for she was certainly the child of a noble, with how she described them as folk in that particular manner. She did not know enough fear, that much was for certain.
“Mulazim, please escort them to one side, and I will send for the appropriate refreshments,” the woman said, her voice barely muffled by her scarf, and by the relief of having not continued with something she would certainly come to regret.
The outpost was made of a wooden fence that ran all along the perimeter, then upon a raised mound, the fortress proper was built of stone, with three towers, one to the north, one to the south east, the last towards the south west, allowing the sun free passage over the centre of the fort, unabated. The buildings were made of stone too, most painted white, some painted yellow, grey, or black. There were dozens of soldiers, each in groups of ten, as one might have expected, each adorned in scale, with curved blades at their side, their turbans a deep blue, almost black. They were soldiers indeed, for they held a great pride within themselves, and glared towards the newcomers.
Once the group had settled themselves, the half elf returned, right when the Naqib had worked up the courage to return, for she couldn’t just leave them be within the outpost.
“What are you guys doing here?” Adam asked, noting the appearance of the woman, surrounded by a pair of bodyguards, and another older man, who smiled politely.
“The Naqib wishes to hear the tale of what happened at the forest all those years ago,” Jurot replied.
“The forest?”
“The Awakened Forest.”
“Oh! Isn’t the Naqib lucky?” Adam’s lips formed a smile as his eyes darted to the older Aswadian man. “After all, my brother and I were there.”
The Mulazim blinked, and the Naqib flushed slightly, partly because the half elf had looked to the Mulazim, but also because…
What?
He was there?
“I am the Mulazim,” the Mulazim said.
“Oh.” Adam flushed. “Let me guess, it’s the young woman who is the daughter of a famous noble family?”
The Naqib blinked, doing her best not to react to the obvious provocation. Her eyes darted to the Mulazim, the fury simmering within her eyes, but what could she do? He was still a Mo, but even then…
“Mo, is there a need to be so rude?” the Naqib asked.
Adam closed his eyes, taking a long moment to inhale and exhale. “Sorry, I got a little too comfortable after my bath. I apologise, Naqib. It’s just, I’ve had great trouble with nobles, and nobles have great trouble with me.”
“What kind of trouble do you have with nobles?” the Naqib asked, suddenly far more interested in this justification.
“They dare to look down on me because-,”
“Adam,” Jurot called, holding the annoyed look within Adam’s eyes.
The half elf then smiled. “Ah, well, I suppose the typical reasons why nobles get into fight with… people they think are commoners. Although, that being said, the Amira has been quite nice to us, compared to almost every other royal we’ve met.”
“You have met with the Amira?” the Naqib asked.
“She treated us rather politely,” Adam said, with a tone that implied he was rather fond of the Amira’s behaviour, something a commoner shouldn’t dare to suggest. “She even gifted myself and my brother a set of necklaces for our wives.”
“Of course, the Amira is always polite, but how did you come to meet the Amira?”
“I beat up a lot of important-,” Adam began, pausing. “Oh, no, actually, it was because she wanted to buy magical weapons.”
The Naqib blinked.
2025-10-14 17:00:20 +0000 UTC
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The port town provided great relief to the travellers, especially during such a turbulent times, the Reavers far in the distant horizon. The dockguard checked that particular ship, but upon seeing the pair of half dragons, one blue, one green, they kept their heads down and politely allowed the group to slip out of their ship to a nearby inn that evening.
Taymora allowed the Iyrmen to speak their tales, but he was most interested within a particular pair of half bloods. However, both were difficult to approach, for one was the descendant of one family, while the other was a descendant of another, each the kind to cause him pause.
Even the rowdy sailors within the inn understood not to deal with those who were escorted by two half dragons, as well as so many Iyrmen. Even if the Iyrmen did not like to fight upon the sea, upon a deck they were still among the greatest of warriors, even those who were typically armoured.
The group did not stay long within the inn, and after thanking the Captain, they made their way along on riverboats, wishing to move swiftly with so many figures. Kizwolima enjoyed sitting near the edge, allowing the water to spray her now and again, while Amal remained firmly fixated against Adam’s chest, who would sometimes hold her near the edge, letting her see the water crashing against the bow of the ship.
John couldn’t help but wonder how much it cost them to travel with so many ships, especially considering they needed an extra few to carry their carriages. Again and again, he understood the difference between himself and all these figures. ‘…’
They passed through the various villages along the river, staying at one, offering the spear within the scarf as they typically did, as well as hiring various guides, continuing along their way, until finally reaching a particular village, where they could no longer follow the river due to it dipping southward towards…
“Once more, I am grateful for your assistance,” Taymora said, still in his half dragon form, with dark green hair, dark skin, beautiful green eyes, wearing a more effeminate appearance than one might have expected. “I will return to my lair and select from my treasures a suitable reward.”
“It was the duty of our Order to assist,” Lani said, being directed by the eyes of those of Black Mountain who were older than her.
“It is an honour to hear that from you, Sword of the Lady,” Taymora replied, bowing his head, causing the young woman to flush, the excitement flooding through her body, tingling all across her skin. The half dragon, who was actually a dragon in disguise, then turned towards the Iyrmen.
“Do you have small trinkets we can gift to children?” Adam asked, taking the opportunity. “A mountain of brightly coloured gems which are worth little?”
“I have little worth little.”
“We would like some light trinkets you are willing to part with that we may gift to our children.”
Taymora considered his words, of the half elf, who was no Iyrman, whose wife was no Iyrman, and yet his children were Iyrmen. “I am able to procure such.”
“Would you like for us to escort you?” Adam offered.
“No,” Taymora replied firmly.
Jurot shook his head towards the half elf, who cleared his throat. “Lord Taymora, safe travels.”
Taymora raised a hand towards them, before he spun on his heel, shifting from a half person into a long serpent of green and flew into the air, the villagers nearby staring in awe, though they were familiar with Lord Taymora, who was their patron, but even they hadn’t seen him shift often, and it was still rare to see him.
Since they had assisted their Lord, the village hosted the group, listening to the tale of how they assisted their Lady.
“Do not feel offence,” Jurot said. “Lord Taymora is secretive, only a handful of figures are welcome within his lair.”
“Yeah, my bad, I forgot we’re just that strong,” Adam replied, doing his best not to smile.
Bael wondered what Taymora was doing considering he had been missing since the last time they had passed by, roughly two months ago. However, Taymora was one of the few dragons he had met that had left him be, and he showed little fear, but also didn’t glare towards him, so since Taymora left him be, he left Taymora be.
“Does Lord Taymora have any kids?”
“There are very few dragons as secretive as Lord Taymora, and it would be best not to ask too much about him, especially in this village,” Jurot said.
“Oh.”
Brittany could finally relax, the young woman finally relaxing within the bathtub, the half elf having warmed each up with his magic, allowing them all to relax within the village. The villagers had already welcomed them well enough, but the half elf had also warmed up a great many more basins for them all, more than eager to assist for a few minutes for the next few hours. She thought of how hard he worked, and seeing how weary he had become on the journey, and yet continue to push forward. She thought about how much he pushed them, but she couldn’t help but feel she couldn’t even think poorly of him, considering how he worked the hardest. She then thought of the other hard worker…
John finished his evening routine, feeling the ache in his body. It had been a while since he had last rested, he could feel the ache not just within his muscles, but now deeper, into his bones. He could feel how his body slowed with his movements now.
“You must train at half rate for the next week,” the voice said, Nirot watching over him with her arms crossed.
“…”
“It would be best to allow your body to rest for a short time, so you can train harder the week after,” Nirot informed, understanding that John would find it uncomfortable. He had yet to learn about how his training would break down his body further if he continued, and not in the way that was conducive to turning him into a figure that could rival the likes of the Grand Commanders, the Fariqi, of the various Orders.
John nodded, having noted how the Iyrman had taken the responsibility of assisting him with his training. He supposed it was difficult for the half elf to give him much attention, but from what he knew, the woman was a Rage Dancer, and he was meant to be training to become an Oathsworn. His other trainer was Yasha, who was at least training him in spearplay, but then there was the issue of fighting within heavier armour, but he supposed that would come in the future.
If he joined them.
The next morning Yasha trained, training lighter than usual since John had only trained half as much as usual, glad for it, since even though she liked to train with him, the Aldishman would often outdo her, not because he tried, but because that was the kind of training he knew.
From the heavens, the green dragon descended, and waved a talon, revealing several pouches before the group. She had brought along sacks of silver, gold, trinkets, and gems she had personally cut down to the size of a fingernail, smoothed for the children.
“You are a star, Lord Taymora!” Adam beamed brightly, noting all the pretty gems, and since they were part of Lord Taymora’s hoard, he’d be able to show off much more.
‘What a heavy heart this young man has…’ Taymora also handed over a set of finely crafted weapons, out of respect to the Deathsingers, one of which had been enhanced with his poison breath. The Lord watched as the group made their way out, Chosen and Tanagek both eyeing up the poison sword, though it was Taygak who held it, as she held a great number of swords. Even they could not dare to covet such a weapon.
Upon their break, Adam sent word ahead to a particular figure, until they finally came to the village at evening.
‘Oh!’ Adam thought, upon seeing the shorter Aswadian, his head bald, his eyes a deep blue, well muscled. He was adorned in scale, upon his back a large longsword.
“I see, with these old eyes of mine, as drunk as I am, my niece and nephews!” Afraz almost exclaimed, reaching out to greet each of the returning Iyrmen, especially the Gaks. “What is this? Another niece of mine?”
“She’s my daughter,” Adam replied, showing off the chonky girl to the old man.
“She is not,” Jurot said. “Yet.”
“What? Do you see this, ahm? My own brother dares to covet my daughter!”
Afraz laughed, patting their shoulders, before reaching out to the little girl. “Come to me, betti, this old man, he’ll pick the right father for you, yes?”
The girl hid her head into Adam’s neck, glancing back shyly towards him, causing the old man to laugh.
“It seems she has already decided?”
Adam smirked, nuzzling against the girl’s cheek gently, holding her close to his chest. “Amal is as smart as she is chonky, isn’t that right?”
Amal returned to hiding within Adam’s neck.
2025-10-13 17:00:14 +0000 UTC
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The ship was beautiful, in the sense it was built to be a ship first, and held little to no frills. It was extremely large, large enough to carry all of their carriages upon the deck. The crew numbered a few dozen at least, all busy on deck to earn all their pretty silvers. The three sails splayed wide pushed the ship ever forward, with various gems embedded within the masts, not yet glowing.
The Captain stood tall, a woman with greyed hair, half hidden by her loosely wrapped scarf, her deep blue coat trimmed with gold covered her scale, that of the sea. Her coat was unlike many coats, for it not the kind any Captain could wear. Her green eyes, sharp like a hawk’s, watched over the figures that could afford their ship.
‘I wonder whose kid he is,’ the Captain thought, her eyes glued to the half dragon who stood tall and proud on her deck. She assumed it was part of the reason why her crew was so eager to work, to keep their minds off of the fact he could have easily been a dragon in disguise. However, it was not he who caused her heart to tremble.
The sand giant remained within the centre of the ship, with a few others, each of whom did not like the sea. It was not them, however, who caused her heart to tremble. Nor the members of Black Mountain, or the Black Lion, and nor most of those with tattoos upon their forehead, nor the half elf they coalesced around.
“She recognises your tattoo,” Kitool whispered.
‘Grandfather…’ Jurot thought, certain it was through the Mad Dog she knew of the tattoo, since he had engraved it within the nightmares of so many figures. However, if she didn’t wish to speak with him, that was up to her, though he would need to remain on guard, just in case her troubles with his grandfather ran deep.
“Are you the one who leads the group?” Lira finally asked, working up the courage to step forward towards the half elf.
“I guess I do?” Adam replied. “Technically, Mo Dunes was the one who wanted to come, and we’re heading back now that our business is done, but I’ve taken the role of the leader, for some reason.”
‘…’
“I guess it’s because I get us into so much trouble so my brother can keep his blade sharp?” Adam mused, considering his trouble was not quite as terrible as he thought.
“Your brother?” Lira asked, glancing aside to the half dragon, her thoughts racing, for perhaps that was how they were related? Ah? Was this half elf really a dragon in disguise then?
“Yeah, Jurot.”
The Captain’s eyes remained upon Bael for a long moment, until they slowly retuned back to the half elf. “The Iyrman is your brother?”
“Yes.” Adam beamed, for this one the one question which didn’t annoy him to answer, no matter how many times he had to answer it.
“Iyrman,” she called, calling forth the nearest Iyrman, the kind with red skin and horns. “The half elf claims his brother is an Iyrman.”
Laygak smiled, for how could he not smile, when the Iyr had made sure to bury the fear deep within their hearts. “He claimed so?”
“Cousin Laygak, how could you say it that way?” Adam replied. “For the first time, Jirot will finally take my side, because she doesn’t want her father to die!”
“Adam is the brother of an Iyrman.”
“How are you related to… the Mad Dog?” Lira finally asked.
“He’s our grandfather.”
‘His grandfather?’ Lira remained staring at him for a long while, but he didn’t give off the aura of an Iyrman. “How did that come to be?”
“It’s a long story, but since we’re out on sea for a while…” Adam began to speak his tale, summarising most of it.
Upon listening to Adam’s tale, Lira understood, the half elf was the Mad Dog’s grandson. Even though he had summarised it, the half elf had alluded to a great many feats, especially when he mentioned the Orders across Floria and Aswadasad. When she had asked Laygak to confirm, he gave an answer that was vague, which all but confirmed the half elf’s words.
“How is it that you’ve come across such great adventures in your short time?” Lira finally asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
“Ah, well, you see, I bring trouble wherever I go,” the half elf replied, without a hint of shame, smiling proudly at his great ability. “It seems you know of my grandfather?”
Lira nodded her head, and said no more, her eyes looking to a past she hadn’t yet forgotten, for it was one of the first memories she had upon the sea, the bloody sight of the Iyrman who had butchered so many, then casually walked onto the ship in order to head to another town swiftly to bring down his axe upon many others.
The group had managed to make their way to the next town, staying but for one night, before continuing along their way. Lira approached the half elf, to speak how she knew of his grandfather, but as she did, a shout came from the crow’s nest.
“Mulazim!” called the seabird, the member in charge of watching the waves and clouds for trouble. “Dragons!”
The group tensed up, from the likes of Brittany, all the way to the likes of Jonn, for though many did not speak the Aswadic tongue, all recognised the word.
There, far in the distance, were a pair of dragons. Typically, one would try to flee, but noting the dragons and their movement, the Captain shouted, and the ship approached.
“A dragon already wounded is not a good claim,” Tanagek said, his heart no longer trembling with trepidation.
“Perhaps our presence will scare one of them away?” Chosen joked, but though he joked, it was a real possibility considering the great swath of magical items in their possession.
As though he were a prophet, the green dragon slipped out of the red dragon’s assault, and swiftly flew towards the ship. The red dragon chased for a moment, fire splashing all along the green scales, but as the green dragon darted towards the ship, the larger red dragon spun elegantly within the air and flew away, only for a stream of poison to follow them, but the fight was over.
The green dragon, long and slender, flew slightly above the surface of the sea, the sea spluttering against the force of its flight, and the dragon circled around the ship, and as it beat its mighty wings to slow itself, it latched onto the side of the ship, causing it to creek slightly and tip to one way, but the sand giant and crew members quickly scrambled to the other side. Thankfully, the green dragon flapped its wings lightly, and sprawled itself across the railings, doing its best to not crack, or at least break, parts of the ship.
“Many thanks to you, seafarers, for this Taymora was in grave trouble indeed,” the green dragon said, his eyes darting between seafarers, from the crew, to the half dragon, who held such a terrible scent indeed, and then the Iyrmen.
“It is good to see you in good health, Lord Taymora,” Lira called out. “If you require, we will escort you to the nearest town.”
“That is most agreeable, Mulazim,” Taymora replied, bowing his head, before his head swayed towards the half dragon, who smirked towards him.
“Lord Taymora, do you require healing?” Korin called.
Taymora bowed his head lightly, allowing him to approach, the young man expending much of his Oathsworn healing into the dragon, Kal Uli doing the same, before Dunes approached, expending at least two of his own spells. Seeing as he still seemed to be labouring, Adam stepped forward, causing the dragon to snap his hand towards him, the half elf under his oppressive gaze.
“My brother will heal you,” Jurot said.
‘Brother?’ Taymora narrowed his eyes, but bowed his head.
Adam frowned slightly, but he approached. He placed a hand across the dragon’s neck and willed his magic forth.
Lay on Hands: 45 -> 25
As he felt his healing, he narrowed his eyes, certain he was a Priest, but he was actually an Oathsworn? Yet, there was something else about him, something that smelled…
Ah.
“We shall be heading past your village, Lord Taymora,” Jurot informed. “Shall we escort you?”
“That would be agreeable,” Taymora said, glancing aside towards Lira, leaning in, inhaling the woman’s scent, for even if he forgot the name of the ship, which he wouldn’t, or the appearance of the woman, which he wouldn’t, he would be sure to reward the crew greatly.
“Who was the other dragon?” Adam asked.
“Zenifyr.”
“The Blazing Terror?” Laygak asked.
“Yes.”
All those who know of Zenifyr understood Taymora had no chance against the dragon, and that he was truly lucky they had passed by.
“Hey, Jurot, didn’t we meet with Lord Taymoraleaf’s family?”
“Yes, Lord Gordoleaf.”
“Ah!”
“The Poison Sword Dragon is his nephew,” Laygak said, smirking slightly.
Adam closed his eyes, remaining silent. He decided to pick up Amal, soothing his heart with her chonkiness. “Look, Amal, it’s Lord Taymora, a dragon.”
The girl hid her head within his shoulder, glancing back towards the dragon, before hiding again.
“Why are you so sca-,”
“Adam,” Jurot said, warning the half elf, even though he was speaking Aswadic.
“…”
2025-10-12 17:00:16 +0000 UTC
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‘How could this be?’ Tiger Sword thought, noting the various sheets of paper before him. He half thought his informants were drunks, but there was no way that would be true, and since so many other patrons had confirmed the words, apparently one of her people had also asked about them. He still couldn’t believe all this, however.
It wasn’t long before he thought to finally send for that man, for he was not so much of a tiger he could dare to ignore that particular fellow.
“If I had known it was you who had arrived, I would have hosted you and your companions,” Saud said, smiling awkwardly towards the Black Lion.
“There is no need to worry,” Uli replied, sipping the pink tea, so heavily spiced, sweeter than even most cakes. It was too sweet for him, but it was tea, so how could he refuse?
“What brings you to Mina al-Gabba, kal?”
“Am I not allowed to step through this town of yours?” Uli replied, glaring at the Aswadian, whose heart threatened to explode.
“Kal! How could you say such a thing? No, no, of course not, I just thought I could assist you, for I hold a little influence in this town.”
“I am here to escort these figures,” Uli replied simply.
“Who are such magnanimous heroes for you to escort them, kal?” Saud asked, smiling as politely as he could, for considering his information, they were quite the figures, but he wasn’t sure how or why, nor their true purpose within their town, which couldn’t possibly be to pass through.
Was life ever so easy?
Uli understood what the fellow was trying to do, especially since so many people asked around about the group. Of course, it wasn’t like he was going to stop them, especially since the group was the kind of group that brought so much trouble, however, even then, there were ways where it could go too far.
“They say a tiger within its den cannot be defeated,” Uli said, staring deep into his drink, the teacup half empty. “However, even a tiger hides under a dragon’s shadow.”
‘Those children, are they…’ Saud had heard about the Iyrmen and the children who would rise to greatness every generation. The last generation had been rather quiet, but during his time, there were countless names, the likes of Butcher Marmak, who could just glare at him to cower. “Is the Lion King truly accompanying them?”
“Yes.”
“…”
“You are living quite well,” Uli accused, trying to distract the figure known as the Tiger Sword, but also to continue to oppress the old man’s heart with fear.
“It’s all thanks to you, kal. Without you, I wouldn’t have survived the war all those years ago…” Saud swallowed, for it was true, if Uli hadn’t spared the old man all those years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to live. Even then, with Uli half dead, covered in his own blood, he hadn’t been able to even raise his head to meet the fellow’s gaze. Even now, the aura he gave off was terrifying, like a lion over a gazelle, rather than a lion standing tall against a tiger.
“I see your sister is well too.”
“Since she is so wise, I assume she’ll live twice as long and twice as well.” Saud smiled awkwardly, for how could he have survived this long without his sister’s support. Yes, perhaps it was Uli who allowed him to live, but his sister who allowed him to thrive.
Uli was glad to see the man still feared him appropriately, for if he hadn’t, there would have been a need to beat it into him once more. However, knowing Uli remembered him, Saud would behave moderately. His eyes scanned the room, so plush with luxury, the kind where Saud, a commoner soldiers, turned merchant and underworld boss, could act as though he were some kind of Faro.
Saud was glad the old man had decided to leave, and didn’t accept his offer to remain for some lunch, watching as the Black Lion left, adorned wholly in his armour, the kind that shielded him from most threats, and introduced threats which Saud could only kowtow before.
“Grandfather, who was that?” the girl asked, rushing up to her grandfather.
“That was my benefactor,” the Tiger Sword replied, trying to work up the courage.
“Oh!” The girl said, looking out to the Black Lion. “Can I become a Black Lion?”
“You will need to study so far away, and you will be unable to eat the delicious fruits of our town…”
“Oh,” the girl replied. “I will study to become a Black Tiger.”
“Hehehehe, well, the Ebony Tiger is someone else already, betti,” the old man replied with a chuckle, one that was full of nerves, for above even the likes of Uli, there was he, Usama.
“Not the Ebony Tiger, the Black Tiger, grandfather!” The girl huffed. “It’s a different colour!”
“It is?”
The girl huffed once more, wiping her face, her eyes holding that kind of gaze, the kind of gaze that suggested she was ashamed of such ridiculous words.
“Even if your brother wields the sword, you are the scariest, betti.”
“You are scary grandfather, that’s why everyone respects you, so you must respect me too,” the girl said, reaching up to hold his hand. “It’s now time to play the Amira game.”
“Yes, betti.”
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the group made their way to the docks, checking on their various carriages to make sure they were strapped appropriately, a figure approached. He was tall, lean, his skin dark as night, his grin not quite as bright as the sun, his hair striped, orange with dye, grey with time, and at his sword he wore a sword, one which was slightly thinner and longer than a typical blade. He wore all black attire, with a vest of emerald green, striped with white like that of a tiger.
‘I knew things were going too well,’ Adam thought, bracing himself.
“I apologise for not greeting such great heroes previously,” Saud said, smiling brighter, before bowing his head to Uli. “I apologise, I was predisposed to other matters, but hearing that the grandson of Flame Brand was here, I thought to bring a sword. May I?”
Laygak smiled as the old man looked towards him, turning to look at Tagak, who turned to look at Laygak, and then he furrowed his brows slightly.
“Instead of giving it to me, you should give it to Taygak,” a voice said.
Saud blinked, turning to face Adam. He had heard the grandson of Flame Brand was a part of the group, and then rushed his way over, having heard they were about to leave. “You are the grandson of Flame Brand?”
“I already get this enough from my daughter, why are you bullying me too?” Adam scoffed, standing a little taller, the annoyance rising to the surface. The half elf glanced aside. “Still, she thinks my leafshaped ears are cute, so I’ll forgive her.”
It was then Tiger Sword could feel it. Indeed, for he recalled the play of the Amira, where his granddaughter was the kind of Amira who rode the scariest tiger of the mountain, and who was a scarier tiger than he, the kind who slew tigers every noonval for fun? Indeed, this half elf, too, was a father. “I see. I will hand this to the young lady.”
Taygak accepted the sword. It was a beautiful scabbard, the kind that joined the sword perfectly, continuing its design. The scabbard itself was silver, but as she drew the blade a finger length, she noted the sword was made of quicksilver, holding waves of orange all along it, a fine blade indeed.
“Taygak, thank the good kal, since he has gifted you a sword that will one day carve your name into history,” Adam said, making a promise he fully intended to keep.
“Thank you.”
“Aha! You don’t need to thank me, just knowing the sword will be taken care of is good enough for me!” Saud laughed, still feeling the intense pressure of the others.
“What is your name, ahm?”
“I am called Saud, but my martial title is Tiger Sword of Mina al-Gabba.”
Adam remained silent for a long moment, and it was then Saud could feel it, something that tickled the back of his neck, his instincts warning him. “That’s a really cool name! Why don’t I have a name like that? You know what they used to call me back in Aldland? They called me Purple Adam.”
“Aha? What an interesting epithet!”
“It’s because I wore puthral armour.”
Saud blinked. ‘Puthral?’
“Nowadays they call me the Crazy Father, but Tiger Sword is a much better martial title. One day I’ll have a title like that.”
“Haha, nephew, there is no need to rush. One day, perhaps you’ll become a Master or a Grandmaster, and you will gain a fanciful title.”
Adam smiled, like a grandfather smiling towards a grandson’s delusional dream. “Yes, perhaps one day.”
‘Just who is this young man, surrounded by so many Iyrmen, who could wear such…’ It was then he recalled the half elf was an Iyrman’s brother. ‘Did he really mean a brother?’
“Ahm, thank you again for the sword. I’ll be sure to remember your name, and if we ever pass by, I’ll be sure to pay you a visit.”
“What a kind nephew to come visit this old man,” Saud replied, smiling, but he could feel an awkwardness in his heart. Just what was it? What was it about the situation which…
As the ships began to sail, it was then Saud understood what it was. Even standing so close to the half elf, he wasn’t able to figure out how strong he was, but at the very least, he was someone rather special.
2025-10-11 17:00:12 +0000 UTC
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Adam awoke the next morning, a healthy meditation followed by a healthy berating, before completing a light morning routine, stretching, and then finally bathing. As he donned his turban, the half elf stepped out to meet his companions for breakfast, over rice tanned by butter and spice, meat that was well salted, and vegetables that were coated in spice.
“Mo, I was going to send word to the Malawi, but I think it may be best for you to send word to the Malawi instead,” Adam said, as though he had learnt his lesson.
“What word should I send?” Dunes replied, raising his brows as though he didn’t know what Adam was asking.
“If we could also earn the support of Kal Korin and Lady Sara for the business,” Adam replied, with a wisdom that implied he was his wife’s husband.
Dunes remained silent for a long beat, holding Adam’s gaze. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleasantly surprised, or if he should mourn the half elf who he had fought beside. “I can inform him of such, though…”
“Though?”
“I am certain the Malawi will beat me senseless if I sent word now.”
“Ah…” Adam thought about it. “It’s probably better if you send word rather than me.”
“That is true.”
Adam flushed slightly, for Dunes was bullying him, but even he couldn’t refute the words. He thought of his daughter, who he couldn’t ask for support, since she would take her ahm’s side since the words were true, and though she was adorably harsh, she was an Iyrman, and spoke the truth.
“Why would the Malawi beat you?“ Korin asked.
“With how much I have troubled him?” Dunes replied.
“How much have you troubled Mo Adilnur?”
Dunes and Adam held Korin’s gaze for a long while, both recalling the Acting Malawi was now Adilnur.
“Oh, right…” Adam blinked. “I could message him.”
“It may be best if I…” Dunes paused. “No, it may be best for you to send word, since he likes you.”
“Being insane sometimes has its benefits, huh?” Adam joked, causing Dunes to smile, and Korin chuckled. The half elf then fed little Amal the sweet rice, while the girl herself reached out for the tiny balls of fruit, chewing them with a great confidence, for Amal was Amal.
It was a typical day within Forest Port, especially at the docks. It was their docks which held a great influence over the region, so it wasn’t a surprise the docks were given special attention by the noble families within Forest Port, each taking a slice of their pie, though none taking commander of the docks, allowing another force, a neutral third party, keep order. However, even with such a neutral force, there was plenty of trouble found within the docks.
Ironarm, his skin dark, lightened by scars of betrayal, glared at the group of Noskan, who had essentially quarantined an area for themselves, eating, drinking, laughing as they pleased. They had already fought quite a few of the dockguard, though they paid the various fines. However, to see them, the Noskan, act as though Aswadasad was their playground.
“Brother, don’t you think this is wrong?” Snake Tongue Yusuf asked. “We can’t let them behave like this in our land.”
“Do I disagree?” Ironarm Faisal asked, his arm wrapped in metal, amplifying his weak arm thanks to the gnomish mechanics. It was his blessing to have saved the life of a gnome so many years ago during such a troubling time for him, which had paid dividends.
“I say we fix the issue,” Yusuf said, ready to draw his blade, eager to spill Noskan blood, while the rest of his companions aroused with a flame within their hearts.
The Noskan lifted up the small cup of milk, staring down at it. ‘Their cups are small, as small as their will to fight.’
As a shadow loomed over the Noskan, his eyes darted to the side. He glared at the figure that blocked out the sun, though he was glad for the chill, for warmth made for weak bones.
“You have spent so long within the docks, but you haven’t paid your dues,” Ironarm said, glaring down at the Noskan.
“Dues? We pay steel.” Heavy Sword Tharak replied, placing a hand on the hilt of his large blade that leaned against the table, the handle of the blade wrapped in leather, the pommel a thick circle, large enough to fit five arrows, which is all he would need.
“We accept that too,” Ironarm stated, his eyes holding the Noskan’s gaze, their companions each growing hot with that kind of passion, the passion to spill blood all over the earth.
‘Noor take them!’ one of the dockguard thought. ‘It was bad enough to deal with those savages, but damned Ironarm is causing trouble too?’
“I’ll go call the Mulazim,” a guard whispered to the other.
“What will the Mulazim accomplish?”
“It’s better than nothing.”
The guard sighed, resigning him to the fact that they were powerful to stop these two groups, each roughly a half dozen strong, and each at least Experts. What were they meant to do against that?
The step of a fool of a father silenced the scene. He was tall, lean, his skin dark as night, his grin as bright as the sun, his hair striped, orange with dye, grey with time, and at his sword he wore a sword, one which was slightly thinner and longer than a typical blade. He wore cream attire, with a vest of emerald green, with white stripes. At his side was a beautiful woman, her hair also beginning to grow grey with time, her skin equally as dark, her eyes as bright as his smile. She, too, wielded a blade at her side, similar to the old man, and similar attire, though a scarf of white covered most of her hair, and her lower chin. Around them were a dozen or so figures, some armoured, some unarmoured, but all armed. Finally, a young girl who was chewing the dried fruit, stood beside them, in the emerald vest and the white strips, but also a colourful scarf she had picked out to wear while going on her walk.
“What is this? In this humble town of ours, nephew, you are causing trouble?” the old man asked, grinning like a beast, his eyes sparkling, while his granddaughter nibbled on her fruit, staring out towards the scene fearlessly.
“None at all, uncle,” Ironarm said, having not yet drawn his blade, and now far more reluctant to do so.
“What of you, Noskan?”
“If Aswadi fight, Noskan not run,” the Noskan replied.
“Too many will die if you begin to fight,” the old man said, still grinning. “So settle down while I am being polite.”
“…”
‘Who in this town will draw their blade in front of I,the Tiger Sword of Mina al-Gabba?’ the old man thought, still grinning like a beast, for even if they did, he and his sister would be more than willing to step forward to match, and with their guards, they would have little to worry about.
‘If the Tiger Sword has stepped forward…’ Faisal thought, before glancing aside to Yusuf, who raised his brows questioningly. ‘With a name like Snake Tongue, of course you’d want me to fight with him. I’m going to live for at least another twenty years, you son of a dog.’
The Noskan watched the retreating forms, and as they glanced aside, they noted the way the Tiger Sword glared at them, with such a large smile upon his face, and they understood they shouldn’t cause trouble. ‘He must rule the docks.’
“Heavy Sword,” one of the Noskan said. “He’s the Tiger Sword of Forest Port.”
“Sounds like a good fight,” Heavy Sword said.
“If you want to die, give me the tablet,” Storm Fox said, holding out a hand.
“If you can claw it from my cold dead hands, you can take it!”
The Aswadian could feel the trouble emanating from the Noskans, and he glanced aside towards his granddaughter, who tucked her hair behind her scarf, annoyed by the wind, before finally her grandaunt picked her up to help her.
‘I should-,’ the Tiger Sword thought, before noting the appearance of several figures, including one of them. ‘I heard one of them had arrived recently…’
“This place really is Forest Port, huh?” Adam said, noting the mass of trees sprinkled throughout the town, with a great many parks and orchards that expanded the town by at least threefold compared to a similarly populated town.
“It is,” Dunes agreed. “Did you know that the current Sword of the Forest descends from the figure who made sure to include the clause for the port town to always have as many trees as buildings?”
“What do you mean by a clause?”
“When they originally formed the precepts to guide the town into the future many years ago, there was one fellow, a fool they called at the time, who made sure to include such a clause, the wife of one of the administrators at the time convinced her husband to include the clause into the precepts, and now…” Dunes motioned a hand to the trees in the distance.
“That’s really cute,” Adam said, though he assumed it was quite easy for an influential family to keep their influence. It was rare for prominent families to fall, rarer than even a poor man rising up into the ranks of the rich. So what else could he call it other than cute?
Uli noted the appearance of the man in the emerald vest, reaching up to undo his mask, revealing his face, causing the old man’s eyes to widen with familiarity, before he quickly stormed off.
‘What is he doing here?’ Tiger Sword thought.
‘Ah,’ the Shadow Beauty Sword thought upon seeing Uli’s face, before it was hidden away behind the mask.
“Oh!” Adam gasped. “We need to buy another carriage!”
Dunes sighed.
2025-10-11 11:00:09 +0000 UTC
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“I do not know if I am able to reject you.”
“Why are you making it sound like I’m bullying you?”
Korin chuckled, sipping his goat milk. His mind wandered to the half elf’s request.
“Anyway, what way are you going to earn the Lady’s hand in marriage?” Adam asked, interested in his friend’s romance.
“I suppose I will have to find myself at least a Basic set of equipment, or Greater, perhaps?”
“Ah, wait, isn’t Sara related to the Matriarch?”
“Yes?”
“We ended up meeting with her and completed some business with her,” Adam said, thinking about how much could impress a woman like that. “You can’t just impress her with all Basic equipment, it’ll have to be all Greater.”
Korin was fairly certain all Basic equipment, along with his abilities, would be enough to impress that old woman, but for Adam to speak up like this…
“Since you aren’t being helpful…” Adam needed to speak with the one who held the keys to the relationship. “Lady Sara, what kind of equipment would impress the Matriarch of your family for Korin’s sake?”
“A set of Greater Equipment, a Greater Enhanced sword, and he must reach Master,” Sara said, knowing her worth. Of course, she may reach old age by the time he manages such, but she was willing to wait.
“Done,” Adam said, bowing his head lightly, Sara returning a bow of her own.
“How long should I work for you?” Korin asked meekly.
“Did you even want to work for me?” Adam replied, his tone full of annoyance.
“It is not that I am uncertain in working for you, rather…” Korin smiled awkward. “I am uncertain on my future path.”
“You want to marry, and presumably I’ll have a lot of nieces and nephews to spoil, right?” Adam looked to Sara, since it was ultimately up to her.
“Perhaps.”
“Yeah…” Adam considered for a moment. “Will they inherit your… fine magics?”
“Yes.”
Adam tapped the table, considering this information, having all but forgotten. ‘If she’s a Blood Mage, that means her children will become Blood Mages. They’re already hated everywhere, and she’s also a devilkin, so...’
Sara wasn’t used to this Adam who was not acting a fool, but rather considered the situation more seriously.
“Where do you want to raise your children?” Adam finally asked, holding the woman’s gaze.
“I would like them to grow within the Order,” Sara admitted.
“I agree,” Korin said, though they hadn’t even married yet.
Adam leaned back and fell deep into thought, considering their words. However, there was something even more important than what he was thinking about. “How much do I have to donate to the Order for you two to become our people? Not our people, but to remain with us, at our business, while still being members of your Order?”
“The Order must agree first, and you must give up at least two Greater Enhanced weapons to the Order for them to consider such,” Sara replied.
“Okay. We’ll discuss with the Order, and if they agree, and you are still interested, we’ll do that.”
Dunes couldn’t help but admire how easily Adam spent all that gold, but he was wise enough not to draw similarities between Adam and the nobles he so despised. Although, considering how cheap some nobles were, he supposed he was very unlike them too.
“Those of my persuasion are also unwelcome within Aldland,” Sara began.
“Yeah, even Iyrmen are troubled…” Adam scratched his cheek. “I guess they’re less troubled?”
“I am Lady Sara, descended of those who once ruled the Red Sea, and my children will remain the same.”
“If you become the Niece of a family, they'll provide you some support, wouldn’t they?”
“I would like my children to hold the same protection as yours,” Sara suggested, not so much tying her children to the Iyr, but rather, tying them to the figure before her.
“That’s difficult since my children are Iyrmen.”
“Excuse me?”
“My children were adopted into the Iyr more formally,” Adam said, struggling with swallowing, revealing the circumstances between such a decision. Even now, it hurt, not because it was a bad decision, but because it was a decision made through his weakness, though he were a father.
“They are Iyrmen,” Jurot confirmed.
Sara considered the words. She supposed it made sense, since the Iyrmen had acted so thoroughly, so if it was for the sake of one of their children, no, they were a little light, but she supposed it was an awkward situation.
“Can my children be raised in the Iyr too?”
“As Iyrmen?” Adam asked.
“No. I will support the Iyr with my magic, and I would like them to remain within the walls of the Iyr.”
“You'd have to ask an Iyrman I guess.”
Sara looked to Jurot, who crossed his arms and though. He looked between Sara and Adam, both of whom were looking at him expectantly. Jurot considered Adam within his thoughts and how much he favoured the pair, who they had travelled with for some time, and had even fought alongside against such vicious foes. He also considered Sara, who had assisted with her noble title too.
“If the Iyr raises your children, you will work for the business?”
“Once the payments are dealt with,” Sara assured.
“You wish for the children to be raised by the Iyr, but not to be Iyrmen?” Jurot asked to confirm.
“Correct. I will raise them. I wish for them to be safe within the walls of the Iyr.”
Jurot continued to think about her request. He supposed, technically, it could happen. Jurot then looked up at her. “If you work as an enchanter for the business for twenty five years, it can be done.”
“I can't enchant.”
“The business will teach you,” Jurot said, causing even Adam to raise his brows towards the Iyrman.
She blinked. “The business will teach me?”
“Yes.”
‘What is he saying?’ Sara thought. She hadn’t expected such an offer, but she supposed now that they were here, she would need to consider the fact that they were insane.
“Twenty five years is the time you must work for the business. as long as you work for the business for that time, then your children may remain in the Iyr. Once those years pass, you may choose to stop working as an enchanter for the business, and the children may be raised within the walls of the United Kindom. If you continue enchanting for the business, they may remain within the Iyr.”
“What about me?” Korin asked.
“You will train the warriors as Oathsworn,” Jurot said. “Do you wish to learn enchanting too?”
“Can I?”
“Yes,” Jurot confirmed. “Your children too, and such will be offered to Dunes’ children too, if they wish to remain within the business.”
Dunes let out a troubled sigh, the kind that was full of heaviness from the burdens he would need to shoulder.
“I prefer fighting,” Korin admitted. “Instead, I’ll trust that at least one child will be taught enchanting.”
“Okay,” Jurot said.
Adam remained silent, letting Jurot sort it all out, since he seemed to be working something out. He had no idea how much power Jurot’s words held, nor how power Jurot could wield, though from what he had seen, Iyrmen individuals possessed quite some power, as long as it was wielded within their family’s constraints.
“If you can offer that, we will agree,” Sara stated, since it wasn’t a loss to any of them, she supposed.
The children would be raised within the walls of the Iyr, and the business would gain an enchanter and an expert Oathsworn, soon to be trained into a Master, who would train their warriors. Jurot considered the thoughts for a long moment. Though there was a separation between the business and the Iyr, the Iyr held such great influence within it. It was also a way to form connections to other figures, through a more open form of communication, one under the Iyr’s sight.
Jurot considered the three options to make such an offer true. The first was for the Family Elder, his grandmother, to accept the offer. The second was for the Family Head, his aunt, to accept. There was also the third option, but he had thought for too long.
Lani sat nearby, having heard the conversation. ‘The business is going to make them into enchanters?’
“Now that I think about it, this conversation went easier than with Dunes…” Adam mused.
“That is because Korin is an Oathsworn, and Lady Sara is a Lady,” Dunes explained. “I am a Priest, so my considerations are not just about me, but my prayers. However, the Order may have to think twice, since the two were meant to bring the Order and the noble family together.”
“Then I’ll just bring them together,” Adam said, as though it were truly that simple.
“…”
‘I should send word to Vasera now that we’re done here,’ Adam thought, as though it were truly that simple.
2025-10-10 17:00:17 +0000 UTC
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The tale was unbelievable. Of course it was. How was it that after they left, a tsunami of trouble threatened to drown him?
Ah.
Right.
It was because Adam was Adam.
Korin had listened intently to the entire tale, though Jurot spoke the first half of the tale, while Adam continued the second half. He could hear the way Jurot spoke of what had happened, not just that so many Iyrmen came to assist, but there was something deeper within his words, the pauses within the tale that lasted too long. He understood there was a deeper political situation that had rocked through the Iyr during the events, but whatever had happened, he was glad the Iyr was the Iyr, and the children were brought back to life.
Sara thought of the twins, the same twins who enjoyed playing with her, listening to her stories, and would often praise her beauty.
‘Not as pretty as mummy, but so pretty,’ Jirot assured, the girl always so eager to remind the woman just who took first place within her heart.
Sara glanced aside towards Dunes, who had remained silent during the story. His relationship with the twins had always been strained, he was but a ghost who longed for more, and at the very least, this had brought them closer. She knew Adam didn’t seem to mind at all, but since Dunes himself was hesitant, the half elf hadn’t pushed for it, no doubt thinking of other ways to bring them closer. Sara frowned.
‘What a terrible way for them to mend their relationship.’
Korin decided against thinking about how Adam had managed to defeat the likes of Kal Yamas of High Garden, most things were difficult for him to understand when it came to Adam, but that was too much. However, to hear the Malawi stepped back when it came to Dunes…
‘He must have considered the benefit Adam brought to Black Mountain,’ Korin thought, glad the decision was made, although he was uncertain of how to feel about it. Adam was a great fortune, sure, but that also meant the likes of Adam could pressure Black Mountain in such a manner. It was one thing for the Iyr to do so, another for the likes of an individual.
Sara glanced aside towards Korin, who seemed to be deep in thought about the second most important manner, because he wasn’t annoyed enough to consider the most annoying thing, which was…
Lani beamed towards her elder brother, a smirk across her lips, meanwhile Korin completely ignore the young woman. However, even he had to eventually come face to face with it, and when he did…
“Stop it!” Lani complained as her elder brother grabbed her within a headlock, growling at her.
“Do you think a title has changed you from a milkdrinker?” Korin asked, the young woman replied. Many would not have assumed they were related, for the woman’s hair was much darker, though still held a gleam of red under the light. However, if they saw the pair like this, who could deny their relation?
“Stop it!” Lani almost began to whimper, trying to wrestle out of her elder brother’s grasp, until he finally let go, only to pick her sword, the eponymous title, feeling its great magic within. It was a Greater Enhanced sword, that much was for certain, but the sword he held and the sword Lani held were two different blades.
‘This sword…’ Korin glanced aside towards Adam, since this sword, without a shadow of doubt, was not one that was within the Order before his arrival. ‘…’
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Adam asked, though a small smile encroached across his lips, the half elf winking. “Anyway, what’s this about… you know.”
Korin wasn’t sure what, until he noticed where Adam was motioning his head, and Korin sighed. “I need to show that I am worthy of her, that is all.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I am considering slaying a great creature,” Korin mused aloud, as though he was able to complete such a task. “I can earn much coin, though in the land of gold, such is less impressive, or I could become a great warrior, a Master, perhaps?”
“I see…” Adam thought about it for a moment. It was rather annoying that he’d need to take Korin out for at least a year, perhaps a year and a half, then there would be at least a year or so before he would get married, and then almost a year later he could expect another niece or nephew to spoil. ‘That’s too long!’
Korin took great offence to the expression the half elf was making.
“What about if you possessed some fine magical items, not the likes of your sister’s sword, but something that you wouldn’t feel embarrassed about standing beside Mo Dunes, at least.”
“Why must you speak in a way to offend me?” Korin asked, half hurt by Adam’s words, but he was glad the half elf considered his feelings at least. “I am uncertain where I could…”
Adam, for once, managed to give the kind of look he often received from his companions.
“I could not afford such weapons,” Korin replied bashfully.
“When it comes to matters of gold, we could say you’ll work with the business for a few years or so to pay it off?” Adam offered in a way that suggested his concept of a few years came from his fae side and not his human side. “We need someone to teach the young, the new recruits once we get some, and I can think of very few better than the likes of someone from Black Mountain.”
“Indeed, one could suggest the Iyr may be able to match such?” Korin teased.
“We’ll take care of you both,” Adam pushed through, flashing a charming smile, the kind that said he wanted to trap Korin. “Also, if you end up having any children, we’ll obviously take such good care of them, and I’ll spoil them so much, and I’ll pinch their chubby cheeks…”
“You are speaking your thoughts out loud.”
“Excuse me,” Adam cleared his throat, but who could deny it, when it came to spoiling children, he was nearly outmatched.
“Are you planning on making your own force?” Korin asked, his tone playful, but his eyes far more serious.
“I need to create a force that will be able to deal with various situations which may arise,” the half elf replied, for once speaking so formally. “I need more warriors, I need to hire and few and train them, and I’ll need someone who can train them well.
“With the benefits you can offer, I am certain there is little difficulty in such a task.”
“I need a loyal group, Kal Korin,” Adam replied, holding Korin’s gaze for a long moment.
“If you need a loyal group, there are plenty of mercenaries who follow the Oaths of Gold. Usually they work for a few years under a group, and for quite a pretty penny. However, they have been known to work for a patron for generations.” Korin thought deeply, trying to recall the figures he knew of. “There is an Emira in one of the Ejirates, a young woman who has a third generation guard that branched off from a group. They say each member is paid their age in gold monthly, until they turn fifty and they retire. There are at least fifty and each become Masters in their lifetime.”
“That’s a lot of gold each month…”
“Indeed, for each guard also leads another ten warriors, each who are paid a typical wage. In Aswadasad, a member of the guard is gifted a goat, which provides them with milk, and their housing costs are reduced. Their children can apply for education from the guard too, which works closely with a temple. The education isn't quite as substantial as the education for merchants or nobles, but it is decent. The force rents out the equipment to the guards, for extremely cheap, but it's a steady cash flow for the force which pays for certain costs for its members. Equipment is maintained by the force too. They are given every few holidays off too.”
“Our business offers way more than that, I suppose,” Adam thought, trying to recall how much Experts were usually paid. In a cushy job, it was about fifty gold each month, though twenty five was the most common, only slightly above the United Kindom’s own offer of twenty. However, the United Kindom was the United Kindom.
“Experts are usually Mulazims. They're paid... anywhere between twenty to fifty? Usually those who are bought in as Experts from outside are also given an additional sum of gold every season, at least ten gold, but usually much more.”
“Are soldiers a similar way?” Adam asked.
“Soldiers are paid similarly, though soldiers gain a pension earlier than guards, and experienced soldiers also receive promotions to other sectors, especially in the courts of nobles. Guards may be able to become guards for nobles, but soldiers can often earn greater accolades.”
“We pay pretty well too, considering we’re paying quite similar and we also offering more education and healthcare and housing, our business can afford to covet you, huh?”
“Very few would refuse,” Korin replied, smirking.
“Yeah, I guess… Vasera, she refused.”
“She seems to like adventure and such. Many mercenaries prefer to make money while they're able and make a name for themselves. It is rare they have a family to deal with. Once they choose to settle down, then your offer will seem very great.”
‘Should we increase our pay,’ the half elf thought. ‘No, then I’ll have to work even harder!’
“You should create a sheet. Hire some criers and advertise in the towns and cities. Villages would be best though. Villagers will jump at the chance for a better life, those within the towns too. Not Tribesfolk. Tribesfolk are too insular.”
“Is this your way of rejecting me?” Adam frowned.
Korin laughed.
2025-10-09 17:00:13 +0000 UTC
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“It would have been really cool if I had bought the inn, then, when I walked into the inn, they would have asked, how did you get here, and then I could have said something like, what do you mean? Can’t I walk freely in the inn that I own?” Adam whispered to the side, out of earshot of the guards, speaking in the Aldish tongue, just in case.
Dunes shut his eyes tight, doing his absolute best not to burst into laughter, or cringe so heavily that it would allow tears to slip through his eyes. Uli, too, stood to one side, listening to the half elf’s words, but only because that was his duty. He also posed a great distraction, for adorned in his armour, with his lion mask, he stood out like a wolf among sheep.
It wasn’t long before a pair of figures approached, both adorned in the loose robes of Aswadasad, with the handsome dark skinned man now wearing a scar across his eye, a thick beard, his fiery red hair trimmed short, while the woman beside him, her skin purple, the deep red gem set within her forehead, eyed the pair up curiously, almost in disbelief.
“Can we not escape you?” Korin joked, stepping towards the pair, clasping their forearms in greeting.
“We did not allow you to escape us,” Dunes replied, before bowing his head to Sara, who returned a bow of her head, her eyes darting to the Black Lion, obvious as to why he was here. The pair also exchanged nods, while Korin went to clasp his forearm.
“I suppose you’re here to keep Adam out of trouble?” Korin joked, grinning towards the Black Lion, who shook Korin’s arm.
“No,” Uli admitted.
“Ah?” Korin’s eyes darted between the pair, noting the distance between the Black Lion and the half elf, realising the other reason as to why the Black Lion may have been here. ‘It seems he’s come to cause Aswadasad trouble too.’
“Adam, my condolences,” Sara said, taking the half elf’s hand within her own, closing her eyes as she muttered a gentle prayer.
“Ah? Well…” The half elf smiled awkwardly, tensing up slightly. “Thank you for your kind words, Lady Sara.”
“We heard once we were in Aswadasad,” Korin said, reaching over to pat Adam’s shoulder. “We heard about your justice too.”
“Justice, huh?” Adam replied, smiling awkwardly. “Enough about that, though! We have so much to tell you, about that, about everything else, and…”
“Hmm?” Korin mused. “What is it?”
“Ah, well, you’ll hear about it when you hear about it,” Adam replied simply, winking towards Dunes.
“How much trouble have you caused while in Aswadasad?” Korin joked, his eyes floating from Adam to Dunes, his smile turning to a frown. ‘It cannot be that much, I did not hear of it?’
“Do you wish to stay within the inn?” Sara offered.
“No, no, Dunes said I’m not allowed to buy it, so I decided to rest elsewhere,” Adam said, his eyes glancing aside, towards the guards who understood that this situation wasn’t what it seemed. The half elf smirked, watching as one of the guards stepped away. “Hey, let’s meet tomorrow at the, what’s it called?”
“Water Forest Inn,” Dunes explained while the half elf walked off, clasping his hands behind his back, the young man satisfied. As a finely dressed individual approached, he realised why. ‘When it comes to behaving so petty, you are such a genius too.’
“Many blessings, Mo,” the finely dressed woman called, in her early forties, and even as she approached, she floated towards them with grace. Her dark eyes were framed by long lashes, her hair hidden behind a bejewelled scarf, a robe of silk, silver, with red embroidery, elements of gold throughout. Her fingers were adorned in rings, one bejewelled entirely so it was more red with ruby than gold.
“Many blessings, Lady,” Dunes replied. “I apologise for loitering outside, but I will leave now that I have informed my companions of my arrival.”
“How can I say such a thing to the likes of a Mo of Black Mountain,” the woman replied, smiling warmly. “Do you not wish to stay within our humble inn?”
Dunes turned to look towards Adam who was whistling as he walked off, Uli following the half elf. “I am currently accompanying another companion who was forced to stay elsewhere.”
“You are welcome to stay within our inn if you wish,” the woman stated, more so coaxing the young Mo, but she had no idea what kind of force of nature currently kept Dunes on edge.
“I will inform him,” Dunes said, though in a tone that suggested she had been defeated.
“Who is your companion?”
“He is Executive Adam of the United Kindom,” Dunes informed, allowing the woman to scan her mind for a moment to see if she knew anyone by that name, or a company by that name, but he was certain she wouldn’t.
“He is an… Executive?”
“His role is that of the High Alchemist of the United Kindom, a business that deals with magical items,” Dunes said, before glancing aside to see Adam having turned a corner, all without him, and suddenly the stress of watching over Adam filled his heart. “I must leave to pray.”
“I can clear a room for your prayer.”
“I must pray with Mo Adam.”
‘He is a High Alchemist and a Mo?’ The woman understood why the guards called for her, however, why was it that the young man was accompanied by a Black Lion. As she watched Dunes scamper off, she turned towards the two companions, Sara, a Lady from a nearby town, and Kal Korin, of Black Mountain.
“It is best you don’t get involved with him,” Korin warned, chuckling lightly as Sara glared towards him. “There is a reason why both a Mo of Black Mountain and a Kal of Black Lion must watch over him.”
It wasn’t long before Ameerah sent a few of her servants out to try and find information about the half elf. She wanted to satisfy her curiosity before the group left, though it might have been difficult. ‘I should send…’
“Oh?” Adam noted the half elf who approached their group. The half elf stood tall and proud, sharp features, dark skin, dark hair, and bright eyes, almost silver. He wore no armour, but carried at his side a pair of curved blades, very similar to the likes of Scholar Muh, and though he wore a smile, his eyes were the kind that had seen quite some tragedy.
“Cousin, how do you fare?” Kahli asked, smiling with subtlety, the young man eyeing up the various figures all around, finding he was surrounded by quite a few great-
‘Is that the Lion King?’
“Quite well, what about yourself?” Adam asked, motioning a hand to allow the half elf to take a seat opposite them.
‘Did he offend Ameerah?’ the inn owner thought, noting how she had sent Kahli. Jorah, the stocky fellow with a greying beard, made a gesture with his hand, one of his own guards taking their place nearby, since he couldn’t just let Kahli walk around unopposed within his own inn.
“Well,” Kahli replied, introducing himself quickly, with a hand over his heart, noting all the Iyrmen nearby, as well as the Black Lion, and the fellows of Black Mountain. “It is rare to see a fellow faecousin.”
“At least there are more here than in Aldland, huh?” Adam joked, chuckling lightly.
Kahli smiled, the kind of smile full of sadness. He had been a young lad when that massacre had occurred, but which fae did not hear of it? “That is true…”
“Everywhere I go, they try to pick fights with me, thinking this leaf ear can’t bite back,” Adam said, letting out a frustrated sigh.
It was then Kahli understood the half elf had been raised by Aldishmen and had spent much of his time there, since he did not hold the grace of a typical fae. His heart ached for a cousin who was so uncivilised, but he could not blame him, since it was merely the environment he was born in, and his true nobility remained deep within his heart. “It must be difficult in Aldland.”
“I’m not sure about difficult, since I can just beat them up, but it is troublesome,” the half elf replied.
“I noticed your weapon, a fine axe indeed,” Kahli said, doing his best not to judge the half elf. ‘Even going as so far to use a savage’s weapon?’
“I prefer the sword, but what can I do when my brother uses an axe?”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah,” Adam said, nodding towards Jurot, who nodded in return.
“You are brothers?” Kahli asked, switching from Aswadic to Aldish, not wanting to be caught by the Iyrmen, just in case the half elf was lying.
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
Kahli remained silent for a moment, blinking, his eyes darting to the half elf’s forehead. His mind filled with a thousand questions. ‘What?’
2025-10-08 17:00:15 +0000 UTC
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Mina al-Gabba sprawled across the hills, the endless expanse of the sea beyond. The port town hummed with life, the townsfolk eager to go about their business, the bustling markets, the towering warehouses, the air thick with salt and spice. The stone walls stood tall, built proudly with Aswadic script all along the top. The lighthouse in the distance, the Grand Lighthouse of the Gabba, forged of wood treated with all manner of oils and, perhaps most importantly, magic, loomed tall over the town and the ships.
“You said we have to be careful of-,” Adam began, only to watch as Browns leapt off of Jurot’s shoulder, the group staring as the fat hill rat scampered away, only for a blur of black to snatch it out of the air, a lean panther crunching Browns within its maw.
Adam turned to look towards Jurot, who remained glaring at the panther for a long while as it caught his gaze, it glaring back. After a long moment it approached, rubbing its side and back around the Iyrman.
“Looks like he likes you, huh?” Adam said, mourning the loss of Browns, who he had known for a few minutes.
“She does,” Jurot confirmed, before dropping down onto the floor, beginning to meditate while the rest of the group checked their carriages and their items, just in case they had spilled something. Once he was done with his meditation, the Iyrman spoke with the panther.
“You slew my pet,” Jurot said.
“Pet was delicious.”
“You must remain with me until you pay the debt, or I will kill you in return.”
“If you wish to hunt, I like it.”
“I hunt great sky wyrms, not little kittens like you,” Jurot warned, glaring down into her eyes, the panther’s eyes no longer a glare, rather she brushed her jaw along his knee.
“Black Cat, are you causing trouble?” the guard atop the gate asked, placing a foot on top the half wall in front of him, adorned in scale and wielding a longspear, with a shield and crossbow hidden behind the half wall.
“No,” Jurot replied back.
“No,” Dunes translated.
“Is she accompanying you now, Iyrman?”
“Yes.”
“Be careful with that one, she’s quite the biter. She bit ol’ Saeed’s hand almost clean off, we had to ask some of the local Priests for some emergency healing. The Mulazim was so mad, we had to pay so much out of our budget for that idiot, but what can you do when he’s a son of a merchant?”
“He says to be careful,” Dunes translated.
“What else did he say?”
“A story about Black Cat biting Saeed’s hand clean off, then the Mulazim was upset because he had to use so much of the budget.”
Jurot let out a grunt of understanding. “Tell him I bite back harder.”
Dunes chuckled, while Black Cat looked up towards the Iyrman, who could still speak with animals for the moment.
“I will not call you Black Cat,” Jurot said. “I will call you Blacks.”
“Fine.”
The group entered within the town, noting the bustling town, while the half elf tried to spot any ne’er do wells, before considering what a ne’er do well looked like. ‘It must be that woman selling baskets. Only ne’er do wells sell baskets.’
“Blacks, with me,” Jurot said.
“What did you call her?”
“Blacks.”
“You can’t call her that.”
“Why not?”
“Hugging, raging, naming, these are your domains,” the half elf replied, though that wasn’t the reason he disliked the name. “I mean, I’m happy to take naming from you, but what would Jirot say?”
When Adam made a face that denoted he was his daughter’s father, Jurot’s heart stirred from the annoyance. “Kalee.”
“What does that mean?”
“Black.”
“I don’t want to hear how you’re better at naming than me any longer,” Adam said, holding up a finger to suggest he was serious about his words. “You could have called her the name of a legendary figure.”
“It is the name of a legendary figure,” Jurot replied.
“There’s a legendary figure named Black?”
“Your second name is Fate.”
Adam considered Jurot’s words for a moment. “I withdraw my complaint. What was she like?”
“Strong.”
“How strong?”
“She lived thousands of years ago, and at that time, she was considered the undisputed warrior of her age. For a century the woman, from those who the Aswadians may claim descended from, wielded a blade so legendary, so beautiful, so powerful, yet we do not know of the blade, other than considering it to be greater than even Legendary Enhanced. She wielded such a fine blade against the dragons which ruled, and stopped them from making moves for her entire life. Then, when she passed…”
“The dragons moved?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah…” Adam let out a long sigh. “Does one of the dragons have the sword then?”
“It is assumed.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
As they made their way through the main road of the town, they veered to one side upon Dunes’ request, approaching towards the domed building that was a large estate, a four beht inn, the kind with guards with breastplate at the front, eyeing up the figures as they approached. As Adam jumped out, he noted Dunes paused, before the Aswadian stepped forward.
“Mo,” the guard greeted respectfully, saluting the Brother, the woman beside him doing the same. The guard, who held a neutral face at first, smiled in that way. “Mo, you must understand.”
“I forgot,” Dunes replied with his own awkward smile. He glanced aside to his companions, then to the Lion King, who would be able to bypass such a requirement, but as he rubbed the side of his neck in thought, he decided to let it go. “I understand that you have a reputation to hold.”
“Shukhur, Arya bless you, Mo.”
“Arya bless you,” Dunes said, gesturing with his hands, before stepping away. “Sorry, I forgot that this place is particular in who it accepts.”
“What does that mean?”
“We are not well dressed enough, unfortunately,” Dunes said, before reaching up to run a finger and thumb along his beard. “Not myself, of course.”
“What? Don’t look at me like that, I look good. Great, in fact. My wife thinks I’m the most handsome man in the world!”
“Yes, I am certain she does.”
“Alright, well…” Adam shrugged his shoulders. “Where do we go?”
“It is no problem, we could head to the temple,” Dunes said, only to see the half elf’s eyes. “We could find another inn, one that is not quite so heavy upon our pouches?”
“Dunes! I’m rich!” Adam half exclaimed the words and he eyed up the nearby guards. “I want an inn even more expensive than this one.”
“There is no inn more expensive inn than this one, for it is considered a four beht inn, but that is the minimum price, and does not include the food, which is delicious.”
“I’ll buy the inn.”
“You cannot afford…” Dunes paused, considering Adam’s wealth for a long moment. “At this time you cannot afford it.”
“How much would it cost?”
“I do not know.”
“Hey-,” Adam began.
“Cringe,” Jurot stated.
Adam’s jaw dropped for a moment as he met Jurot’s eyes, before he shut his mouth. ‘It’s not cringe to outshine rich pricks.’
Adam continued to fume even as they settled within another inn, one completely wooden, but with a much livelier atmosphere, to the point even the obvious ne’er do wells were completely relaxed, including a particular fool of a father ne’er do well who spoiled the chonky blue girl with dessert.
“Mo! Shukhur, it is good to see you!” a stranger called, approaching Dunes. He wore fairly typical robes, with a hat that was not formed into a turban for once, though it was covered in silver thread. “We met ten years ago, when the storm rolled through, on the ship, umm…”
“The Mulazim with the…” Dunes motioned towards his head vaguely and the stranger smiled, nodding his head. “How do you do?”
“Shukhur, I am well,” the stranger replied, clasping Dunes’ hands. “Your prayers worked wonders for my parents, they have reunited, and I have two more siblings.”
Dunes suddenly recalled who this fellow was, smiling wide. “Aryashukhur, many blessings to you, your parents, your siblings, and…”
“Not yet, Mo, not yet. My father keeps telling me, he says, well, he does not call me by my name, he calls me bastard of a dog, not Nabil, not noble or honourable.” Nabil shook his head, holding up his hands, as though to say what could he do to his father? “I work at the docks, though, it does not pay much silver, but I can bring fish back to my family.”
“Fish is very good for the body,” Dunes said, smiling wide.
“Mo, let me buy you and your friends some tea, yes?”
“Ah, no, no, we were going to buy everyone else tea,” Dunes said, not wishing to take what little coin this fellow had.
“I will buy you all tea, you will buy everyone else tea,” Nabil said.
“Nabil, was it?” Adam asked.
“Shukhur, Mo, that is my name, not bastard of a dog,” Nabil confirmed.
“I will pray for-,” Adam began, before blinking. “My wife will pray that you find someone.”
“Shukhur, Mo.”
Dunes leaned in to whisper something into the man’s ear. Nabil suddenly straightened up, rubbing a finger along his collar, his eyes darting to Adam, his brain frozen solid for a long moment.
“Shukhur,” Nabil said, with far more fervour. “Many blessings to you, Mo!”
Adam smiled, glancing aside to Dunes. “What did you say?”
“I informed him of who your wife was.”
Adam grinned wide, flushing slightly red. “Shukhur, you are truly so wise Mo.”
“It is why you pay me the big bucks.”
Adam laughed, and because he didn’t have to hand over the gems, he continued to laugh. As they settled in, the half elf thought about using his magic to contact Korin and Sara.
‘Man, I can’t wait to meet them again,’ Adam thought, glancing aside to Lana. ‘Hehehe!’
2025-10-07 17:00:11 +0000 UTC
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“Kaka, reading,” the little girl said, holding up the book towards her eldest sister, the girl’s eyes so full of hope.
“Okay,” Konarot replied, allowing the girl to climb onto her lap, the two cuddling for a long moment, Konarot nuzzling Virot’s leaf shaped ear, before opening the book, allowing the girl to look at the shapes, while Koanrot read, her finger trailing under each word.
Virot sucked her thumb, her head resting up against her sister’s chest, half sleeping on the girl. However, even if Virot was so heavy now, Konarot did not refuse her youngest sister’s affection, rubbing her cheek atop the girl’s head, something which was a little more difficult on her triplet siblings, but Virot had no horns to scratch her cheek.
Kirot and Karot sat opposite, with little Damrot between them, the boy listening quietly to the tale. The trio enjoyed the eldest child reading to them, yawning lightly, growing tired with each passing moment, until Virot, too, began to yawn.
“Sleep?” Konarot asked.
“Sleep,” Virot confirmed, allowing her eldest sister to pick her up and carry her, the five year old carrying her youngest sister, waddling her way to their home, finding their mother following after them. Meanwhile, Damrot lifted off the floor, the boy turning up to look at his babo lifting him up with an arm. He blinked and smiled shyly, the old man claiming the boy as his own.
“Xarot?” Konarot asked.
“He is already sleeping,” Vonda explained.
“Ock,” Konarot exclaimed, reaching up to cover her eyes. “Mummy…”
“What is wrong?” Vonda asked, reaching down to rub her daughter’s cheek gently, pressing her thumb against the tip of her nose gently.
“I did not kiss,” Konarot replied, her ears, lips, and tail dropping.
Vonda could not hide the smile upon her face, brushing her daughter’s cheek, glancing aside towards the triplets, who also pouted, for how could they not kiss their youngest sibling at a precarious time like this, when Jirot and Jarot were gone? They had to watch over Virot and Xarot carefully, more so than usual.
“In the morning I will remind you to kiss him twice as much, but for now we must let him sleep since he is so small and requires more sleep, yes?”
“Okay…”
Vonda assisted the children with their night time routines, making sure to brush their teeth, wash their face, and then changed Virot, who certainly caused a mess within her clothie at this time just to trouble her mother. The triplets all surrounded their young sister, sleeping all around her, while the girl clutched her blanket tight in hand. Vonda smiled, settling herself in the corner, trusting her toddlers to watch over their slumbering sister well, the girl already snoozing peacefully.
Meanwhile, the old one armed Jarot held Damrot against his chest, allowing the boy to sleep peacefully against his chest. ‘Did you think I would forget you too, my Damrot? I will not, I will not.’
Pam couldn’t help but feel a little lonely without Damrot, but she also didn’t wish to deny that crazy old man one of his greatchildren since it was an awkward situation. She had already seen the way the darkness clung to him, the old man emanating a grave aura, the kind that kept her away.
‘He must miss them so…’ Pam thought about how much trouble the twins, mostly one twin, almost exclusively that twin, would cause her, but also just how much the two would trouble themselves for her.
As the void of the twins became more evident to them all, there was another Void which stepped through the Iyr’s land. He was adorned in the starry sky, a large hat which provided a shadow against his terrifying aura, with seemingly no weapons, a figure that would perhaps have been threatened within the land of those known by the dragons as the Deathsingers, but all he could feel was a single set of eyes.
‘To think you’ve asked me for such a favour,’ the mysterious figure thought, having spent the last few days doing what he did best, and though it was not his favourite art, it was an art he rarely utilised, a treasure to wield indeed.
‘To be able to use this technique again, upon…’ He thought about the bodies which required him to wield his art. He never thought he would use that art again for the likes of such figures, especially considering whose land he was currently within, that of the Lord of Death’s.
‘Should I have mentioned who else I used this art for?’ the figure thought, considering the gaze upon his skin, but he decided against mentioning it. ‘I suppose I should be glad I have paid off my debt, and considering the Thirteen Guardian Stars are unaware…’
As he approached the edge of the Iyr’s land, not daring to utilise any of his arts while upon the Iyr’s land, he stepped forward, finally out of the Iyr’s land, and now under the gaze of many others. However, now with a step off the Iyr’s land, the world around him began to shatter, like a broken mirror, and the figure disappeared, as though he had never existed in the first place. Though they probably sensed him, it was already too late, for he was gone.
Before dawn had come to the Iyr, they had stepped near, but seeing as the Iyr had sent…
“How may I assist,” the old woman asked, bald, serene, though she held the power to at least clash with one of them.
They decided against tempting the Iyr, for whatever had happened, it wouldn’t affect the rest of the lands. Whatever secrets the Iyr possessed, they were the Iyr’s to keep.
As dawn came to the village, the Administrator greeted the guests. “Do you wish to remain for another day?”
“No, I fear I am quite the fool, so if I remain, I definitely say something that will offend someone greatly, and then…” Adam chuckled playfully, reaching out a hand to shake Mirac’s forearm, feeling how strong his forearm was, something he had half expected. ‘His sister said he was the weak one?’
Mira watched as the group left, half with the thought she should follow them, but her mother forbid it, not wanting her to get herself killed. She had doubted her mother, but if there was a small chance she caused trouble with the Deathsingers, it was a chance her mother would refuse to take. However, a few drakken fellows followed them out, riding their large mountain goats, which were almost as large as horses, but slightly wider, still strong enough to carry the drakken within their scale armour, each wielding large spears.
As they continued along their way, a short while before approaching the gates, Adam had spotted something.
“Hello,” the half elf called, staring down at the little rodent creature, which breathed wildly as it lay there under the sun. It wasn’t quite so little, quite chubby in fact.
“It is thirsty and hungry,” Jurot said.
“Hungry? He eats more than me with a stomach like that.”
“He is a fat hill rat,” Jurot replied.
“A what?”
“A fat hill rat,” Dunes confirmed.
“That’s it’s name?”
“Yes. It is fat, commonly found in hills, and a rat.”
“Are you pulling my leg?”
“No.”
“Wow,” Adam said, glancing down at the creature.
Jurot ended up feeding it a berry, allowing it to sip out of his hand, and the rat stared up at him. The creature turned to look at Blues, who stared back.
“Blues outranks you,” Jurot warned.
“Squeak.”
“Let’s call him Browns, since he’s a small little critter?” Adam offered.
“Okay.”
“Blues, make sure you get along with Browns.”
“Teet.”
“Did you understand.”
“I will inform Blues,” Jurot assured.
‘Oh, right.’
As they approached the next village, the guards at the gate noted the kind of guards accompanying the group. They raised their brows, but the drakken guards riding their mounts shook their heads, since these figures weren’t the kind they needed to silence, but the kind they wanted out of their lands swiftly.
“Oh?” Adam noted the large riverboats nearby.
“May we take the riverboats?” Jurot asked.
“If you have the coin, we have the wood,” the drakken replied.
Jurot took a moment to consider, but he decided against buying any this time, but accepted the transportation, allowing the half elf to pay for it.
‘Oh? It’s cheaper than I expected…’ The half elf handed over a gem worth a hundred gold to pay for the travel, half expecting to get ripped off the next day.
Once they were on the ships, the half elf continued to think about how they were going to get ripped off, but as they approached the docks on the river, but a mile away from town or so, the drakken made no indication to rip them off. Even as they stepped off, other than a small fee to use the docks, they were not charged anything else.
‘The drakken are pretty nice, huh?’ Adam thought, thinking about coming by now and again, without realising how badly they wanted him out of their land.
2025-10-06 17:00:14 +0000 UTC
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“How was it that you managed to kill him?” Mirac asked, for there was too much ambiguity in the half elf’s statements, even though he spoke clearly. It was impossible, wasn’t it, for a young man to defeat the likes of a Paragon? It was one thing for Jurot to defeat his sister, but another for Adam to reach such a height.
Adam held out his hand towards Dunes, who unstrapped his swordbelt, and placed the sword upon the half elf’s palm. Adam held it tight in hand, noting the details of the sword he had enchanted, squeezing it tight as the tingle of great magic slipped through his hand and through his arm.
“This blade is one of the greatest magical weapons within our arsenal, and it was this blade which brought justice to the land, and some peace to the hearts of my children,” Adam said, his voice heavy, full of a threat, the kind that suggested it’s task was not yet complete, for how could it be, when there were so many who wished for the deaths of his children. “It was this sword which many wish to covet.”
“What led you coming to blows in such a manner?” Mirac asked, trying to coax more from the half elf, his eyes firmly pressed upon the young man.
“He wanted to call for injustice on behalf of his Vice Commander, who I slew last year,” Adam said, the flashes of the scene slipping into his mind, and his heart began to flutter with heat, the kind of heat that needed to spill blood, but even as his he grew itchy, he fought away the thoughts.
“Why did you kill his Vice Commander?”
“He killed my adorable children,” Adam replied simply, his tone full of darkness.
‘His children?’ Mirac thought, noting the half elf, then his brother, taking a moment to consider his words. “I am sorry to hear that, kal.”
“What kind of man kills children of three and two?” Adam asked, his gaze beginning to overwhelm the half dragon, who had yet to understand what he had said. ‘I should have slaughtered them like dogs.’
Mirac finally understood what the half elf said. He wasn’t a fan of the Aldish, they were almost as bad as the Aswadians, but at the very least they wouldn’t go around killing… Mirac recalled how many innocents died in the countless wars thus far, many of whom were children, but the half elf did not speak of war, but something else, he was certain of that.
“The Iyr showed them mercy, but they wished to die,” Jurot said, his tone ice cold, bringing down the temperature around them.
“The Aldishmen, they dare to spit on the mercy we of the Iyr showed them?” Chosen called out, the young man tensing up slightly, since such a thing happened to his nieces and nephews and he was not there to assist them. So what if he had not met his nieces and nephews? That was no excuse for failing in such a basic duty.
“They stepped towards our land with such an attitude,” Tanagek said, remaining calm, his eyes trailing towards Mirac. “At least they now understand.”
“They now understand?” Mirac asked.
“They came to our lands, demanding injustice for killing our children, and once they refused their vows upon the resolution of the duel, we deals with them justly,” Tanagek said, recalling how excited he was during the fray, able to fight beside his father, and watching his granduncle’s swordplay from so close.
“They killed… Iyrmen children?”
“Yes,” Jurot stated firmly, the others allowing him to speak the words. “My nephews, Jarot and Larot, and my niece, Jirot, was harmed.”
“It was Jurot who held King Merryweather at bay,” Kitool said, calming the Iyrmen around slightly with the words, and though Jurot could still feel the heat of rage through his heart, he calmed slightly from the pride.
“What a dark time indeed,” Mirac said, clearing his throat. “Your children are Iyrmen, but you and your wife are not?”
“Correct,” the half elf replied.
“Would you be willing to speak of this tale to us?”
“Jurot will speak it,” Adam said, standing up, making his way to one side. He, somehow, conveniently, managed to sit near the old man who was certainly just a gardener, the half elf greeting the people, before offering them a block of the smoked meat he had procured from the sand giants a while ago, which was still good to eat, especially with cheese.
Mirac listened intently to the tale, for he needed to write it down for their records, partly to spread the information, as the Iyr would like, and partly for their curiosity, especially his mother’s. The amount of names the Iyrmen listed, as well as their feats, caused his heart to beat quickly, especially since, apparently, the Deathsingers slaughtered so many fine Aldish warriors.
‘How will Aldland respond?’ Mirac thought, suddenly far more interested in the tale, out of a morbid sense of curiosity, but also because if so many figures were killed while the Reavers were active…
Adam spoke lightly with the villagers, many of whom were drakken, some human, most dark skinned, the drakken with various scales.
“Hey, why are you getting your ahm to pour you drinks, you punks, you should be pouring him drinks,” Adam complained, pouring the fellow who was certainly just a gardener some pink tea, while berating those of his generation. “Seriously!”
Manixzur understood the half elf had caught the old man, and the way he was tiptoeing around speaking with him was just him being coy. She had no idea the half elf was just a fool and hadn’t noticed anything. When Adam finally returned back to the group, the tale finishing a short while ago, he brought with him a platter of desserts they handed him.
“So they thought your children were goblins and demons?” Mirac asked, understanding how the Order may have come to slay his children.
“Yes.”
“So killing a go-,” Mira began, only for a roar to echo out towards her, the dragon growling and snarling towards her daughter. Her heart pounded wildly, for though her mother allowed her to live a life of causing trouble, even the old woman had her limits on what was acceptable, and provoking the Deathsingers was among such a limit.
Adam held Amal against his chest, the girl screaming and crying from the loud roar, though quickly soothed against his chest, sucking her thumb. “He wanted to duel, and unfortunately for him, I’ve never lost in front of my children before.”
“…”
Adam spoke harshly, too harshly, that kind of harshness that brought a chill in the air. He was, after all, a father still in mourning, and as he spoke, even his companions could hear the fresh pain within him. It was no wonder he continued to cause such trouble for his group.
“Would you be willing to prove your strength?”
“You know, I’m beginning to think that all this asking for me to prove my strength is a little disrespectful. If I asked someone like ahm Ashmir to prove his strength, wouldn’t it be disrespectful?”
“The Lion King has spent decades making a name for himself,” Mirac replied simply.
Adam let out a soft sigh, almost a hum. “Alright, fine. Do you have a two Masters I can face at once then?
Two?”
“Two.”
“…”
“…”
“Nevermind, kal.”
Adam glanced aside to Taygak, wondering if he should show off, but then recalled Dunes’ warning. “It’s fine. I don’t expect you to believe me. It’s not like the Iyrmen have a reputation for speaking the truth.”
“It seems your journey has been long,” Mirac said, noting the frustration within the half elf’s tone.
“Yeah.” Adam sighed once more. ‘We should have brought along another item that summoned a steed. We could have travelled so many more miles each day…’
The half elf wondered just how many more magical items he could make in order make his journey so much smoother. Storage rings were one thing, steeds another, but there must have been so many items they could use to make their journey smoother, easier, or just more agreeable on their stomachs.
‘‘I should enchant Greater Steeds one day. I wonder if I can pick that up? Flying steeds to carry us, but then if we're travelling on land we could have more pack animals? Or we could just have an additional steed to carry our stuff in general?’
“What kind of business do you do?” Mirac asked.
“We work with the Enchanter, one who enchants items for us to sell,” Adam replied.
“What are the prices of such items?”
“These days, about a thousand for Basic, two and a half for Greater, then some more for Basic Enhanced and Greater Enhanced.”
“What of Legendary?”
“We don't sell such items.”
“The Enchanter, can they make such?”
“Last I recalled, Lady Manixzur doesn’t like to give out her secrets, I would hope you would respect us enough not to ask either.”
Mirac smiled, the kind of cheeky smile as though he was caught, causing even his sister to side eye him. “What is your position?”
“I'm a Chief Executive Officer.”
“How did you gain the position?”
“Jurot is my brother. His mother is the President, and she holds the same rank as the Enchanter. I also am decent in smithing and alchemy, so I hold the title of Head Smith and Head Alchemist. You mentioned you were an Administrator? What do you do?”
“I am in charge of the day to day activities of the village, as well as guiding the nearby villages.”
Adam smiled. “You’ve worked hard.”
Mirac’s heart throbbed. “Thank you.”
They continued to chat. Adam thought deeply about all the matters, but then glanced aside to Taygak. ‘It’s difficult if we can’t fight much, sorry Taygak.’
2025-10-05 17:00:12 +0000 UTC
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Mira listened intently to Jurot’s words, she had to, for she had lost so brutally against him. However, after hearing his tale, his feats, and the feats he did not speak, she understood why she had lost to him.
‘So you were related to the Butcher?’ The half dragon grew annoyed with the fact she had held back, even slightly, but she understood that nothing would have changed, since the young man had also held back, making that quite obvious with his eyes, and that borderline cheeky smirk that threatened to encroach on his face.
“Since you are so strong, you should become my mate!” Mira finally declared, for though she was not the granddaughter of the Mad Dog, she had the right attitude.
Jurot, ready to refuse, felt a chill emanating from beside him, as his brother glared at him, sending out a threat towards the Iyrman. “You are not built like a c-,”
“Jurot!” Adam called out, holding out a hand to slap his brother, though his face remained flushed, almost stunned by the Iyrman’s words. ‘Seriously, man!’
“You wish to refuse?” Mira growled lightly, though kept her tone playful. “Our children will grow up as the strongest of their generation.”
Jurot’s eyes slowly trailed to the side to find his brother smirking towards him, the young Iyrman closing his eyes as he crossed his arms. “You speak such words because you have not met my children. Damrot, my eldest, is meek, but he is intelligent and wise. Monarot, my youngest, is also so wise, and she is well built. My third daughter, Amal, is-,”
“Are you picking a fight?” Adam asked, leaning in towards his brother, his eyes wide.
Jurot held the shadow of a smile on his face, peeking towards his brother, before returning back to his thoughts. “My children shall grow into the greatest of their generation… if they so wish.”
“If they so wish? If you aren’t confident, you should become my mate, and I will guarantee it.”
“If Jurot can’t guarantee it, there’s no way you can,” Adam said, his words cutting like a blade, his eyes sharp, narrowed and focused upon the half dragon.
“You are strong enough too, you may marry my younger sister, who is as wild as I, and she will reach the title of Expert in the next few years,” Mira assured, still grinning proudly, even as the half elf glared towards her.
“I’m already married to the most wonderful wife, so your sister cannot have such a fortune as to marry me,” Adam replied, grinning wide, daring to face against the half dragon within her own village.
“If you do not wish for such fortunes, then I will just pity you, who do not know of the fortunes we offer.”
“I am certain that your offer is great, it is just that, we are in that kind of position,” Adam said, stressing the words carefully, still grinning wildly.
“What kind of position is that?”
“You can certainly smell our magical equipment, you have already seen how powerful my brother is, but even Kitool and I are considered equal to him, then we have Taygak, who is still in her early teens, and yet is unrivalled at her age, and perhaps even those a half decade older, and not to mention our beautiful wives, each of whom hold such great titles.”
“What great titles are these which could compare to the likes of I, Mari, daughter of Manixzur!”
“A Ray of Life’s Rose, and someone titles the Greatest Baker,” Adam replied with the smile of a fool, but the smile that also held far too much arrogance.
“I see, you do not wish to marry me because you have already married a Ray of Life’s Rose,” Mari said, with the understanding she had to retreat, for it was difficult to speak poorly of those of Life’s Rose.
“No,” Jurot said. “My wife is the Greatest Baker.”
Mari blinked, as well as the various other half dragons, who finally saw the smile upon the Iyrman’s face, as though he was truly the luckiest man alive. Adam’s jaw tensed, doing his absolute best not to laugh out loud, wanting to savour the scene of his brother acting all adorably.
“You do not wish to marry me because you married a baker?”
“The Greatest Baker,” Jurot confirmed.
Mari could finally feel it, the rage within her heart, beginning to burst out, her entire face growing darker, the woman reaching for her greatsword, though she let out a long sigh, since he had already defeated her so thoroughly.
‘Ah…’ Mari’s eyes then fell on the fool of a half elf. “You married a Ray?”
Adam burst out into laughter, revealing the fact he was truly his grandfather’s grandson, the half elf grinning wildly. “So I did! This fool managed to marry a Ray! Though my wife is the wisest, this time, I don’t know what happened, but I won’t deny such great luck! Truly, aren’t I the luckiest man alive?”
“If you are a follower of the Lord of Death, the Deathsinger’s Lord of Death, then you must be strong, or perhaps she fell for you because you are acceptable in appearance?”
“Of course, I am rather handsome, I’m rather strong, and I’m quite rich, perhaps it was all of those in combination that managed to seduce my wife…” The half elf’s smile faded slightly, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Although, I suppose she said it was because I have a decent heart…”
Mari blinked once more, doing her best to keep up with his pace, for the half elf may have been a fool, but every so often he slipped into a particular type of behaviour where he went from an arrogant fool to a rather endearing fool.
“You are the Deathsinger’s brother?” the younger sibling, Mariam asked.
“I am.”
“How did that come to pass?”
“I…” Adam wondered how much he should say. “His mother adopted me into the family…”
“His mother?”
Adam flushed red, clearing his throat lightly. “Aunt Sonarot, she accepted me into her family, and then many others of the family. The Mad Dog is my grandfather, but so is Flame Brand.”
“Flame Brand is your grandmother?” Mirac asked, unable to contain his question, staring at the half elf with a keen eye.
“Since I call her grandmother and she calls me grandson, I am her grandson, she is my grandmother.” Adam held Mirac’s gaze, his eyes darkening slightly.
‘The Deathsingers have leashed him?’ Mirac’s thoughts considered the half elf, the arrogance, the way he spoke, and not just that, but the way he seemed to act a fool. It was certain, this half elf was someone who was strong, and not just a little strong, but the kind of strong that beget this kind of company.
“You stated you were strong…”
“Yeah,” the half elf replied.
“How strong are you?”
“I… I cannot speak. If I speak, I will be in big, big trouble,” the half elf replied, heavily accented, shaking his head slightly.
“My brother is considered alongside Lion King Ashmir and Raining Bow Sokikez,” Jurot stated proudly, showing off his brother to the villagers.
Mirac’s eyes darted to Jurot, who spoke such insane words, then towards Ashmir and Sokikez, each of whom remained at ease. If anyone else had spoken the words, they would not have believed them, but Deathsingers did not lie. It was something which was engrained across the lands, from Aldland to Aswadasad, even beyond, and even the dragons knew of their reputation, almost a vow made to the world. Many a dragons have found their lives lost due to such a vow, but many more lived for centuries longer, thanks to the word of a Deathsinger.
“Who was the greatest figure you have defeated thus far?” Mira asked, considering the Deathsinger’s words, for even she was not so foolish to ignore them.
“I’ll probably be in trouble to mention the strongest figure I’ve defeated, so if it is fine with you, I will mention the second strongest,” Adam said, leaning back within his chair, wincing slightly as he remembered that heavy sword. “The second greatest figure I have defeated is Sir James Greatwood of High Garden.”
Mirac could hear the disdain in the half elf’s tone when he mentioned the title of Sir, but he tried to recall what High Garden was. High Garden, the new Order made up of the Orders which were a part of South Aldland, now Floria. Sir James Greatwood.
“You might know him as Kal Yamas Greatwood of the Thousand Hunts,” Adam said casually, before feeling a great oppressive energy press against him, though it instantly disappeared, the half elf ignoring the dragon who had threatened him out of utter shock. He noted the look in Mirac’s eyes, as well as those within the other half dragons. ‘It really does feel good to show off, huh?’
“You defeated Sir Yamas?” Mirac asked, almost certain he had revealed himself to be a Paragon a few years ago.
“I killed him,” the half elf confirmed.
“What?”
2025-10-04 17:00:12 +0000 UTC
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Adam stepped into the village, without revealing any of his secrets, while Dunes glanced aside towards the half elf, equally as surprised as the pair entered together. The village was packed fairly tight with smaller buildings, many which liked to reach towards the sky, with gardens and streams arcing through the village. Many of the buildings were made of stone, with wooden buildings sparsely littered throughout.
The villagefolk went about their day, many having retired from their work for the day, returning back to their homes, many setting up outside of their homes to spend time with their neighbours, others distracted by the rolling carriages. A few of the tribesfolk disappeared into their homes, returning once they had donned bits of armour, from lighter chain, some adorned in scale, and each carried weapons at their sides now, from a simple dagger, others wearing longswords and axes, one even wearing a large maul, just in case.
“You must remain within the centre, or I will consider it as your impoliteness towards me,” Manixzur warned, the lithe serpent, whose scales were faded, almost greying from time, slithered away, towards a nearby tower, keeping them within her sights, especially one figure who stared at her, with a similar expression to her daughters.
‘They really hate foreigners, huh?’ Adam thought, keeping his mouth shut, deciding against bringing any attention to himself.
The Iyrmen, Deathsingers, as they were called by people of old, especially those connected with dragons, settled themselves obviously in front of the group, considering their feelings on the Iyr.
Ashmir, on the other hand, eyed up the old man. He was dark skinned, though with a touch of fairness, his eyes dark, and he looked like a typical Aswadian fellow. He wore a keffiyeh atop his head, white and black, his hair greyed out, almost white, and fell down to his shoulders, his beard even longer, dyed orange like fire. The old man was adorned in a flowery patterned robes, pink with white flowers, a scarf of white with deep purple flowers, while he wore a white set of clothes underneath, pristine. He carried a set of gardening tools within a bag, that had been slung over his shoulder, and though he walked with a slight hunch, Ashmir could feel it.
The old gardened held the Lion King’s gaze, but he bowed his head, reaching up to tug on his keffiyeh gently, relenting to the old fellow’s gaze, shambling his way towards a group, settling himself among them. Ashmir decided against confronting him, since they both held a similar vibe of being old men who wanted to be left alone about most matters.
The outsiders remained mostly by themselves, though were finally approached by a certain figure, a red scaled half dragon, who was quite the handsome fellow, whose scales were a beautiful and bright red, a blade at his side, seemingly adorned in no armour. His eyes were a deep red too, his hair fiery, though straight and combed neatly, his dark skin revealing he was half human from an Aswadian man, while his eyes remained almost stone cold neutral, as though he were an Iyrman.
“Many blessings upon you, travellers, I am Kal Mirac, Administrator of the Valley,” he said, hiding the exhaustion that came with such a title with decades of practise.
“I am Mo Dunes, of Black Mountain,” Dunes said, taking the lead, for it was easier now that they were invited within the village.
“I was informed you are looking for your companions who passed by, a Lady Sara, and a Kal Korin?” Mirac asked.
“That is correct,” Dunes replied, glad to hear they already knew who he was talking about.
“They passed by a short while ago, with a caravan, heading towards the west,” Mirac informed, beginning to converse with Dunes for a short while, while his own thoughts raced. What was it about this group of people that interested his father so?
Dunes’ shoulders felt much lighter now, the young man smiling warmly, considering how to tease his companions once they met. As he did, he noted a trio of other half dragons, two who were adults, the last who was younger, perhaps in their early teens? They were each women, with varying degrees of fire sparkling within their eyes, seemingly a greater fire as they grew younger, and also each adorned in such fine plate armour, save the youngest, who seemed to wear heavy clothing.
“Deathsingers!” the eldest woman said, who looked around Mirac’s age, so anywhere between twenty and eighty, for she was a half dragon too. Her eyes darted around until she found the older Iyrish woman, in her fifties or so, and she grinned wildly like a beast. It was then she noticed the bow, and she frowned, her eyes darting around to find another great warrior within the group.
“Lion King?” the second youngest woman called, who was roughly twenty, perhaps a little younger, her eyes glued to Ashmir. “Hah! It is you, Lion King! I thought you looked familiar.”
“I am,” Ashmir confirmed.
“You’re the Lion King?” the eldest woman asked, tilting her head. “You do give an impressive aura, but I didn’t think you were the Lion King. Still, isn’t that good for me, who will defeat you this day?”
“You are too young,” Ashmir replied simply, daring to ignore the woman within this place, the place that was ruled by her mother, as though she was the village’s Queen, and the young lady, a Princess.
“Who gave you permission to refuse?” the woman reached to the large greatsword upon her back, swinging it down to meet a shield, as Jurot stepped ahead, keeping Ashmir from being annoyed. “Aha? A Deathsinger? You’re not a bad choice either?”
Jurot’s entire body flushed red hot, clashing with the young woman, their magical steel ringing together as they fought. Jurot’s axe forced her backwards, though the young woman’s thighs burned, and she forced herself forward to face the young man.
‘You aren’t so weak, but you picked the wrong opponent!’ The woman’s greatsword threatened to cleave Jurot in half, denting his shield as she brought it down upon his head. “A Rage Dancer, who does not sing for death?”
Jurot narrowed his eyes slightly, but he stepped forward, the pair exchanging clashes, the young woman would have been able to defeat many others who were at Masterhood, but unfortunately for her, Jurot was not just any Rage Dancer, but he who had been taught by the Rot family, so even as the greatsword inflamed, the fire tickling against his skin, Jurot stepped ever forward, seemingly unbothered by the heat.
‘He is fighting well,’ Mirac though, considering the viciousness the pair fought with, though there were few who could handle his sister, for she was not yet thirty and already a Master, something many could only wish for. ‘I will step in if she takes it too far.’
Jurot could feel the way the flames danced along his skin, the Iyrman noticing how much effort it required to step forward against her, she who had struck him violently, in a manner which would have slain a typical Expert, then once more. However, the wall known as Jurot stood tall and strong, even to the point Mirac had to note that the young Iyrman seemed to…
‘Hmm?’ Mirac thought. ‘Is she losing?’
It was Jurot who loomed over the body of the half dragon, who fell to her knees, panting for air, her vision blurry, her heart pounding, the sweat of effort darkening the floor beneath her. She blinked, for it was the first time she had known defeat, for many had stepped back if they seemed to be winning, causing her a great annoyance, but the bitter taste of defeat…
‘So this is what it feels like,’ the young half dragon thought, her heart pounding violently in her chest, her cheeks flushing lightly. Her heart continued to pound, but throbbed in a very different way, the kind that flooded her with warmth. ‘I see!’
“My name is Jurot,” Jurot said, seeing as the woman had calmed down, or at the very least, her passion shifted.
“Jurot?” Mira replied, holding a hint of recognition, for she was certain she had heard the-, “Ah. I shouldn’t have held back.”
“Yes,” Jurot replied, stretching his neck from side to side, as though he could continue fighting for a while longer, even if she didn’t hold back.
“Don’t feel too bad,” said the fool, only to realise he shouldn’t have spoken up. “My brother is a Master.”
“Your brother?” Mira narrowed her eyes towards the half elf, for though it was a surprise Jurot was a Master, it was a greater surprise that the half elf dared to suggest he was the Iyrman’s brother, especially in front of him. Perhaps he was speaking informally, so he could live another day or two. “You are no Iyrman.”
“I am no Iyrman, but Jurot is my brother, and I his,” Adam said, motioning a hand to the Iyrman.
“It is true,” Jurot said. “He uses a shield and axe, as a member of our family.”
Adam flushed lightly, for it was one thing to say he was Jurot’s brother, and another to say he was a member of the Rot family, though he would never refuse such a title.
“You are a Master? How old are you?”
“Twenty four.”
Mira let out a light snort, having originally thought she was strong, but now to hear that this young man was equally as powerful as her, and yet her junior by many years…
Jurot, on the other hand, wondered why she did not use the same techniques as her father, who was certainly a Monk.
2025-10-03 17:00:18 +0000 UTC
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Azra escorted them along their way, even as far as that particular village, wishing to hear their tales, but also to spend more time ruminating on Adam’s offer. She would refuse, she would have to, since her mother hadn’t given her permission, but she wished to fantasise about it at the very least. Her eyes then fell onto Tanika, who was enjoying her walk through the hills. Thankfully, the smallfolk were the kind to only travel about ten to twenty miles a day, while she had walked about twenty to thirty typically while within the caravan.
‘There is quite a large number of individuals within the group, from sand giants to those of Black Mountain, to the typical Aswadian and Aldishmen, and even the likes of the Iyrish. There was definitely something about this group that was out of the norm, and though she had heard so many tales, and assumed it was because a few of the individuals, she cursed her misfortune for being unable to join them. However, she was excited to see how they would deal with the most obvious disadvantage they would soon approach the plains between the hills, and the village set within the valley of the hills.
As the last week of noonval passed by, the Iyr enjoyed it’s seasonal festival. The first morning, the children made their lanterns, holding their wishes.
“Kaka?” Virot asked, having not yet started to paint her lantern, the girl adorned in simple clothing at the moment.
“She has not returned yet,” Vonda replied, reaching down to brush her daughter’s cheek tenderly, the girl leaning into her hand for a moment.
“Papa?” Virot asked.
“He has not returned either.”
Virot leaned away to grab a brush and looked around, spotting the green. She painted her lantern with great focus, and once she was done, she found the yellow, but before she could add the colour, her mother grabbed her brush.
“We should use our hands for the eyes,” Vonda said, hugging the girl, who was covered in paint, and once they finished painting their lanterns, they all washed up and changed.
Virot wore a blue sleeveless dress, with a frilly skirt which looked like ripples in a pond. Atop her head was once a long hat, but she had already thrown it off with defiance, while charging up to her eldest sister so she could lead the girl through the festival. The other children also wore similar outfits, though Konarot picked up the hat and shook it lightly before placing it on Virot’s head.
“No!” Virot cried aloud, reaching up to her hat, but Konarot placed her hands on the girl’s hat. The pair glared between one another, and Virot relented, holding her sisters’ hands as her brother held Damrot’s hand and they all waddled off to explore the festival.
Larot let out a soft sigh, staring out to the world around him as the Iyr enjoyed its festivals, in the middle of changing them due to the significance of the Reavers, but they decided to keep it fairly typical this year. His eyes darted to the side, towards Lucy and Mara, who had also decided to take the week off in order to watch over the children, though the anxiety across their expressions revealed who they wished to spoil.
Even as the days passed, Virot continued to ask for her sister and brother, but they did not materialise. Tears slipped down the girl’s cheeks freely, but her mother soothed her, the girl sucking her thumb as she cuddled up to her mother’s bosom.
The old one armed Iyrman let out a low groan, almost a growl, as he thought of the aching heart of his greatdaughter. It wasn’t just Jirot and Jarot who were missing, but Mulrot and Gangak, who were certainly with the children, watching over them, but it also meant there was a void within the Iyr for these children who adored not just their siblings, but their nanos too.
‘How long will you keep my previous greatchildren, Elder Story?’ Jarot thought, though what could he do, when Elder Story was involved, it was a grave matter indeed. Since they hadn’t heard bad news, it meant it was good news, so he had to resolve his aching heart.
“Virot, come to me,” Jarot called, holding out a hand.
The girl glanced his way, looking at him all forlorn, the girl climbing off her mother and then rushed up to her greatfather, who lifted her up with ease. The girl returned to sucking her thumb and rested her head against his chest, the young girl’s eyes closing.
Jarot kissed her temple, for the girl did not bully her, so it was a gravely serious matter indeed. “Do not worry, they will return soon, safely, and you will cause much trouble, yes?”
The girl remained silently, cuddling with the old man, allowing him to hold her close to his chest. Indeed, what a terrible time it was for the little girl, who was too sad to even cause trouble.
“Mahmahmahmahmah,” Xarot called, crawling to his mother on all fours, the boy staring up at her with a bright smile, trying to climb up, but his mother lifted him up and held the boy so tightly.
“Xarot, are you enjoying the festival?” Vonda asked, smiling warmly down towards the boy, who squealed with delight, before he twitched, noting the appearance of a familiar form, as the bald old man reached out a finger and poked his nose.
“You are so swift now, even I am struggling to keep up,” Malfev joked, as the boy hid his head into his mother’s neck shyly. “Oh ho ho, are you hiding from me, my Xarot?”
“Eeeeeh,” the boy replied, cuddling up to his mother’s neck.
“What of you, Monarot, will you…” The old man saw how she was already fast asleep, snoozing against her mother. He smiled, brushing through his beard lightly, before his eyes darted between the children, noting the hopeful look of the triplets. The old man relented, picking them up and carrying them away at high speeds.
Pam watched the old man leap away, moving with such ease, and considering her own husband, who was quite the prodigy, she wondered if she should learn to fight.
‘Do not worry, kako, I will protect you, so stay comfortable,’ the little green one said, patting her knee gently.
Even as the last day of the festival passed, the twins did not return, and while the triplets wished for their father to return, Virot sniffled as she called out for her sister and brother, sending away her lantern, only quietening once Vonda had picked her up, while passing Xarot to his greatfather, who held the boy close, the pair staring into one another’s eyes, saying nothing as they both remained silence, waiting to see who would pull away.
It was during early duskval when it was finally before them, the village that was set within the valley of the hills.
‘Ah,’ Adam thought, noting the red dragon, more like a red serpent, that darted from tower to tower, hiding behind it as she glared at the group, before finally descending behind the village walls, unable to be seen by the group. She was paler than typical dragons, Adam gathered, but she had been rather quick to move, and he barely saw her from how far away she was.
“It is ill fortune we will meet with Lady Manixzur, there is a high likelihood she will turn us away, but thankfully you are here,” Dunes said.
“Me?”
“For once, even though you may easily provoke her, you will also interest her, since you are you,” Dunes said, with a complicated expression on his face, hoping the half elf wouldn’t go too far. “Lady Manixzur enjoys hearing interesting ideas and discussing such things, even if they are absurd.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You're the only one I know who has such audacious ideas.”
“I'm annoyed by how right you are.”
“It is a compliment,” Dunes said.
Adam narrowed his eyes, causing the Priest to smirk lightly, winking at him, before they continued up to the hill fort village, where a dozen guards waited for them upon the walls, and certainly, many dozens more out of sight. Each held crossbows, save for four, who seemed to lead, the four glaring down at the group, while one stepped forward, holding an arrow that was tipped with black.
“Deathsingers, what brings you to our village?” the leader asked, a young woman who also eyed up those from Black Mountain, their suspicions high.
“We wish to pass,” Tanagek replied simply. “We are looking for two of those from Black Mountain who passed by previously.”
As they spoke, Manixzur’s throat rumbled, not appreciating the fact that there were so many of the Deathsingers, those known for their want of slaying dragons, as well as those from Black Mountain, who she did not like upon her land.
An old man, adorned in a flowery patterned robes, as well as a short scarf that hung over his shoulders stepped up beside the dragon, noting how the dragon remained tense.
“Lady, what is the issue?” the old man asked, who was certainly just a gardener, so the villagers said.
“The Deathsingers, they-,” she began, only to notice the old man tense up slightly, reaching up to his beard.
“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”
2025-10-02 17:00:14 +0000 UTC
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As the carriages slipped out of the village, taking the large number of guests, the Wise stared out towards them, watching as they shrunk while heading towards the horizon. With the sun at his back, the rays of warmth tickling his fur, he contemplated what he had heard the previous evening.
‘The world is so large,’ the Wise thought.
The carriages continued along their way, following the straight road ahead, handing out the scarves and spears to each village, each settled atop the hills, their hillfarms and hillgoats welcoming the group, who did their best to pay for the various guides along their way. The various lionfolk who joined them on their adventure enjoyed the free coin they provided, even if they were to donate most of it to the village.
“This is as far as I can guide you,” the lionfolk said, eyeing up an imaginary boundary. “I wish you many fortunes, friends.”
“You as well,” Dunes replied, clasping a paw within his hand. “May Lady Arya bless you.”
“You as well, Black Sword,” the lionfolk said, before waving at the group as they continued towards the next village.
The drakken villagers eyed up the group, each adorned in fine scales armour, their weapons forged of steel, simple, but well made, and each wore jewellery that made even Saibs envious.
“A Mo of Black Mountain,” one of the drakken villagers greeted, reaching out a hand to shake Dunes’. “How do you fare today?”
“Well,” Dunes admitted, before informing the villager why they were here.
“I recall they passed by not long ago, two of yours, one a devilkin, another a human,” the drakken confirmed. “Shukhur, was your journey safe?”
“It was, for…” Dunes motioned towards the Iyrman driving the carriage, Jurot bowing his head towards the drakken.
“I see!” The drakken then noted Dunes’ look, who motioned a head to the rest of the carriages, and after the drakken checked the carriages, noting the baby, the child, and then the teen, his smile faded slightly, his eyes holding Dunes’ gaze.
“There is no need to worry,” Jurot assured, with Dunes translating for him, causing the drakken to relax slightly, though he wasn’t sure if he could be so relaxed when there were so many Iyrmen travelling this way. “Are you heading… eastward?”
“Yes.”
The drakken let out a hum of understanding, since they would soon pass through to meet Manixzur. “Many blessings to you, Mo.”
“Thank you.”
The process was similar here too, the Iyrmen handing out the spears in the scarves, and the drakken sparred with the group too. Many spoke between themselves in their tongue, the tongue of the dragons, which very few of the group understood.
“Lord…” The Chief knelt before Bael respectfully. “May we ask for the purpose of your visit.”
“I am here accompanying the group, and escorting the girl,” Bael said, pointing a finger.
The Chief thought of Taygak, but as he noted where the finger was pointing, he blinked. ‘A merman?’
Kizwolima snoozed lightly to one side, not realising there were many staring at her. Bael peeked out towards the nearby drakken, many of whom remained to one side, understanding the meaning behind the colour of his scales. Even if he may have been a half dragon, he was half an azure dragon, and while the drakken treated all half dragons well, it was another thing for the kind who did not roam this land.
So what did he, of all figures, have to do with a merman?
‘Poor girl,’ the drakken thought, assuming Bael had slaughtered her entire family.
“Your spear is sharp,” the drakken woman admitted. “What is your name?”
“Yasha,” the Aswadian woman replied.
“Farah,” the drakken woman replied. “Are you already an Expert?”
“I am.”
“Your grandfather, you said he is a Mulazim.”
“He was, he is mostly retired,” Yasha admitted.
“Are you a guard for the group?” Farah asked, resting her spear against the nearby cabin, before nodding her head to a young drakken, who rushed off to bring them snacks, as an older drakken brought a pair of water basins.
“No, in this group, they don’t need a guard,” the young woman admitted. “I am mentoring a fellow.”
“Are you teaching him the spear?”
“Yes.”
Farah noted the rest of the figures within the group, including the large number of Iyrmen, understanding why Yasha wouldn’t be required as a guard. “I’m sure you have many stories to tell of your adventure thus far!”
Yasha smiled awkwardly, certain she couldn’t speak most of the tales. What could she say about the group? She began to explain how she became a member of the group, and how she had almost come blows with the Wild Cobra Sword. It was then she couldn’t help herself.
The Chief listened intently to Farah’s words, his eyes then falling upon the half elf, who held a giant toddler against himself, the girl fast asleep, while he remained completely relaxed, almost falling into a slumber himself. As he stepped towards the pair, Farah stopped him for a moment.
‘What?’
The Chief made the wise decision of leaving the half elf be, for though there were many tales they wished to hear, there were some which were far too troublesome. Unfortunately for him, he and Adam were very similar in one way, and that way was…
“I heard you are strong,” the drakken woman said, a wild grin upon her lips, a curved blade at her side, the woman adorned in a scale breastplate over chain, a long cloak falling down her shoulders.
“Who lied to you?” Adam replied, sitting up as he rubbed his eye. ‘Whoa. I feel so refreshed. I didn’t even take a nap, but I’m feeling so loose and limber.’
“Is there a need to pretend?” the woman asked, raising her brow. “My name is Azra, and among my peers, I am the strongest. I heard you are strong too, at the least, you seem like you are.”
“I would like to fight, but right now, my little Amal is currently in the middle of napping.”
“Amal? The blueskin girl?”
Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, his lips twitching into a smile. “My beautiful daughter, who has such pretty skin.”
‘Ah, so he’s one of those,’ Azra thought, letting out a huff, before her eyes darted to the nearby Iyrman, who had been listening intently. She beckoned him with a finger, and Jurot, being his grandfather’s grandson, beat the young woman lightly, letting out a small sigh of satisfaction, since she wasn’t that weak.
“Adam, will you translate?” Jurot asked, having returned from beating her up.
“Sure.”
“Tell her that I acknowledge she is strong,” Jurot said.
“My brother says he acknowledges that you are strong,” Adam translated, while the woman sat up, flexing her muscles to regain her strength.
“What kind of monster is he?” Azra replied.
Jurot only nodded his head at her words, before leaning in to whisper into Adam’s ear. “Her talent matches John’s.”
Adam raised his brows, his eyes darting to the drakken woman. “My brother keeps singing your praises. He says you are as talented as John, meaning I should probably ask you to join our business.”
“Your business?” Azra asked, listening to Adam’s explanation. “I don’t like to work for others, but if you have a spare magical weapon, I will consider it.”
“If it’s a magical weapon, that is a small price to pay,” Adam said.
“If you go, I’ll beat you,” a woman said in their tongue, glaring at Azra. She was a slightly older drakken woman, slightly thicker built, but Jurot could see the connection between the pair with ease.
“If my mother says I cannot go, then what can I do?”
“What a shame, but I can’t dare to fight against a mother for her child,” Adam joked. “Although, if you’re ever near the Iyr, swing by and we’ll have a chat, if nothing else, we’ll hand over a few silver for a conversation.”
“My word is worth more than a few silver.”
“I meant a few…” Adam thought, trying to do the maths in his head. “At least a thousand silver.”
“My word is worth at least that much!” The woman laughed, almost howling.
“Do you have any intentions of stepping out and becoming a great warrior or anything like that?”
“I may, in the near future, though with the Reavers, I am tasked with defending the village,” Azra admitted, letting out an awkward sigh, since she had almost been picked to join the Territory Guard. She had caused a great mess in order to confirm whether or not her father had pulled some strings to keep her away from it, but hearing that it was seemingly all due to the lack of fortune, she let it slide.
“If you do, come by and we’ll hand over a magical weapon to you for a period of ten years, and then we’ll ask you to return it,” Adam said.
“You would rent me a magical weapon?” Azra asked.
“I would like you to wield a magical blade of our making, advertise our business, and then return the sword with all the stories it holds so that I can gift my beautiful little daughter the sword,” Adam said, leaning down to make kiss noises on top of the girl’s head. “Isn’t that right, my beautiful little… big, Amal.”
‘What?’ The Chief’s eyes replied, glaring at his daughter, not liking the way she was looking at him.
“Did you know she’s only a year old?” Adam asked.
“What?” the father and daughter both almost exclaimed.
2025-10-01 17:00:20 +0000 UTC
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Hello there!
Last month I was quite sick and though I’m much better I’m still feeling the after effects of it. Thankfully I’ve been working on my health for a while so I’m not quite so lethargic as I usually am.
I am now chapters behind on Beyond Chaos, and I’m sorry about that, but I was writing so much of Unfortunate Father because I wanted to finish the first draft, which I finally managed to do! I will be taking a break from it for a week or so in order to remake the map and figure a few aspects of lore, so when you see the edited version, it may be quite different in some ways, though the rolls and soul of the story should remain the same.
I am also working on another project and a potential idea of running a TTRPG game for higher tier patrons. If you’re interested, please let me know, and how much you’d be willing to pay for one, two, three, or four sessions monthly through Patreon?
I was planning on running a game and then writing up a campaign diary for other patrons to read so if you want to influence a story, even as far as playing in it, this would be the perfect opportunity. I probably wouldn’t use 5E, I’d use a different system, the system I’m using for my third project which is…
2025-10-01 16:55:01 +0000 UTC
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The carriages rolled out of the town, leaving behind a whirlwind of rumours. The young lady who had joined them, wrapped in her loose robes, and scarf which hid away her short hair, carried a spear at her side, one that she did not know how to use, but it was a fine spear, the tip gleaming with the warmth of firesteel, and at her side she carried a firesteel dagger.
Lani sat beside her, feeling equally as alarmed, even though she was more used to this kind of life. Thankfully they weren’t sitting in the same carriage as that monster, for she would be unable to calm her heart.
“Adam, remember…”
“I know, I know, we’re heading to Tribesfolk territory, so don’t start any trouble,” Adam replied, turning his head to look out of the window. His thoughts fell to something, but his head snapped to the side as he heard the sound of Amal waking up. “Oh? Did you enjoy your little nap, Amal?”
The girl rubbed her eye with the back of her hand, while Adam brushed her face with a damp cloth, before tickling her nose. The girl glared at him for a moment, before shyly withdrawing towards Anka’s bosom, though her eyes fell back to the half elf for a moment, who smiled so warmly, causing her to hide her head again.
‘Amal, you’re still so shy, huh?’ Adam’s heart eased, for as long as Amal and Kizwolima were with them, he would allow nothing to trouble them. Everyone else would protect Taygak, and so would he, of course, but he was most responsible for the pair.
“They are a prideful people, those who live within the mountains, and continue along to the hills, following River Ghamid,” Dunes said, recalling when he was a child and had learnt of the words.
“Are we going to get into trouble?” Adam asked. “Hold on, I mean, you know, if we arrive and even if I don’t cause trouble, will they trouble us?”
“It is doubtful.”
“That’s good at least,” Adam said, leaning back as he relaxed, since he had already berated himself all morning. He would meditate every morning after he woke up, at noon, and then before he went to sleep, which consisted of calming his mind, but also berating himself constantly for being such a fool. His eyes fell to the mountain around them, the dark stone fading away into the darkness of his thoughts. ‘Seriously, why did you marry a guy like me?’
Dunes noted how seriously the half elf was taking this, so he decided to keep his mouth shut, allowing the half elf to slip into his thoughts. ‘I believe in you, Adam.’
Amal groaned, reaching out for the half elf, who instantly melted into a fool, holding the girl and allowing her to rest against his chest, since no one showed her as much affection at the half elf.
Jurot drove the carriage, allowing the half elf to think in peace. As he relaxed at the front, his eyes darted to the side, towards a wyvern, which flew all around them. As he glared at it, so did the others who drove the other carriages, and when it saw the sand giant, who was almost as large as the carriage, it turned its attention elsewhere.
“You’re a funny guy, eh, Dunes?” Adam asked as he stepped out of the carriage so the village guards could screen them.
“How do you mean?” Dunes replied, with the kind of smile that said he knew what Adam was talking about.
The large number of lionfolk glared at the group, noting the appearance of all the Iyrmen, but also the members of Black Mountain. The villages itself was set upon the mountains, though was more like a fortress than a village. Each of the lionfolk were less humanoid compared to the drakken, who were like humans with draconic features, while these lionfolk were like lions who could stand and speak, and they all wore about wore chain as though it were fashionable.
Adam spotted many who wore turbans and scarves, but from what Adam gathered, the women wore turbans, and the men wore scarves, for none of the women had hair, while the men let their hair fall down across their shoulders, their manes each large and wild.
‘I guess that makes sense…’
A particular figure, a large lionman, adorned in scale armour, wielding a large spear approached, eyeing up the group with a careful eye, his eyes falling upon the old Aswadian men, taking one into his sights, who smiled and bowed his head respectfully, while the other glared at him, but nodded his head.
‘…’
“Many Iyrmen,” the lionman accused. “Many people...”
Adam blinked, having all but forgotten that he was the one who was doing the talking. ‘Hold on? Isn’t something wrong here?
“What brings you here today?”
“Uh, hello,” Adam replied, having forgotten he was the one who was meant to do the talking. “We are here to pass through, to find a pair of our companions who had passed by some time ago.”
“There are many guests who pass by our lands, respectfully,” the Wise said, before his eyes darted to the Iyrman who stood beside, whose tattoos were a blue circle followed by blue diamonds. “A son of Rot has come.”
Jurot heard his family name and bowed his head, allowing the Wise to accept the spear from his hands, the Wise’s eyes falling upon the rest of the Iyrmen, noting quite a few tattoos, and then his eyes fell to the Gaks. For a long moment he glared towards them, but he bowed his head respectfully.
“You are welcome to stay for the night, and your safety is guaranteed between our walls,” the Wise said, motioning a paw for them to enter, for if so many Iyrmen had come, they would cause no trouble.
Well, no troublesome trouble, for already he could sense the bloodlust of those all around him, each wishing to spar with the Iyrmen. What could he do when the young bloods were all riled up? What the Wise, nor the lionfolk expected was just how strong these Iyrmen were, for as they found warriors who were roughly the Iyrmen’s peers through their age, the Iyrmen were anywhere between a touch stronger, to much stronger. Laygak was the only figure they had managed to defeat, and that was because he stepped back after a few blows, while everyone else fought until they drew blood.
“Good job, Taygak,” Adam called, holding up a hand, the teen high fiving him, the half elf smiling. The spars had changed the atmosphere, for though they had been invited with some suspicion, the spars had relaxed the lionfolk, who eagerly spoke with the Iyrmen as best as they could, with a few of the lionfolk who could speak Aldish translating and speaking on behalf of both people, as they spoke Aswadian, though also growled in their own tongue too.
“Masters?” the Wise mused, reaching up to brush his large mane. ‘What kind of monsters are the Iyr breeding this time?’ However, he considered how many figures had come to him this day, and how many of them were the grandchildren of legends from the previous era, back when he was but a cub. He had no idea he would be hearing those names after so long. His eyes then fell to the fellows of Black Mountain, but he decided to leave them be, since they wished to be left alone. Of course, there was the one from Black Lion…
‘Why’s he looking at me like that?’ Adam thought, hoping the Wise hadn’t figured out Adam was monstrously strong too. ‘Even if I should farm a little XP…’
“Ibnahm,” the Wise called, causing Ashmir’s eyes to fall upon him. Even sitting down as they were, the Wise could feel the overwhelming gap between the pair of them. Even if he was one of the strongest warriors of the village, he was nowhere near close to the Peak like Ashmir. “I heard you retired a few years ago.”
“I did,” Ashmir replied.
“In the Iyr?”
“In the Iyr.”
“How is it?”
“It is exactly as you imagine,” Ashmir replied simply.
‘If it terrifies even the likes of you…’ The Wise decided against speaking further of the Iyr, and considering the Iyrmen before him, he thought it was best to keep his heart at ease. However, the one thing he didn’t understand was…
“Me?” Adam asked, surprised the Wise would just speak to him out of the blue. “My name is Adam Fate, Executive of the United Kindom.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from the Iyr?” Adam replied, slightly confused.
“Your tattoo is reminiscent of the Iyr, but it is not of the Iyr.”
“Ah, well, excuse me. My home is the Iyr, but I come from a distant land, one that no longer exists.”
The Wise assumed the young half elf was from another Realm, nodding his head. ‘The Iyr does not take slaves, so…’ “Are you close with the Iyrmen?”
“Ah, something like that. I’m actually Jurot’s brother.”
“You are the Iyrman’s brother?” the Wise asked.
“That’s right.”
“If I speak with him, will he say such?”
“Yes.”
“Jurot,” the Wise called in the Aldish tongue. “Is this half elf your brother?”
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
The Wise had originally thought he would need to slaughter the half elf, or at least watch the Iyrmen slaughter him for daring to speak such words. “How did this become so?”
While the Wise heard their tale, the other lionfolk were currently being astonished by something even more ridiculous.
“She is only a year old?” one asked, eyes darting towards his companion.
“What are the Iyrmen feeding her?” the woman mused, her eyes wide.
2025-09-30 11:00:19 +0000 UTC
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The room felt so much colder, the young half elf sitting in the middle of his bed, cross legged, staring out at the wall ahead of him, but seeing nothing in particular. He remained uncertain. Uncertain of what to say. Uncertain of what to do. Uncertain of even what to think.
‘I threatened him, but should I do more?’ Adam thought, closing his eyes shut as the darkness enveloped his mind, washing away his thoughts. Yet, the swirling Chaos returned. ‘I should do more, but who am I to say anything? I’ve killed so many people, it’s not like I can talk. He at the very least didn’t kill her for pleasure or anything like that, it was to make her stronger, and didn’t he bring her back? Still, I can’t let him go around killing people. We are our own people, masters of our own Fate…’
Adam let out a long sigh, for how could he be so audacious to think the weak could be masters of their own Fate? ‘When you’re weak, you can’t even choose when you die, huh?’
The half elf hoped the young woman could use whatever it was that Bael had gifted her to its full effect, and to make a name for herself to stand out against all the rest, to the point even the royal family needed to consider her feelings.
‘Although, when she’s on the rise, she might get some unwanted attention…’ Adam considered what he could do for the woman to help her out. ‘I should carry way more magical weapons for times like this.’
Meanwhile, Bael enjoyed his pink tea, sipping it slowly. The sweetness danced against his tongue and warmed the chill within his bones, the same chill that would remain for at least a season. He looked down at his hands, so rough from all the training, and yet so much softer than those who had trained for a tenth of the time as him. The same rough hands also could bring death to so many, and as he grew older, as he grew stronger, it would become even easier for him to kill.
‘…’
‘I don’t particularly care if you kill,’ his great grandfather admitted, holding the little Bael within an arm as he walked back. ‘Except, if you’re going to kill, at least kill the right people.’
‘I’ll kill anyone I want because if I want to kill them then they’re the right people to kill!’
The old man laughed wildly, the kind of laughter Bael inherited, but as the old man’s laughter disappeared into a chuckle, he pinched the boy’s cheek. ‘Even if you are a fool, you are different to a beast.’
‘I’m no beast, I’m a hero!’
‘If you’re a beast, you can’t be a hero,’ the old man said, pinching his cheek again. ‘At least don’t bring me any shame. Anyone can kill a thousand ants, so don’t grow drunk on that.’
As Bael recalled his memories, he thought about how much time he had spent with his great grandfather. The old man who had raised him more than his own father. Bael narrowed his eyes.
‘I do not have the luxury of worrying over a woman who is alive and will succeed in this Realm thanks to my assistance,’ Bael thought, letting out another sigh, his annoyance slipping out of his lips with it.
Kizwolima pouted, holding onto the cup of pink tea, the girl’s eyes darting towards Bael, before glancing to another side. She had barely touched the fruit before her, something which Bael had yet to see.
“Do not worry, it is fine,” Bael said, crossing his arms as he leaned back.
“Okay.”
‘I should gift the daggers once I am done with them…’ Bael thought, peeking down towards Kizwolima who continued to pout, before he reached down to reveal one of the daggers to her, the girl’s eyes peeking at the metal. “You may look at the dagger for now.”
“Okay!”
Tanika wondered if she would receive such training but realised it probably wasn’t her Fate. She was a sand giant, with more connection to fire and earth than the storm. However, even if Bael was a dragon, how was he able to do something like that? ‘Just what kind of pedigree do you have?’
John stared down at his tea cup, considering what he had heard. His eyes fell to Bael, who had randomly killed a woman, apparently, but the way he heard the Iyrmen speak of it, it seemed as though it was a good thing? ‘Just what kind of world have I stepped into?’
“If you wish to reach such a height, you must work harder,” said a voice, the young Iyrman staring down at the young father.
John considered her eyes and stood, accepting the invitation to spar with her, especially since it wasn’t everyday he got to spar with the grandchild of a legend.
Except, it was almost an everyday thing for him now…
‘What kind of power will she awaken?’ Uwajin thought, sparring with Yasha, daring to only pay half a mind to the battle, but then again, that was just how overwhelmingly powerful she was compared to the Aswadian who was roughly her age.
‘Lord Noor, what have I gotten myself into?’ Maharan thought, while the Iyrmen were abuzz with apparently witnessing, or being beside something that was spoken only in legends.
“It seems there is another within Aswadasad who we will need to keep an eye on,” Chosen said, the young man leaned back within his chair, half laying down into it.
“We may be witnessing the birth of a new era,” Tanagek agreed, feeling the gentle throbbing within his heart.
Zabir decided against thinking too much about what had happened, he was too old, too weak, too much of a commoner to be thinking about anything that involved such majesties. He stared up at the darkening sky, praying that all would be well, and their journey would remain safe, even if he knew it would not be uneventful.
Under the same sky, another stared up at the darkening sky, the same sky, and yet they were so far away from one another. The figure was an older man, with a handsomeness that was expected of him, for he held such a title, with shorter white hair, cut weekly, and a small beard, trimmed neatly at the same time. He stood surrounded by the company of the most beautiful flowers, and considering what he was, it was not those kind of flowers, but the kind that cleared the air, and filled it with such a beautiful smell, and a beautiful sight.
Near him, an old man sat, just a simple old man, who certainly was not a legend that time had forgotten long ago. He wore simple clothing and carried a staff, a simple staff, and certainly not a legendary artefcat. He wore a bracelet of bronze balls, certainly not the kind which held great magics.
“Mother’s Mercy, you seem to be deep in thought,” the figure said, hearing the young man’s heartbeat, so gentle, so slow, for he was already so old, within his seventh decade, and if he had not taken the title of King, he would have lasted at least to a century, but what could he do now that he had taken upon such a heavy responsibility.
“I received a letter this morning,” the King said, to a figure who had arrived silently, and no one would know had come to greet him.
“Do you wish to speak of it?”
King Merryweather remained staring at the sky, noting the stars which had already begun to appear. He stared at the stars, the same stars she would also stare at, though that had been almost a lifetime ago. He thought of the woman, who he had adored more than any other.
“It contained, one may describe it as knowledge, another a request, another a warning,” King Merryweather admitted, unsure of how to consider it.
“What is the warning?”
“I must consider the matter of the Reavers seriously, to the point I must forgive one who should not be forgiven, perhaps.
“Mother’s Mercy, such is a great burden you hold,” the figure said, reaching down to his rosemary beads, beginning to pray over them. After completing a round, he glanced towards the old man once more, though his eyes remained firmly shut. “What are your thoughts?”
King Merryweather did not respond for quite a while, but for a figure who had lived for so long, what was a few minutes in the span of eternity?
“Considering this knowledge, request, warning, she has requested a reward,” the King admitted, staring up at the sky. “I do not know if it is appropriate to call it such.”
“To consider the Reavers tomorrow, you must consider Floria today, to consider Floria today, you must consider the Reavers today, to consider the Reavers today, you must consider Floria tomorrow,” the figure replied.
The King remained silent for a long while. “Are your words devoid of meaning?”
“Can words be devoid of meaning?”
“Yes.”
The figure looked up towards the sky, his eyes still closed, praying over his beads. “Mother’s Mercy.”
The words emanated a warmth out towards the King, who felt the magic coat him, soothing his exhausted heart. ‘I should pray to the Mother.’
2025-09-29 17:00:14 +0000 UTC
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“You may revive her,” Bael said to a baffled Mork, whose head snapped between Bael and Adam.
Mork’s heart thundered within his chest, a chill running through his body at how easily Bael, without batting an eye, killed a woman out of the blue. Mork was unsure if he should revive the young woman, certain the laws of Aswadasad were similar to Aldland in that regard, and he was thankful he didn’t have to make the choice as the half elf dropped to a knee, clutching a diamond in hand.
The Mulazim burst onto the scene, his blade already out, finding a fellow looming over his daughter, the dust of a gem scattering onto the blanket, turning into light as his daughter gasped, her eyes upon the half elf’s face, fear set deep into her eyes. Her heart froze in place, aching deeply, before it began once more, her breath coming to her hard, escaping her lungs easily.
“You!” The Mulazim snarled through gritted teeth, though Bael all but ignored him, his eyes focused on the kneeling Priest.
“She will need to meditate for a season,” Bael said, considering how he didn’t burn his Spark. He would have done so to assist her, but unfortunately he had duties to protect the children. “Once the energies settles within her, it is up to her whether she wishes to reach greater heights.”
Adam remained silent for a long while, his eyes pulsing as he glared at the half dragon. He slowly stood, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles cracked, before he forced his body to relax. “What did you do?”
“I awoke her latent abilities,” Bael replied simply.
“By killing her?”
“I empowered the latent lightning within her, with the influx of my lightning, she was unable to cling to life,” Bael said, motioning a hand towards the Priest, as if to say it was fine.
“Bael, you must think I’m an idiot, huh?” Adam remained as calm as he could, but the fury flared through his body. If Bael hadn’t risked his life in the previous year, the half elf would have already tried to cut him down.
“Over the generations, the latent abilities within her family dampened,” Bael explained calmly. “For the next ten generations, her family will know few equal.”
“Did you need to kill her?”
“There was a chance to survive, and she almost resisted it,” Bael admitted, for she had truly just slipped into death right at the end, an impressive feat.
“You can’t go around killing people, Bael,” Adam warned, his eyes still holding the half dragon’s gaze.
“I did not intend her to remain dead,” Bael said, motioning to Mork once more, who would have brought her back.
“Seriously!” Adam reached up to press his knuckles against his pounding forehead. “Why didn’t you ask me?”
“She wouldn’t have felt comfortable with a Priest of Death.”
Even Adam couldn’t refuse the fact it was a fair point, the half elf still annoyed, his mind racing. ‘Seriously, man…’
“Out of my way at once!” The Mulazim clenched at his blade which shook violently within his hand, the fury in his eyes burning brightly, ready to kill.
“Young lady, what is your name?” Bael all but ignored the Mulazim, who did not act just yet, his body blocked by the pair of Priests ahead, and the Iyrmen beside him, while the clattering of footsteps revealed the small army of guards.
“Zumra.”
“You must meditate for a season, especially all throughout the next season,” Bael informed the woman, as though he hadn’t just killed her. “If you must retire from your word, you should do so, for an opportunity like this will not come again.”
“You can’t expect someone to just retire from their job,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes towards Bael, still considering how heavy he should beat the half dragon.
Bael snorted lightly, reaching into his robes, before holding out a gem worth a hundred gold to the young woman. “That should assist you.”
‘Seriously!’ The half elf’s mind remained focused on how much he should beat the half dragon.
The young woman stared at the gem, still unsure of what had happened, or what was happening. However, she could feel something deep within her, a comforting heat, the kind that fought off the lightning which had cracked her skin, and deep within her was an even greater heat and warmth, a storm within her body.
“Can you feel it?” Bael asked.
“Yes…”
“At least you have some talent,” Bael said, like a noble, causing the half elf to take a half step forward. “You should aim to surpass the Radiant Blade, otherwise I will take offence.”
Zumra stared up at his bored and annoyed face, noticing his colour had changed too. Bael had grown far paler, and his brow was slick with the tiniest layer of sweat, his breath coming to him more awkwardly. It wouldn’t have been noticed by those who were weaker than Experts, but for the warriors around, they could spot how laboured the half dragon acted.
‘Surpass the…’ Zumra was unsure about what the half dragon was talking about, for who could surpass the likes of the Radiant Blade, but she forced herself onto her feet, wrapping the blanket around her. “Thank you, Lord Bael.”
“At least call me Hero Bael.”
“As you say, Hero Bael,” Zumra said, bowing her head, pulling down her scarf to hide her hair, though it had been torn apart. Thankfully Mork offered her a scarf he carried with him, allowing the woman to tie it over her head.
The Mulazim remained frozen still, but his daughter reached for his hand, the older man still ready to kill, but he understood the difference between himself and the half dragon. He grit his teeth, unable to contain the rage within his heart, but what could he do?
As Bael barged past them, he spotted the dozens of guards, each with their blades out. “At least you mortals have courage…”
‘He is definitely a dragon!’ the guards thought, certain they would die if they dared to attack.
“I apologise, Mulazim,” Adam said, reaching up to his forehead. “I didn’t expect him to go so far.”
“Do you think it is so easy to kill my daughter and leave?” The Mulazim clutched his blade tighter, his muscles straining so tightly in hand, he would be unable to wield a blade properly for at least the next week.
“I’m not the kind of guy who will stop you if you want to die, but at the same time…” Adam sighed, having at least the shame to shut his mouth. “Bael, how strong will she become?”
“Not as strong as either of us, but she will be able to grow as powerful as the Radiant Blade if she trains hard.” Bael noted the father was still glaring at him, ready to give up his life. “If she is able to reach the rank of Grandmaster, I will gift her a magical blade.”
“Mulazim, may we speak?” called a voice, the Mo of Black Mountain smiling awkwardly. ‘How is it that someone else is more troublesome than even you, Adam?’
“Father, I am well,” Zumra said, with the understanding that whoever this half dragon was, he was someone they couldn’t touch.
“You should take her to meditate,” Bael said, letting out another sigh, before walking past the guards who dared not make a move without their Mulazim’s word. Just like that, the shadow known as Bael disappeared, heading to the courtyard to watch over Kizwolima once more. ‘I will need to rest for some time.’
Dunes remained with the Mulazim, speaking with him about what had happened, and hoping to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, Adam considered beating Bael so hard that evening turned to morning, but at the same time, although he had killed the woman, it was true enough he intended to bring her back.
“Is dying so easy?” Adam asked, glaring down at Bael.
“It was easy for you,” Bael replied. “If I offered the same to any warrior, they would have accepted even if I did not intend to return them to life.”
“You should have informed her of everything first, so she could make a proper choice,” Adam said.
“Sometimes, it is not for her to choose,” Bael replied simply, before noting the way the half elf tensed up once more, the pair glaring between one another for a long moment.
“If you do that again, don’t blame me for being rude,” Adam warned, turning on his heel and storming off in a rage. Certainly, Bael had at least earned enough that Adam could think twice about cutting an arm off, even after speaking so much like a noble.
“Mister Bael, are you okay?” Kizwolima asked, looking out towards the half elf. “Are you fighting?”
“We had a disagreement,” Bael replied simply, reaching over to rub her head gently.
Kizwolima could feel how cold the half dragon’s hand has become, the girl smiling, enjoying the cool temperature.
‘I will not be able to… encourage the sword for some time,’ Bael thought.
2025-09-28 17:00:11 +0000 UTC
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CAUTION:
This is a very rough draft of the first third or so of the novel, and is not entirely indicative of the quality you might expect of the edited draft.
You can expect the edited draft on the 31st of August in 2025.
Thank you for reading and if you wish to comment your thoughts please use the appropriate Patreon post.
-
CHAPTER SIXTY ONE
Percy turned his fingers to point towards her, the young man still shocked, his heart pounding within chest, thundering into his ears, and as their eyes met, he inhaled sharply.
Mana: 1 -> 0
Spell: Hex
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 6 (1)
Critical Miss!
‘Fuck! God damn it!’
The Crimson Flower winced, pulling back away from the beast in front of her, the woman taking the opportunity to flee, not even noticing the bolt of magic which scattered against the floor at her feet upon her retreat. However, a shadow formed over her back, and she turned, barely managing to deflect a terrible blow meant to fell her, though her entire body screamed with the pain of effort, for it was not simple to deflect a blow by the mighty Riva.
‘I had forgotten they were so swift of foot,’ the woman thought, before her blade snuck through the air, and managed to slice across Riva’s neck, causing him to drop to a knee as he reached for it, and the woman fled once more, daring not to spend the precious seconds to flee.
A snarl distracted her, but she shoulder barged the Malin, which caused his glaive to swing wildly, the crackle of lightning scattering across the earth, and she leapt away from him.
“Shiva! Don’t chase her!” Percy managed to shout, while willing forth his magic, noting how rough Shiva looked.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 23 (18)
Hit!
1D10 + 1D6 + 5 = 12 (6)(1)
12 damage!
A blast of magic struck her across her back, and she spat out, but she rolled and continued to charge into the tree line, where another bolt of magic followed.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 8 (3)
Miss!
Percy’s last bolt missed, the woman fleeing with the rest of her soldiers through the tree line, and though the Malin made to chase, a shout from the various Marshals caused them to pull back, the archers shooting into the forest, where the retreating bodies of the soldiers disappeared.
Shiva leapt to his father, uncorking the health potion, slipping it into the man’s mouth, helping him drink it as the fellow raged through dying, and as the health potion slipped into him, his wounds began to heal, his vision returning to him. Riva reached up, slapping his son’s cheek lightly, standing up, feeling the dizziness, but he flexed and forced it away.
Percy stared at Sal’s lifeless body, stuck with arrows, one through the throat, another through his head, two more through his open guts. He quickly looked away, forcing the sight out of his mind, but he couldn’t, covering his ears as the tears slipped through. ‘Fuck!’
Riva cut off the ropes, catching Sal’s lifeless body, covering his open wounds with his body as the blood spilled all over him. ‘Sal…’
Zal managed to drag himself forward, towards his brother, who was covered by a blanket, which stood up at the end of the arrows.
‘Don’t get caught!’ Sal had teased him before they had left for their scouting.
‘Me? Never.’ Zal had wondered if he had brought it upon himself with such a joke, as the tears slipped down his cheeks.
“Sorry, Zal,” Percy whispered, barely able to speak. He saw the flashes of the guts spilling out of the young man. It was savage, the kind of thing he’d read in textbooks about ancient wars, or the century previous, about the second war to end all wars, in which there were some truly horrid soldiers.
The warriors nearby began to tie up the prisoners together, some killing those who were too far gone, making sure those who seemed to be dead were truly dead, while others who were greatly wounded were lightly patched up and then claimed as prisoners to be ransomed off, or to gain their vengeance.
As they returned back to the village, some with heavy hearts, others delighted at the fact they had slain so many with so few losses on their own side, Percy was distracted.
Quest Complete: First Battle
XP Gained: +100
Quest Complete: First Kill
XP Gained: +100
Quest Complete: The Old Bear
XP Gained: +100
Victory!
XP Gained: +100
Quest Complete: Battle Assistance
Reward: Enchanting Enhanced
CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
Sleep came hard to Percy, even after a hot bath, and when he awoke in the morning, he spent a long while within the bath, using his magic to keep the water hot. Even as he returned back to the cabin, peeking towards his son, a chill remained running through him.
Percy sat down opposite his son, staring at the boy, who stirred lightly, but remained fast asleep, snoozing lightly. He held his head within his hands, imagining his son in the same position as Sal, his entire body tensing.
A knock at the cabin’s door took him out of his thoughts.
Shiva stared at the young man, who had never missed his morning routine for as long as he remembered, the young man always working out, then joining them to eat, but the darkness around Percy’s eyes revealed perhaps why.
“Let us run together,” Shiva said, placing a hand on Percy’s shoulder.
When they were deep within the woods, half way through their run, the pair paused, staring out at the dead trees around them. Shiva wait. And waited. And waited.
“That’s the first time…”
“Your first battle?”
“The first time I killed a person,” Shiva said. “I killed… I don’t know. At least one, but… I think I killed… three? Four?”
“How does it feel?”
“I thought it would have felt worse,” Percy admitted.
Shiva nodded.
“Do you remember your first?”
“When I was sixteen, a skirmish near the river, an Engwyn woman, she wielded a sword and shield, and she almost cut me down. I was knocked aside after I killed her, into the river. I almost drowned.”
“…”
“It is easier the second time,” Shiva said.
“It’s just…” Percy almost said something he didn’t believe. “I mean. I don’t, I didn’t have to think about that. I as away from all that. Sure, some guys came over, they bombed us, I don’t know, once every four or five years, but we were the ones to go over to bomb them, but it was out of sight, out of mind. You hear stories, you know? Some soldier said they would use… the girls there, they wore colourful scarves, and they would use them as target practise. We pretend as though we don’t, and when there’s a stink made about it, we decide to investigate one guy, and then decide to not investigate anything else. We’re better than them, you know? We, who invaded for their oil, we’re the good guys.”
Shiva wasn’t sure what Percy was talking about exactly, but he could hear the disdain, masked by shame, within his voice.
“Is that what they do, Shiva?” Percy asked, his voice cracking. “They gut you and toy with you like that?”
“Yes.”
Percy thought about what he said about his mother and sister. He stared down at the floor. “How do you not let the anger consume you?”
“To rage is to survive,” Shiva replied simply. “In my lifetime, I will use it well.”
Percy could hear the hope, the threat, in Shiva’s voice.
The various Chiefs, Marshals, and Shamans met together. A trio of them then spoke between one another about a certain fellow.
“We cannot deny it,” the Marshal said, his eyes falling on the Shaman. “His pills, his potions, his weapons.”
“I will not deny it,” the Shaman stated, he wasn’t that stupid.
Though they had been outnumbered, it wasn’t long before the reinforcements had arrived, somehow flanking the group, which had caused them to retreat. The Old Bear, the leader of the Bears of Kastar, had fallen in the fray, and Riva had claimed it had been thanks to Percy, something they couldn’t refute considering her helmet had caved into her face. They had lost a few warriors, but nothing compared to the enemy.
The loot of the battle had been spread throughout, and the prisoners had been taken to an underground area, and thus began the starvation, to keep them weak so they could not flee.
As the day passed, many villagers gathered, and the first drops of snow began to fall for the season, while the pyres stood tall and proud, for the bodies they needed to burn and bury. One figure was wrapped tighter than the others, and was surrounded by the most strips of cloth around the pyre.
“Do you see him?” Percy asked. “That’s mister Sal, who liked to spoil you. You can’t forget his face, okay?”
“Hoo!” The boy confirmed, certainly not understanding what was happening, nor that he would never see Sal again.
As the fires began, Percy handed his son to the Mo’An, who took him away, all the while he stared at the pyre with Sal.
“Was it a good death?” Percy asked, having heard the phrase a few times, never having imagined he would have spoken the words for Sal.
“I made it so,” Shiva replied.
Kasaki stood with the villagers, her eyes upon Sal, the most familiar face to her. She thought about how joyful the fellow seemed, and even in death, he wore a smile, which could barely be hidden even as the flames licked at his body.
‘What a shame.’
Shiva stared at the flames, feeling the dark aura from beside him, as Zal’s eyes remained fixated upon his brother’s flames, soon swallowed by the flames.
‘Go on ahead, cousin, we will join you soon,’ Shiva promised.
CHAPTER SIXTY THREE
“Your father did well,” Shiva said.
“Bababah!” Percival replied, holding up his hand towards Shiva.
“That is right,” Shiva said, smiling warmly, allowing the boy to grab his finger. Percival squealed with delight.
“Hoo!” Maya called out, frowning towards her father, reaching out with both hands.
Percy took back his son, pinching the boy’s cheek gently, thinking about heading out to work. “Did you hear that? Your father did alright during the skirmish.”
“Goo!”
“Are you proud?”
“Boo!”
Percy leaned in to plant a firm kiss on his son’s forehead, before heading back to work. He spent the next week enchanting the sword for the Oathsworn. If they were going to face against the army, they will need the Oathsworn at full strength. Apparently, Sir Petir and Sir Rahina would have been able to deal with the Crimson Flower and the one known as the Old Bear.
‘They said the Old Bear had a magical weapon, but it didn’t seem like it was more than just a +1 greatsword. If I can make +1 swords with +1D6 fire damage, that outclasses the greatsword by itself, and they can use a shield with it. If I make a greatsword with +1D6 fire damage, then the sword will have triple the base weapon damage, though it’ll be what, 3.5 additional damage in comparison? That’s pretty good. The difference between life and death is only a single point of damage.’
As he began to finish the magical sword, with the greatest enchantment he could currently employ, the village became abuzz with news. Greeting the villagefolk was a figure in full bark armour, with large antlers, and he carried a longblade at his side.
“I heard the news,” Ser Petir said, greeting Shiva and Percy. “You have no need to fear, for I have arrived.”
“With you at our side, we will be able to force back the army if they dare to attack again,” Shiva stated, certain of his words. He grinned wide, for a figure like Ser Petir, who surpassed even the Crimson Blade, and wielded Oathsworn magic…
“I’m glad you arrived recently,” Percy said, winking at the fellow.
“Oh?” Ser Petir grinned wide. “I am glad to have arrived so soon.”
Ser Petir took his place at a nearby cabin, not far from Percy.
“Look, it’s Ser Petir,” Percy said, tickling his son’s nose. “He is so strong, so strong, and he’s here to protect us!”
“Dah!” Percival reached up to grab his father’s hand, the boy pulling it back to suck against his father’s finger, but Percy didn’t allow it.
Once the blade was completed, he allowed the Chief to hand it over to the fellow.
Quest Complete: Arming the Order
XP Gained: +100
‘Hmm?’ Percy thought. ‘I only needed to arm two of them?
It wasn’t long later that he understood why, for trekking through the snow, the young woman appeared, Ser Tiana, escorted by a handful of villagers, and not just any villagers, but the various leaders who would one day become the Chiefs and Marshals of their respective villages.
Ser Petir stared at her, for she carried upon her back a large pack, and as he approached, he grabbed her by the shoulder. “What happened?”
“They attacked a few days after you left,” Ser Tiana said, opening up her pack, revealing the crown.
Ser Petir stared at the crown, blinking rapidly, before his eyes darted to Tiana’s. “Where is…”
“She remained behind…” Tiana admitted, her cheeks flushing red with shame, for she had been tasked with protecting the crown as Rahina fended off the small elite unit.
Petir remained silent for a long moment, his entire body tense, before he let out a gentle sigh. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “You did well, Ser Tiana.”
Tiana frowned, clenching her fists together. If she had stayed behind… ‘No. It is a useless thought.’
Shiva turned to face Percy, who had been in the middle of crafting a new magical sword, a third for the Order. He had already mentioned something weird about the Order.
‘Hey, didn’t the Order ask for three weapons?’
‘Yes?’
‘Huh. Alright…’
“Did you know?” Shiva whispered.
“No, but I saw the signs, I just didn’t realise that’s what it meant…” Percy admitted. “Fuck.”
Shiva bowed his head, patting his back gently.
It was later that night Petir practised his swordplay, melting the snow around him as his blade cut across it. He closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing. He knew what it meant to be at the mercy of the Engwyn. He only prayed she had managed to die before they could knock her out. No, perhaps she was lucky, and she buried herself. In which case...
Sir Petir turned, only to stop. “Step aside.”
“She requested I stop you,” Tiana said, for though she was exhausted, dark bags under her eyes, she had promised.
Petir stared at the young woman who dared to step in front of her. He held her gaze for a long moment, the young woman returning the gaze. He let out a pained sigh, his heart aching. ‘To think you would go on before me, Ray.’
Tiana frowned, her heart aching too, for the woman had been the one to teach her almost everything she knew. ‘Grandmother, when will you return?’
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
"I shall go,” Kahn said, clasping a hand upon Shiva’s shoulder. “I will take Zal with me to keep his mind off of…”
Kahn realised quickly how it may have been rather awkward for Zal to go with them to a sight of death, especially if the Engwyn had gotten to the Ser.
“I will watch over him,” Shiva assured, Kahn nodding in response before finding another scout to assist them on their return. Shiva glanced aside towards his father who was leaving with the Ser, just in case they came across the elite Engwyn who had dared to step forward.
Tiana frowned, wanting to go on ahead, but Petir had asked her to remain. Though she wished to assist with the funeral rites, and to see the aftermath of the Engwyn’s assault, she realised it would have been best for her to remain here, as a representative of the Order, but also to mourn. She only hoped the woman had managed to collapse the temple upon herself.
The group left, making their way through the hills, moving rather rapidly, especially thanks to the scout. As they charged ever forward, they came across the temple within days, finding it indeed collapsed, but with Ser Rahina’s body out in the open, stripped down, mutilated, with wounds which were fresh, but at the very least the woman had been dead long ago.
‘I should have remained,’ Petir thought, dropping to a knee as he covered her frozen body in a blanket, the fellow reaching up to cover his eyes as a tear slipped down his cheek. ‘Go on ahead, sister. I shall send you company soon.’
The villagers assisted with checking on the temple, finding much of it looted, though many of the larger items remained. From what they had seen, from the tracks which led away, and how much remained, they must have missed the group by a day.
“To think they dared to remain here for a few days…” Petir grit his teeth together, his cold body engulfed by the heat of rage. He took a mental inventory of what had been lost, quite a bit of wealth, a few artefacts, that sword, which was the greatest loss. His eyes fell upon one of the artefacts within the secret vault, a small tiara, reaching out for it with a finger.
‘I could be a Princess!’ Rahina had complained when they were much younger. ‘You only think so because you have never met royalty!’
‘Is it not the same for you?’ Petir had teased. ‘A Princess like you, such a nation would crumble before we knew it.’
He wondered just how many times they had fought about this and that. He thought of all the ridiculous arguments, many of his own making. He stared up towards the white sky, feeling the drops of the snowflakes against his cheeks.
They spent that evening preparing to burn the body, and the next day they collected all the treasure, which would need to be transported away. There was much of it which could remain, to be collected later, but they needed to take all the artefacts to the villages near the front, in which could they then request for support from the other villages northward, for they would not refuse such a summons.
“Ho?” called a feminine voice, causing the Malin to tense up for they hadn’t noticed her approach. “Graverobbers?”
Quest Complete: Arming the Malin
Reward Granted!
Multi Enchanting
Enchant +1 equipment equal to your Trained Bonus at once.
‘Damn!’ Percy’s eyes lit up, having no idea donating so many items would have granted him such an ability. ‘I need to tell the Chief.’
As he approached the Chief, he heard the commotion within the rest of the village, where he found the returning Ser Petir and his companions, and an old woman who was bundled in thick furs. She was lean, tiny, the furs she was bundled in tripling her mass, a soft face full of wrinkles greeting the other figures.
“Grandmother!” Tiana gasped, charging forward to almost tackle the woman, though she almost fell to her knees as they embraced.
“Oh dear, oh dear, you’ve become so thin,” the old woman said, pinching the girl’s cheek. “You are still growing, so you must eat.”
“Grandmother…” Tiana flushed awkwardly, and though she wanted to refuse the little pink marble the woman brought out from her pocket, she couldn’t, the girl tossing it into her mouth and sucked on it.
“It seems the Order will need to find a new home,” the old woman said, brushing the girl’s hair.
“Yes…”
“We are barely wealthy enough to start over,” Petir admitted.
“You will both have to work hard, and you'll both need to find new apprentices,” the old woman said, poking her granddaughter’s nose. “I will remain for now, watch over the building of the Order, and to protect it.”
“Yes!” Tiana gasped, since her grandmother being here meant they would find almost no trouble from the Engwyn.
“You must be Percy,” the woman accused, towards the one figure who was no Malin.
“I am,” Percy replied, noting the unassming old woman was more than he expected, feeling the way her eyes took in his sight.
“I have heard that you have assisted the Order greatly,” the woman said, holding out a hand, allowing him to hold it.
“I didn’t do much…”
“I didn't expect someone who wasn't a Malin to show us such favour.”
“Well, I am an Uldar.”
“Impressive.” She smiled, before glancing aside towards the other figure who was not a Malin. She smiled towards Kasaki, who bowed her head in return, and she approached the woman, speaking with her for a few moments. Within moments, Kasaki promised to assist the Order, and they promised to protect her.
CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE
“No crown, but this much treasure should be enough,” a knight said, peering through all the items, from the gems to the various artefacts they had managed to liberate.
“The Thousand Thunder Sword?” another knight said, the weakest of them all, but the reason why they brought him along was the fact he had all but memorised the various tomes of artefacts, so if he held the beautiful blade within his hands, a silver with a hint of blue, the blade engraved with swirls that seemed more like the raging sea rather than a storm, they had to relent to him.
“Are you certain?” the leader, Brom the Bull, asked, the fellow easily a head taller than the rest, and one of the few who could face the likes of Ser Rahina.
“I am certain,” the lean knight stated, reaching up to the glasses he usually wore, but found nothing, so it was slightly more difficult for him to see in the distance, though his eyes were fairly healthy otherwise, better at seeing minute details.
“I didn’t realise they had the sword,” another knight said, the one who technically outranked even Brom the Bull, for he was the younger brother of their liege, though he would give up his noble title soon enough. “If I had known, I would have attacked them myself earlier.”
Brom the Bull eyed up the young man, wondering if he would dare to claim what his brother would soon possess, but as he grinned that charming smirk, Brom realised he would just cause great trouble in exchange for giving it up.
“We couldn’t, not while that woman is still alive,” the lean knight said, again reaching for his missing glasses. “If we did not receive word she was elsewhere during snowfall, such a mission would have been difficult to accomplish.”
“Just be glad Lord Father will reward us all well,” the young Princeling said, for though he would give up the position of Duke to his elder brother, he would at least gain something equally as fine as the Thousand Thunder Sword. Ah, no, what could compare to such a blade? However, he was certain River Spirit Song would be his own, even if it was typically considered the family’s heirloom.
‘What a shame we have to give it up,’ Brom thought, but he eyed up the rest of the treasure, from the gems, to the various other bits and pieces, the rings and cloaks, which would soon adorn them for their fine work. Not even the Duke would be able to refuse their request to possess such items, for soon he would come into the possession of the Thousand Thunder Sword and also the honour of being the one who assigned his household knights to raid the Order, even if it was his second son who had taken the initiative.
“We’ll be fighting on the front lines soon,” the Princeling said, noting the way Brom was looking at the sword. “The Bears and Flowers routed.”
“As expected, you can’t trust the northerners,” Brom said, even though he himself was born in the north, though had been raised in the east.
As they made their way southward, a bird fluttered towards the Princeling, who unfurled the tiny note on its talon, and read it. He squinted his eyes, before handing it over to the lean knight to confirm.
“The Old Fox has appeared in the south!” the lean knight said, reaching up to his imaginary glasses.
Brom growled quietly, glancing down to the Princeling, who shrugged his shoulders and gave up the planned assault on the southern villages.
“It was hard enough to trek through the snow, let us return home,” the Princeling said, to the gratitude of his knights, the group continuing along the way to rendezvous with the remains of the so called elite units of the Northerly Dukedoms.
“We managed to burn down a few villages and the Order,” a knight mused aloud, reaching up to rub his chin. “I say, that is rather a good year of skirmishing!”
“It's a good thing the Frune only casually warred us this year, otherwise...” The Princeling couldn’t imagine the suffering they would have to go through if they had to actually fight.
“Must we step back because of some Old Fox?” the knight mused, rubbing his chin in thought.
“We might call her Old Fox, but don’t be fooled,” the Princeling warned, turning to meet the knight’s gaze. “She is considered to be equal to the likes of the Golden Sword of the Hills.”
The knight raised his brows in alarm, turning his gaze to Brom, who was but a child compared to the Golden Sword of the Hills. “I do say!”
“There are five reasons we cannot force the Malin out of our land,” the lean knight said, putting down his visor. “Their Dragon Turtle, Lady Kama, is the first, and greatest reason. The Old Fox is another. If she had caught us while we had liberated the temple from their desecration, half of us would have died, the other half forced to retreat.”
‘By the Divine Lords!’ The knight stopped rubbing his chin, donning his helmet once more, suddenly no longer quite so eager to continue his hunt.
Meanwhile, the old woman hummed a quiet song to herself in the evening, while her granddaughter meditated beside her, falling deeper into meditation thanks to the woman’s tune.
‘To think they would target our temple...’ The old woman continued to hum a tune, unable to regret the fact she needed to complete her task before returning.
CHAPTER SIXTY SIX
“To think they had managed to force their way so deep into our territory…” Kama mused aloud, hearing the complaints of the villagers, Kahn letting out a frustrated sigh, wanting to do much more than he could at this time. She dismissed them all, save for Ser Petir, who sat opposite the Supreme Elder, though with his head held high, and though the man had lost a little weight from mourning, his eyes remained sharp and eager.
“They looted the temple?” the Elder asked, narrowing her eyes, wishing to hear all which was lost. Hearing the items which they had lost caused her draconic heart to shudder, for losing the Thousand Rainbow Pearl was a great loss, losing the Thousand Thunder Sword was a travesty, and most importantly, she couldn’t believe they had stolen her favourite marble, which was only worth a few thousand silver at most!
“They moved too swiftly,” Petir whispered, unsure if he should say more at first, but he worked up the courage to continue. “It was as though they had planned this for some time.”
“We were too distracted,” Kama said, though understanding what Petir was trying to say. This was something that, even if they had planned for a while, could only happen if…
Petir remained silent, waiting for the Supreme Elder to continue. He thought of all they had lost, including the sword, the sword which once raised a King to the East, and then after being lost for a century, raised a King to the West. They had managed to regain the weapon a while ago, and it was the one of the main reasons why their Order managed to retain the influence to keep the Crown, and even if the sword may have been more valuable than the Crown, the Crown needed to be prioritised.
‘May the Divine Lords have mercy upon us,’ Petir thought.
“I will send word to the Tribes,” Kama promised, and with that, Petir thought about how effective praying to the Divine Lords was.
“Thank you, Elder Kama.”
“Go with the Grace of the Divine, Ser Petir,” Kama said, inhaling deeply, before splashing him with hot water, steam rising off his armour.
Ser Petir, suddenly awakened by the hot water, clasped a hand over his fist, bowed his head, and then sauntered off with renewed vigour.
‘If the Engwyn wish to go so far, then we must return the favour,’ Kama thought. The only issue was, would the Malin be willing to take it as slow as she wished? ‘Mortals, how you burn so brightly, and so quickly…’
Kama then checked on the note Kahn had handed the half dragon guard, who read it out aloud to her.
“Percy claims he is now able to…” The guard blinked, before continuing.
Kama blinked too, considering what she had learnt. ‘It seems we do not have to wait quite as long…’
Meanwhile…
“Oh my!” Percy exclaimed, gasping. “Isn’t the snow so cold?”
Percival squealed, holding onto his father’s hands as he stood, adorned in the thick clothing for snowfall, the boy’s cheeks so rosy, redder than his gums. The boy bounced lightly on his feet as his father held his hands until he finally dropped down onto his father’s lap, the pair nuzzling each other’s noses, before exchanging kisses on their cheeks.
Percy held his son close, their cheeks pressed together, the chill of snowfall tickling their faces as they kept one another warm. ‘I just need one more Level and I’ll feel so much more at ease…’
“Amamamama!” Percival babbled noisily, squealing once more.
“Yeah, I was planning on that too,” Percy admitted, staring down into his son’s eyes, which were so dark, almost black, but was certainly a dark green, just like his hair, which was thin, but so luscious.
“Ohoo?” Percival accused.
“What do you mean?” Percy opened his mouth in offence. “Charisma is daddy’s only good skill, so you can’t be saying something like that.”
Percival cackled, the boy almost throwing his head back with how hard he was laughing, before the pair embraced once more, kissing one another’s cheeks.
The old fox watched the pair, noting how affectionate the young Uldar was with his son. She closed her eyes, recalling her own son when he was but a babe. He was so light, too light, and he barely ate. It was a surprise to her that he even lived as long as he had, only passing away a few years after his own daughter was born, and even then, somehow, in a skirmish with the Engwyn.
‘Mother!’ the boy had coughed out when he was but a boy. ‘I am the strongest!’
‘The strongest? If you eat your vegetables, I might consider it.’
The toddler had blinked, staring at the vegetables. ‘Second strongest!’
The old woman considered just how funny her son had been, before opening her eyes to see Percy poke his son’s nose.
“I’ll have you know I was really good at maths, actually! I was so good, they had to make a new set for me!”
“Booboo.”
“You! How dare you say something like that, you cheeky little-,” Percy said, and before he could curse, he punished his son with a myriad of kisses all over his face, causing the boy to squeal and try to flee, but within the strong arms of his Strength 8 (-1) father, how could a son flee?
‘At least he is a good child,’ the old fox thought, having thought such thoughts about an Uldar.
“Don’t you scoot away from me!”
CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN
“You! How can you do this to me?” Percy asked, his heart breaking into pieces.
“Dada!” Percival replied, crawling up towards his father, leaving behind his favourite blanket.
“What?” Percy gasped. “Did you just call me dada too?”
“Dada!” The boy looked up at his father while right at his feet, the boy squealing as his father picked him up with ease.
“You! You started crawling and you said my name all at once? I already said you couldn’t grow up too fast when you started eating fruit and vegetables, but now this? You!” Percy planted a firm kiss on his son’s forehead, his son who was a genius, who was so cute, who made his heart swell so painfully with joy.
The Mo’An eyed the pair up, seeing the father act a fool, as always, but even she couldn’t help but feel soothed by his behaviour. There was no way it was an act, especially since he did it so much, and when he was around all sorts of people. Then there was the fact that the tears slipped down Percy’s cheeks, so overwhelmed he was to see he had seen his son crawl and say his first word, having missed them by hours, but at least his son had been so eager to show it to him.
“I’m sorry,” Percy whispered into his son’s ears. “Daddy needs to help out the village. I’ll take tomorrow off so we can play together, okay?”
“Oo!”
Percy sniffled, rubbing his eyes against his sleeves, before blowing his nose, the boy leaning in to allow his father to rub his nose too. Percy took his son out to meet with Layla and the others, the young woman holding onto her daughter who was in a particular mood that day, until she noticed Percy arrive, and the girl smiled bashfully.
“Is she bullying you?” Percy asked.
“She always does,” Layla replied, poking her daughter’s nose lightly, causing the girl to pull away from her and cackle.
‘Is she…’ Percy knew better than to ask, instead dropping down opposite her, the pair holding their children to their chest.
Shiva appeared not long after, carrying a small sack of herbs, that which Kasaki had handed to the village from her stash, as well as a few from the nearby villages, who paid their taxes to them instead of Kama so their alchemists could work. Shiva sat down beside Percy.
Percy noticed the way Shiva’s ears twitched, the young man doing his best not to smile. “What?”
Shiva leaned in, glancing from side to side, before whispering into Percy’s ear. “We have procured… giant blood.”
Percy suddenly sat up a little taller, raising his brows. “Giant’s blood?”
“The hill giants traded enough for at least ten potions,” the fellow confirmed. “Much food, much ore, and their blood.”
“What did you trade.”
“Just a few magical weapons that came into our possession,” he winked.
“Oh? How’d you get those?” Percy asked, only to blink at Shiva’s look, for he had already enchanted twelve +1 weapons for the village. ‘Oh! Those magical weapons!’
“It is no priority, but if you could craft at least one, it would be useful for us,” Shiva said. “Thankfully, many of us are strong enough, but sometimes it is good for the others to feel our strength.”
Percy chuckled as Shiva flexed his muscles, causing his pecs to dance, causing his wife to lean in slightly, the woman smirking.
As the days continue to pass, snow falling upon the land, Percy continued to enchant the various weapons and even a few shields, then went on to brew a single hill giant potion, just in case. He also enjoyed his time with Percival, though didn’t enjoy it when his son would drop his spoon, or throw the bits and pieces of fruit. His heart especially broke when his son pulled away from his fingers for the first time, though eventually relented to eat the fruit, since he did love bananas.
Percy panted, training hard with Shiva, the pair taking lessons from Ser Petir, who assisted their training.
‘I didn’t realise the gap between us was that much!’ Percy thought, since Shiva and he together were so easily handled by the Ser. ‘Damn!’
He also informed the Chief of the new pills he was able to craft.
Blood Burst Pill.
‘Damn, that’s a sick as hell pill. For the next minute you can make up to three attacks with Advantage? Nice to burst people down, or as a finisher…’ He noted the issue which was after the minute, or after using all three charges…
‘Hold on, isn’t this useless for half of the Malin?’ Percy thought since they were each Barbarians, and had the ability to do something similar once they reached Level 2. ‘Aw.’
He felt a chubby hand grab at his wrist, the girl beside him clasping her fingers around his fingers, claiming his hand within her own.
“Maya?”
The girl looked up, staring at him for a long moment, before smiling.
“Are you here to cheer me up?”
“Kekekek!”
“Thank you.” He smiled, reaching over to fix her little hat, before pinching her nose.
CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT
As the days continued to pass, the last week of snowfall arrived. The young man had completely all he had set to do, and though he had thought he had the last week to work, the Chief half but threatened him from work, for he had spent so long working. She had finally received payment for his work too, from the villages, from their own treasury, and from Supreme Elder Kama.
‘A thousand gold,’ Percy thought, noting the pile of gold, silver, and all the gems, which he would hand over to the Chief for safekeeping. Technically, considering each +1 weapon could be sold for anywhere between six hundred and a thousand, he would have made quite a pretty sum of coin, but he had donated so many items, and had to repay the cost of enchanting, which cut his profits by roughly half.
Regardless of how much they shortchanged him, he realised this much was more than enough, since the Malin had gone so far to protect him and watch over his son.
“Shiva…” Percy called one day, when the pair had completed their morning routine within the longhouse, jogging on the spot and completing a set of calisthenics.
“Percy.”
“If something ends up happening to me, will you take in Percival as your own?” Percy asked out of the blue.
“I will call him my nephew, and will watch over him,” Shiva promised. “How could I compare to you?”
“I suppose I am a pretty amazing father,” Percy said, although his tone implied he didn’t wholly believe his words. He stared up at the ceiling.
“You do not have to worry, for you are hard to kill,” Shiva said, stretching his sides on either side of him, the half naked Malin revealing his thicker body which he had forged during snowfall. He had gained at least ten kilos over the year, Percy recalling the first time they had met, and most of it during the snowy season.
Percy, on the other hand, also half naked, was as lean as ever, and looked as strong as his thin arms implied. ‘Man, I really need to gain a bit of weight…’
“Zal has returned from his pilgrimage,” Shiva said. “It is good he has managed to return for the last week of snowfall.”
“Next year…”
“We will plan to retaliate,” Shiva confirmed. “Your weapons will assist, for such weapons are among their elites, but for us, now, they are almost as numerous as the children.”
“Plus all the pills I could make for us, and the health potions, same with Kasaki,” Percy said, considering their strengths. ‘Now that I think about it, I haven’t really spoken to her much.’
“We will fight well,” Shiva said, clenching his fist, stretching even those small muscles. “We will destroy their villages. Then, in the next few years, we will target their temples, as they desecrated ours.”
“Their temples too?”
“We will not desecrate them, for they are also our temples, but we will regain our treasures, our artefacts, and show the Divine Lords we pay greater respects.”
“I'm not sure all this war business is for me, but...” Percy sighed. “I need to grow stronger to watch over Percival.”
“I aim to become an Expert at least,” Shiva admitted. “In the next few years, Kahn and I will do so.”
“Yeah, same,” Percy admitted too. “Let's do it together.”
Shiva grinned wide, reaching out a hand, and the pair clasped hands together, flexing their biceps as they did. “First you should find yourself a wife!”
“I don't know. I think I'm hated enough by everyone else that it'll be hard. So I guess it has to be not a Malin, not an Engwyn, probably not a Frune?” Percy smiled awkwardly.
“I believe in you, Percy,” Shiva stated.
Percy flushed a deep red, smiling slightly. Once they were done, he assisted with the baths, having his own first before he warmed up the basins for the others, who enjoyed the fact that their village was the only one, save for the few near the north, which could enjoy hot baths during snowfall with ease, all thanks to a particular fellow who was not a Malin, not an Engwyn, certainly not Frunish, but definitely an Uldar.
Quest Complete: Weapons of War
XP Gained: +100
As the snowfall festival took the Malin for the last week of the season, Percy relaxed, spending time with his son, who dared to crawl away whenever he saw his father, though cackled with delight as he was lifted up.
“Make sure you say thank you to the Mo’An for helping you,” Percy stated, while his boy cackled with delight. He glanced over towards her, realising he hadn’t really done much for her. ‘They gave me a bunch of herbs and stuff as part of my payment, maybe I should make something for her?’
“Do you know why it snows, Maya?” Shiva asked, his daughter sucking her thumb while staring up at him, the girl nestled up to her mother’s bosom. “It is because the Winter Mother weeps.”
“Oo…” Percival called, hearing the name, the boy glancing up at his father.
“What’s wrong?” Percy asked.
Percival turned, resting his head against his father’s chest, clutching at his collar. Percy stared down at his son, noting his features. The boy’s eyes were slightly farther apart compared to the average babe, his nose slightly thinner, his lips slightly wider. He had this snake like quality to him, though only a hint, and his ears were slightly pointed, revealing his Angyr heritage.
Still, no matter what anyone said, even the Divine Lords knew just whose son he was.
‘Don’t worry, Percival,’ Percy thought, snuggling his son close. ‘I’ll definitely grow even stronger.’
‘Dada…’
2025-09-28 14:00:13 +0000 UTC
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CAUTION:
This is a very rough draft of the first third or so of the novel, and is not entirely indicative of the quality you might expect of the edited draft.
You can expect the edited draft on the 31st of August in 2025.
Thank you for reading and if you wish to comment your thoughts please use the appropriate Patreon post.
-
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
Percy began to train more fervently in the morning, running a little harder, completing more repetitions of his workouts, trying to lift heavier weights.
‘Hmm?’ Percy thought over breakfast, only just checking up on the enchantments he could enchant, finding that his ability to enchant fire based weapons had increased. ‘Why…’
Percy’s eyes trailed through the air, scanning the words. ‘Ah? I took Fiery Rebuke and it amplified the enchantment? I didn’t realise.’
+1/2/3
+1D4/D6
‘I wonder if I can increase that to 1D8, or, even better, 2D4.’ He then thought about enchanting a weapon with fire, but if he was going to spend time heading to Azari, then fire wouldn’t help him as much if he came across flame based creatures. ‘Do I need two swords? One thunder or lightning, one fire? How rich do I need to be?’
As the day passed, a stranger appeared. She was large figure, tall, thickly built, and wore grey scaled armour that seemed to be made of stone, carrying a large staff, as well as a large blade which hung loosely upon her side, and upon her back she carried a large pack made of wood and sack.
The Chief stood beside Kasaki as she checked upon the soil, holding it within her hand, before scattering against a nearby tree, noting the way it fell and the patterns which stuck to the bark.
“I will need to check the soil of the other villages,” Kasaki said, as though she were the kind of person to speak with the Chief in a distant manner.
“As you wish,” the Chief said, motioning a hand to Shiva, who stormed forward to accompany her.
‘What’s she doing here?’ Percy thought, his questions answered later in the evening when she commandeered a hut, under the Chief’s will, and settled herself within it. ‘I didn’t expect her to actually come.’
Percy continued to enchant, though did so carefully, within the Chief’s basement so he was not easily figured out. When it was the day of the festival, however, he took the day off.
Though the village had ballooned in size due to a tragedy, the Malin were chipper, welcoming the rain with open arms, quite literally, dancing within the rain, the flames protected by tarp, the smell of the soup filling the land.
“Percy,” Shiva called, adorned in his robes, which had grown heavy with rain, and he turned to the rest of the others. “Watch this. Percy, use your magic to dry me.”
Percy finished the last bite of his makeshift wrap, and then held out his hand, only to realise he couldn’t speak the words to his trick, so raised a finger for a moment, quickly swallowing it down, almost choking, drinking his juice quickly, before coughing. “Sorry.”
After his little comedy routine, Percy cast his magic, which instantly dried Shiva’s clothing, soon darkened and heavy with rain again, the other villagers cheering at his simple magic.
“What other magic do you know?” one asked.
“I know how to shoot out a beam of magic, though I can also bring forth…” He thought about what else he could do. “That’s about it, really.”
“Amazing! Will you go out to fight too?”
Percy smiled awkwardly. He glanced aside to Kahn, who had received about a fifth as many scarves as he wished, all because he wasn’t going to fight immediately. However, he did not complain, glad he had received this much support. “I may.”
“With you at our side, I believe we will be able to claim victory!”
“Oh?”
“I have heard that your magic is not weak,” a villager said.
“Not weak at all, Uldar.”
Percy flushed slightly. “Ah, well, I prefer alchemy, and I’ve noticed others prefer fighting, so I’ll create many potions so you can fight longer.”
The villagers blinked, but laughed at his words.
“I didn’t realise the Uldar was so wise!”
“He’s the Uldar, of course he’s wise!”
“Is that your son?” a villager asked.
“He is.”
“He sleeps so well, even with all this rain!”
“He likes the rain,” Percy admitted, smiling to himself. “He sleeps so comfortably to the sound of rain.”
“I see he’s an Angyr of the Snake Lord.”
Shiva elbowed the fellow to his side. “Percival has caused the least trouble of all the babes.”
“We’re fortunate so many Angyr arrived within our land,” a villager said. “Though…”
The air grew heavier at the implication.
“If the Angyr wish to fight, we will raise our spears to meet them,” Shiva said.
“Fighting the Angyr…”
“Will you back away?” Shiva asked.
“I will not!”
As the festival passed, Percy held his son within his arms, relaxing within his bed, hearing the rain outside. Even his heart was soothed by the rain, while the boy snoozed so peacefully. The Mo’An meditated too, the woman remaining in the other half of the cabin, which was like two cabins joined together.
‘I just need to take things one day at a time…’
CHAPTER FIFTY TWO
“Who do you think you are, the Undertaker?” Percy joked, all the while his son rolled around on his blanket, trying to reach his father on either side. He picked Percival up, the boy jerking his head slightly, before he smiled so brightly. “You want to play with your rattle?”
“Oo! Bahbahbah!” The boy reached up towards his father’s face, though was distracted by the rattle, which he grabbed and shook violently, stopping when he looked to his father, shyly smiling.
Percy’s heart shook within his chest. ‘Damn. Every time you look at me this way, I feel like I need to wrestle a lion or something…’
The Mo’An had spoken to the Supreme Elder about Percy’s unique disposition, but even she realised she didn’t understand it, nor how deep it went. Percy spent so much of his free time with his son, or around his son, and doted on the boy more than any other she had ever seen. One might have thought he was a Mo’An!
“Peekaboo!” Percy called, revealing himself to Maya, who gasped, and then squealed and cackled. He repeated it several times with the girl, who continued to laugh and gasp with delight.
Layla was glad Percy seemed so eager to play with Maya, allowing her some peace. She was equally glad Maya was not quite as troublesome with him, so he could play with her even longer. She could feel the urge to fight again, but considering her current condition, she realised she would need much more time to return to the battlefield.
“Perhaps we should give him a position as a childminder?” Shiva said.
“He is an Uldar, and he is better suited to alchemy,” the Chief said, although she understood where he was coming from. The more Percy ingratiated himself into the Malin, the more welcoming the Malin would be, and the higher likelihood he would remain.
“You should be proud, Maya,” Percy said, pinching the girl’s nose gently. “Your father is someone who is going to be the right hand man of the Chief of Chiefs.”
“Boosh!”
“Your mother, I heard she's been wanting to return to her training, though... Your father wants you to have a few more siblings before too long…” Percy chuckled awkwardly.
She held his finger and clutched it tight, the girl staring up at him, smiling mischievously, before letting out a squeal that stated she had managed to commit trouble, the girl looking away as she sucked on her hand.
‘Shiva, you need to spend time with your daughter, who is way too cute…’
Later that evening Percy ended up swinging his blade constantly, all the while the Mo’An watched, holding Percy, who noted the shapes in front of him, one which was the unmistakeable shape of his father, so the boy watched calmly.
“Kahn is going to become the Chief of Chiefs, and Shiva, he’s going to be Kahn’s right hand man…” Percy called, as though Percival understood his words. He panted, feeling the ache within his body, his sweat drenching through his clothing, the gentle rain washing the sweat out of him.
“Still! Percival, my boy, you’re going to be the proudest one!” Shiva swung his blade with his other arm in the lead, trying to train both hands. “Your father, he’s going to be the strongest!”
“Oo!” The boy exclaimed.
“Hahaha! Maybe not the strongest, since I can barely lift this sword, but I’ll definitely be the most powerful!” Percy called out to his boy, only then recalling the Mo’An was watching too. He wiped his brow. “You can’t be like me, though. I was forced into this position because I’m weak. You don’t have to worry though, since you’ll be so charismatic, you’re so cute so you’ll naturally be charistmatic of course, so becoming an Oathsworn is better for you…”
‘With that, he should be able to use weapons and armour, and magic too.’
The boy yawned, leaning back against the Mo’An’s bossom.
“Ah, are you tired?” Percy carried his son into the cabin, placing the boy down into his little sleepsack, planting a kiss on his forehead. He stepped out immediately after to train, feeling the chill of the rain. He warmed his clothing up, drying it off, but it invaded again and again, until he had exhausted himself.
Once he was done bathing, using a few herbs to calm his body, he returned back to find his son still sleeping. ‘I know I’m spending so much time away, Percival, but this father of yours, what else can he do?’
CHAPTER FIFTY THREE
“Bah bah bah bo bo bo,” Percival babbled noisily to his father after breakfast.
“Look at you, so loud, so boisterous!” Percy cooed.
The milk maid watched as Percy tickled the boy’s nose, adoring him so tenderly. It had escalated recently, and considering Percy’s words, she understood why. The villages nearby had been put to the flame, some even died, and the Engwyn…
‘Even when he's loud and annoying?’ the Mo’An thought.
Goo! He clutched at his father's finger tight, smiling with such an adorable smile.
“You're never going to guess. Daddy made something really amazing!” Percy whispered once the Mo’An left to speak with the Chief.
“Oo!”
Kahn sighed, considering Percy’s words. It was too late to regret them now, though he had managed to procure the support of at least two dozen warriors, each eager to join his merry band of warriors.
“Hmm?” Kahn thought, staring down at the sword. “Another greatsword?”
“This one is a little stronger than your previous weapon,” Percy said. “Right now, this is all I can do, but one day, this shall become the weakest your warriors will wield.”
“Will you adorn all my warriors with such a grand blade?”
“Grand? I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but I told you didn’t I? I’d show you.” Percy thumped Kahn’s bicep gently. “I’ll give you a pretty good discount, or I’ll just take a cut of the loot you bring back.”
Kahn couldn’t help but smile, hearing such fine words, which sparked a fire within his heart.
“Kahn. Enjoy this weapon while it lasts, because in the future, you'll be gifting this greatsword to someone else.”
“Why?”
“I'll make you an even nicer one, so save that sword for my son, will you?”
Kahn chuckled and placed a hand upon the young man's shoulder. He squeezed it reassuringly before heading out to train with it. As he wielded the blade in both hands, he could feel how light it was, and yet, was a blade he wielded every quite so heavy? He thought he’d have to wait long, but with this sword in his hand…
‘How many years has it been since we have been able to wield such great weapons? Our land has barely been able to keep what few scraps we once managed to defend, but now...’ He had no idea how their land had become so fortunate, but he decided not to look a gift goat in the mouth.
Percy thought about enchanting another sword that week. This time, it was for the Oathsworn. He needed to get more people on his side, for Kahn. Though they could eventually betray him, if he worked hard, worked earnestly, he genuinely believed they would become like family to him. No, wasn't he already an Uldar?
As the rain began to fall, he stood, staring at the world around him. He reached up to his chin and realised he needed to shave. ‘Now that I think about, their clothing doesn't really suit me. I should focus on getting dripped out.’
He cast his light magic to dry himself off, feeling a lightness within his heart.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” called a voice.
Percy blinked, his eyes darting around, for he saw someone in the middle of the village, the kind that shouldn’t have been here since…
‘Isn’t she an Engwyn?’
“That is Doctor Agatha, and her apprentice, Fiona,” Shiva explained, whispering towards Percy.
‘Fiona is really cute, though… why is her hair pink?’
Agatha was tiny, skinny, and bundled in thick clothing and furs. She sat and checked upon each of the children, using her various concoctions to check their blood.
“Doctor Agatha passes by every few years. Fiona has followed her since she was a little girl.”
“Oh?”
“She is one of the few Engwyn who can pass through. Her, a few Oathsworn to the Deer Lord, and a handful of others.”
‘I need to figure out all the Divine Lords of the world...’
“You and I will escort her through the land.”
“We will?” Percy asked, raising his brow.
“It would be best.”
“What about the pills and potions?” Percy asked, raising his brows.
“They can wait. We can travel with her for the start of snowfall, and then during the rest of snowfall, you may complete your tasks.”
“Alright, if you say so…”
“What are you doing here?” Agatha asked, staring right at Percy.
“I'm just... I was welcome here.”
“Strange,” the woman said. “Come here, allow me to check your health.”
Percy looked to Shiva, who nodded. As she held his hand, she let out a gentle hum of curiosity, and a warmth tickled through his arm.
“I see.” She withdrew. “You are healthy enough. Who is this boy?”
“This is Percival, my son,” Percy replied.
Without asking, she also checked upon the boy, who twitched in shock and made to cry.
“Hey…” Percy narrowed his eyes.
“Do not worry,” she said. Then she pulled back and pricked the boys heel gently, placing the blood into a vial, shaking it. The liquid turned from clear, to red, to green and gold. After a moment of thought she handed the vial to the Chief, for she was too old to have such greed. “Do you have a poison pill for when he is older?
“Yes.”
“Which pill?”
“One Hundred Poisons Pill.”
“How did you procure that?”
“Elder Kama.”
“Ah!” She eyes him up. “Hmm. How are you finding the people?”
“Sharp, but soft enough.”
She smiled. “Your son is healthy and growing as expected.”
She continued her tasks, checking upon the health of all the children, and sometimes, some of the adults.
‘Hmm…’ Percy thought, but since Shiva trusted her, what could he do?
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
“You?” the young woman asked, glaring at Kahn. “Who are you to escort her through the north?”
“Who are you to block our path?” Kahn asked in return, the pair glaring between one another.
Kayla, Layla’s older sister, Kahn’s younger sister, leaned in to whisper into Percy’s ear. “It is good fortune to escort the doctor, and many wish for it. We typically escort her because she passes through Paragon’s Rest first.”
“We are not one who has failed to defend our village,” the young woman stated, snarling at Kahn lightly.
“You who hides far from the frontier have no experience in defending,” Kahn agreed.
The pair hissed and snarled and snapped at one another, a dance to try and gain great favour with the doctor, and great honour with their people.
Fiona’s eyes fell upon the young man before her, who stood awkwardly as he watched the pair fight. “How long have you stayed with the Malin?”
“Since the beginning of the year, so nine months and a little,” he admitted.
She nodded her head, noting the weapons he carried, as well as his overall physique. “What do you do within the village?”
“I’m an alchemist.”
“An alchemist? You do not look like alchemists I know of.”
“What do alchemists normally look like?”
“They are not so clean.”
“What do I look like then?”
“Like someone who… reads.”
“A scholar?”
“A scholar, not far from an alchemist, I suppose,” the young lady said.
“I used to be a bigger guy, but now I’m a lean mean fighting machine,” Percy joked, chuckling lightly. “Though I had to keep a sharp mind to survive, or at least, that’s what I’d like to think.”
“Are you able to use that sword?” Fiona’s voice held a hint of doubt.
“Let's hope you don't find out?” Percy joked, shrugging his shoulders.
“I am inclined to agree,” the young woman admitted, before Kahn and the other young woman were dragged away from one another, and Agatha chose to continue her escort with Kahn.
The group continue ever forward, through the spired of dark trees, devoid of green, nor did orange kiss their branches. The chill of the late season began to seep into the world, not yet white, but it loomed on the horizon.
They approached a small glade, but stopped before entering it. Agatha waited for Kahn, who dropped to a knee and cut into his hand, spilling his blood into the earth, and instead of an open clearing, a small statue of a snake engulfing a person stood before them. It was perhaps half a man tall, and half as wide, but the oppressive aura which spilled out of it caused Percy’s heart to beat rapidly.
“It is a shrine to the Snake Lord,” Shiva whispered.
“Yeah, that checks out.” Percy was certain he was more of an evil Divine Lord, so when the group dropped to their knees to pray, he was a little surprised, but he wasn’t one to go against the grain. As he dropped down, he thought about Percival, who was apparently related to the Snake Lord. ‘No matter what anyone says, thank you.’
A wetness flicked against the back of Percy’s neck, as though a snake slithered and licked against his neck. He twitched, pulling away to the side, half falling on Shiva, who caught him.
“What is wrong?”
“I felt something on the back of my neck,” Percy said, reaching back to feel his neck, finding nothing. “Do you see anything?”
“No.”
“Huh…” Percy frowned, unsure of how to feel about that. “Alright?”
Once the group prayed to the Snake Lord, they continued along their way, towards a nearby village, who noted where they had come from and merely nodded at them. It wasn’t long before they continued along to a familiar place.
“Doctor, many blessings to you,” Petir said, bowing his head towards the old woman.
“Many blessings to you,” the woman replied, greeting the emerging pair, Ser Tiana and Ser Rahina. The woman quickly checked their health, though expected them to be the peak of health considering they were Oathsworn. “How is your grandmother?”
“She is well,” Tiana replied, smiling. “We thought she would return soon, but it seems she’s being kept up by something.”
“She has such responsibilities,” Agatha replied, understanding the woman’s role.
As Agatha and the others began to settle within the temple, Shiva handed over the blade to Ser Petir, who accepted it from the young man.
“It holds quite the enchantment.” Shiva smiled a cheeky smile.
“What kind?”
“You will see.”
Ser Petir tested the blade, and returned with a heavy heart. They had only paid five hundred gold and provided a weapon for the young man, but this weapon, it was certainly worth far more than even the cheap price they originally expected to pay for a weapon which did not hold the additional enchantment.
‘I cannot allow them to think we are so frugal…’ l
Rahina caught his gaze, the pair speaking with their eyes for a moment. Rahina then disappeared, returning back with gifts for the group, a small pouch of herbs for Agatha, who checked within them, noting a singular herb which caused her brows to raise, while Percy checked the other.
‘Oh?’ Percy smiled at the herbs, pulling the strings, his eyes darting between the Oathsworn trio who pretended as though he wasn’t an enchanter. ‘Slipping in gems with the herbs? How sly!’
CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE
“She requires the norabalium thistle,” Agatha said, holding the young girl’s wrist, placing a pair of fingers against her veins. She had checked her health this way already, searching into the girl’s body, but after checking the girl’s body, she wanted to double check. She was still burning up, far too hot for a child, but there was something else that swirled within her. “I need to brew a concoction with the herb, otherwise her fever may overwhelm her.”
“We must have it,” the mother said, while the father had darted out to check with the Shaman, who was quite the medic, but his knowledge of medicine was not quite as vast as Doctor Agatha.
“The norabalium thistle…” The Shaman reached up to brush his beard, his ears drooping slightly. “Unfortunately, such a herb…”
“How unfortunate…” Agatha said, understanding the chances had suddenly decreased.
“Where is it?” Percy asked, trying to avoid looking at the toddler whose raspy breath filled the air.
“It is found near the mountains,” the Doctor said, motioning her head to the distant mountains. “Perhaps, if you are lucky, along the hills on the way.”
“What does it look like?” Percy asked, staring down at the old woman.
Agatha held his gaze for a long moment. She reached into her shirt and slipped out a book, beginning to sketch the herb within it, writing down various notes, as well as a description for it just in case her drawings did no justice. ‘Should I send Fiona?’
Percy stared at the herb for a long moment, searing it into his mind, before folding the piece of paper and handing it to Shiva for safekeeping. “Kahn, are you alright to stay here with the Doctor for a few days?”
Kahn nodded.
“I’m going to need a few people from the village to assist,” Percy said, glancing aside to Shiva, who would definitely come along, and so would Sal. Rayn flexed her muscles, eager to step out. Another pair of villagers joined the group as they made their way out, for it was roughly mid way into the day when they had arrived.
“We have to be careful,” Shiva warned.
“What for?”
“There are wyverns around this territory.”
“You what?”
“Wyverns. They are similar to drakes.”
“I know what a wyvern is, I just didn’t expect them to be around here,” Percy said. ‘You could have told me that before we left with just a handful of us.’
“It is rare to come across them,” Shiva explained.
“Don't jinx it...”
As they trekked from village to village, following over and around the hills, they found little issues. Shiva spoke with the villagers any time they approached, and after hearing what they were up to, and that the Doctor would arrive soon, the villagers blessed them on their journey, sending words out ahead to keep an eye out for any danger.
As the days passed, with Percy’s calves burning, they eventually came across a particular herb, one the young man had seared into his mind through staring at the paper for hours and hours. He plucked it from the hard earth with a strong arm, that was to say, a weak arm, but the plant was hardier, and would manage to survive even a typical blow from a longsword.
“Alright, let’s head back,” Percy said, with a few hours before dusk.
“We should rest,” Shiva said, noting how hard Percy was panting.
“We can rest when we’re back,” Percy said, though he stopped, his companions around him all drawing their weapons as they spotted the large red creature which carried a deer while it flew off in the distance. ‘Holy!’
“We are fortunate,” Shiva said calmly. “If it is carrying a deer it will think little of us.”
“That’s good.”
“Unless it wishes to play for sport.”
“Shiva…”
“We will need to convince it to leave if it decides to hunt us,” Sal said, smiling wide, ready to shoot an arrow. “My arrow, your magic, I am sure we will be able to deal with it.”
“Really?”
“Most of us will die, but we will likely kill it,” Sal said, as though almost all of them dying wasn’t a big deal.
“…”
CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
Agatha fed the girl the concoction, though she pulled away, coughing and hacking the disgusting liquid out. “If it tasted good, it would not help.”
“Why are you wasting our hard work?” Adam tutted. “Here, let me use my magic to make it taste nicer.”
Agatha raised her brow as he cast a simple trick, staring down at the liquid which hadn’t changed.
“I made it taste like chocolate ice cream, which she should enjoy, since I’m not sure I’ve ever met a kid who didn’t like chocolate.”
“…” Agatha fed the girl the liquid, and at first she pulled away, but after tasting it the toddler started to slurp it down.
“Alright, now don’t worry your parents any more,” Percy joked, the girl almost completely ignoring him.
Fiona stared at the young man, wondering what compelled him to take such danger in order to find the herb. ‘It is fortunate they did not find much danger…’
The next morning, Agatha thanked them for their assistance, before continuing on without them.
‘I didn’t even flirt with her,’ Percy thought, thinking of the cute pink haired Fiona. ‘I guess that’s life.’
As they made their way back, they passed by the Order.
“Are you looking for another magical weapon?” Percy whispered to Petir.
“We may request another,” he confirmed.
“I’ll try to make another equally as powerful as that one,” Percy said.
Petir was surprised he could make such wonderful weapons. He had expected the young man to make the typical magical weapon, which was quite valuable, for though Masterworks existed, they were not magical. However, a blade which dealt greater damage, that was worth so much more. They could afford it at the very least. It was awkward that they wielded simpler weapons than Tiana.
“I’ll give you a fair price,” Percy assured. “Although, I might end up making it early next year rather than this season, since I’ve got quite a few potions and pills to craft.”
“That is understandable,” Petir assured.
“I, uh… also have a small favour to ask, if you’re willing to listen?”
“Speak, Uldar.”
“I was hoping the next time you go on a Long Hunt, if you could take myself and Shiva along with you?”
“That is… not a difficult task.”
“Ah! Thank you! I really need the Experience.”
“How skilled are you with a blade?”
“Not the strongest, admittedly, but I’m not terrible. In a few years, I’ll be even greater with the blade, and my magic, especially if I…” Percy wasn’t sure how to describe it. “Especially if I’m smart.”
“Would you be willing to spar?”
“Sure,” Percy replied, not wanting to, but he had to show off his abilities a little.
Percy donned his shield and drew his blade, feeling the connection between it and himself. Meanwhile the young woman stood opposite him, wielding her magical blade, the pair staring at one another.
‘He mentioned he was able to grow more powerful, but he hasn’t yet, has he?’ Tiana thought.
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 6 (5)
Attack: Gentle Lightning Blade (Charisma)
D20 + 5 = 12 (7)
Miss!
The pair sparred lightly, each missing one another, the young woman adorned in her breastplate over chain, wielding her blade in both hands, while he fought behind his shield.
Attack: 9
Miss!
Attack: 13
Miss!
Health: 18 -> 9
“Guh!” Percy grunted as the young woman forced him back with a heavy blow, his arm throbbing as the pair continued to clash.
Petir watched, surprised at how both were facing one another with such little deadliness. ‘I did say to hold back, but this is a little too much…’
Attack: 13
Miss!
Attack: 13
Miss!
‘Come on!’
Attack: Gentle Lightning Blade (Charisma)
D20 + 5 = 21 (16)
Hit!
1D8 + 1D4 + 5 = 10 (4)(1)
10 damage!
“Ha!” percy almost roared, managing to force her back with a particularly wild swing.
‘He isn’t bad,’ Tiana thought, panting for air, feeling her lungs beginning to burn with effort, but she was still a touch healthier than her opponent.
Health: 9 -> 0
Health: 0 -> 5
Percy gasped as he came to, seeing Shiva’s face in front of him, the confusion filling him as he looked around to see a pair of familiar faces. He closed his eyes, the memories returning to him, especially of the young woman almost slicing through his neck, but thankfully she merely struck his jaw with the flat of her blade, even if it did knock him out.
“You fought well!” Petir said, for how many could last so long against Tiana? Even Shiva may have had similar luck against her.
“Thank you. I expected you to be strong, but not that strong.”
“Thank you?”
Quest Complete: Spar
XP Gained: +50
‘That’s one fifty from this one outing alone? Ah, no, two hundred, considering I finished enchanting the sword.’
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
Paragon’s Rest looked so different. When he first arrived, it was a small village, and a few weeks ago, when the Engwyn came and burnt down the nearby villages, it had expanded into a much larger village, almost a town, with a large fence all around.
Now, however, it looked far more different. The smoke, the ash, the darkness of destruction painted the landscape, the nearby trees also a casualty of the cruelty of war.
Percy stared at the village, frozen as the villagers spotted the group upon their return, a few walking over to greet them.
“What happened?” Kahn asked.
“What happened?” Shiva asked, much more aggressively, the young man’s breathing heavy.
“The Engwyn came in a greater force. They came and we had to abandon the village, for fear we would have lost more.”
‘Twice?’ Shiva thought, wondering what the chances were that they somehow out of the village twice when the Engwyn attacked. “Who was it?”
“The Bears of Kastar.”
“Kastar?” Shiva asked.
“The Bears of Kastar?” Kahn repeated, his voice full of surprise.
“What are they doing so far from their hills?” Rayn asked, his anger tempered by the excitement that she could finally spill blood.
“To nourish our soil with blood,” Kahn growled. He was still shocked they dared to attack during snowfall of all seasons. They would need to retaliate swiftly if they were still around, otherwise they would need to prepare to invade some time early next year.
Shiva grabbed onto Percy’s shoulder, noting how pale the young man had become. “Come, let us head to the nearby village.”
The colour returned to Percy’s face, his heart thundering in his chest, sweat pouring down his forehead as he clutched his son tight against his chest. His breath came to him with great labour, barely able to fill his lungs. “Oh, Percival. Did daddy worry you?”
The boy squealed in response, reaching up to grab his father’s face and ears, all the while Percy nuzzle against his son’s nose and then peppered his son with kisses all over his face.
“Sorry, my boy. Sorry.” Percy held his son tighter against his chest, his heart still thundering and pounding within his heart as he held onto his boy. “Sorry.”
Percival clutched at his father’s collar, snuggling up to his chest, the boy feeling the warmth that was his father.
“How are you, Mo’An?”
“Well,” the woman admitted. “Your son has something to show you, soon.”
“What is it?”
“You will see.” The woman could see the complicated expression on the young man’s face, as he held his son close, almost inhaling the boy’s scent with each struggling breath, while the boy enjoyed the attention and how much affection his father was giving.
Percy checked on Maya, who seemed completely oblivious of what had happened, the same as Percival, while Layla seemed more stressed. Percy returned back to Paragon’s Rest, with Shiva at his side.
Kasaki stared at the herb garden she had begun to plant, the herbs which would have flourished within snowfall, yet they were gone. She thought of her previous herb garden, her herbs stolen, her garden set on fire, and now when she had finally moved to Paragon’s Rest of all places…
‘Paragon’s Rest too?’
Percy made his way to the longhouse, which was all but gone. There was still a quarter of it, but it was in pieces, so much of it lost in the air as ash. As he walked to one side, he opened the box, finding his clothing, the kind that had become far too baggy, all burnt and almost completely ash, and he reached down to the melted rubber that was once his trainers. He brushed a thumb along the thick rubber. He covered his eyes, feeling the wetness of his eyes, for though he may have hated his first life, a man’s memories shouldn’t be erased so easily.
“Mother was terrible at hiding,” Shiva admitted. “She would often hide under the blankets whenever we played our games. I knew it was because she wanted us to find her.”
“Us?”
“My younger sister. Nina.”
Percy tilted his head, his wet eyes full of confusion. “You've never mentioned you had a sister.”
“Father had to kill her too.”
Percy pulled back slightly, sitting down as he stared up at Shiva, who stared at the ash.
“Father has never spoken the tale, but he said, after what they did to my mother and sister, he had to kill them with his own hands.”
Percy stared at him in shock. “I'm sorry.”
“Our rage continues to simmer, but there will come a day. It will be soon. I know it. I feel it. Even if I did not feel this way, I must make it true. I must make it into a reality.”
Percy hadn’t heard Shiva ever speak in such a way. So calm, collected, the kind of rage that was more vicious than the loud rage Kahn had displayed earlier.
Shiva’s eyes remained focused on the ash, the young man recalling the tiny form he had left behind when he and his father went to hunt.
CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT
“What’s this? You’re sitting up all by yourself?” Percy gasped, returning from beginning to enchant a weapon.
“Boo!” Percival replied upon seeing his father, his eyes so full of light.
Percy’s heart shuddered lightly, still aching, though he smiled. “My boy! Aren’t you so amazing?”
Percival squealed as his father picked him up, the pair embracing one another, Percy rubbing his son’s back gently, planting a firm kiss on his son’s cheek. Percival blew a raspberry and hid his face into his father’s chest, squealing with joy.
‘Seriously, how can my son be so cute?’
The pair bathed together later in the evening, with his son splashing all around, while Percy gently soaped him up, and once he was done, he pat his son dry with a towel, drying it off with ease, before applying the ointments the villagers had handed to him. In the evening, Percy let his son rest on his chest, the boy pushing himself up to see his father, squealing with delight.
“I have to go soon…”
“Dah!” the boy replied.
“That’s right. Your old man can’t let Shiva run off all alone. He’s helped me so much, and so has the entire village, so… I’ve got to help them too, do you understand?”
“Yah!”
“I knew you would!” Percy brushed the boy’s cheek, causing him to squeal once more. He leaned in to kiss his son’s forehead, causing the boy to cackle. “I love you.”
“Boo!” The boy replied, feeling the warmth of his father’s affection.
“Don’t worry, we won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Oo!”
Percy smiled, leaning in to kiss his son’s ear gently. “You’ve grown so big, my little Percival…”
The pair cuddled with one another, before Percy finally let the boy sleep. He noted his son’s gums were beginning to turn white, meaning he was beginning to teeth. It had taken quite some time, he thought, since Maya’s teeth were already peeking out.
It was towards the end of the week when it happened.
“What?” Percy asked, raising his brows in surprise. ‘They’re here again?’
“This time it seems they have brought more, two armies,” Shiva said.
‘What did he say? The Steel Bears of Kastar are powerful, and the Crimson Flower Swords, apparently they’re an elite unit too?’
“It is a true war now,” Shiva said, before noting the surge of villagers. So many had returned during the week, those who had been sent out.
‘It just had to be today, huh?’ Percy thought, since he had just finished enchanting, and wasn’t feeling in tip top shape.
The Chief had sent out word, for now they had to prepare for the upcoming threat, and the battle that would arrive at their doorstep.
While the various Chiefs, Marshals, and Shamans began to discuss the situation, as quickly as they could, another group also gathered together.
“Crimson Flower, how many years has it been?” the large woman asked, her steel armour more like a wall.
“You old bear, you haven’t retired yet?” the Crimson Flower replied, far more beautiful and lithe compared to her counterpart.
“Retire? Have you forgotten?” the old bear grinned, revealing the scars around her lips more prominently.
“For the sake of such fertile soil, I suppose I’ll have to work beside you.”
“You lot, you want this to be some kind of pretty garden, but the soil here needs to be used for the best kind of wheat!”
“The soil is best for herbs.”
“You can’t grow herbs on an empty stomach!” the woman half exclaimed, laughing hysterically.
Meanwhile, the bears remained to one side. “The hoity toity crimson flowers think they can steal our land from under us?”
“If they weren't so pretty to look at, I wouldn't have let them come!”
“Speaking of letting them come, you brought a good drink?”
“A nice one, why?”
“Share it so I can sit with a pretty flower!”
“What do I get in return?”
“I'll speak to another flower on your behalf.”
“Since we’re the best of friend, how can I not share them with you?” the bear said, patting his companion’s shoulder, the woman smirking.
“Those damn burly bears,” one of the women from the Crimson Flowers said.
“More muscle than brain.”
“If they weren't so ruggedly handsome, I would have plucked their eyes out already.”
“Although, the big one doesn't look too bad.”
“Too bad she has eyes for me.”
“Hmph! I'll accept the other one? Though, I’m not a fan of the way he’s looking at me.”
“Isn’t it because you’re so beautiful?”
“I suppose I’ll have to relent.”
A whistle pierced through the air, catching their attention.
“Seems we’ve caught a little rat?”
CHAPTER FIFTY NINE
‘Sal was caught?’ Percy’s heart trembled. He had begun to rest up for the evening, regaining his Mana, but news spread like wildfire towards him.
“Perhaps he’s just late?” Kahn asked, though his tone implied he didn’t believe his words.
“We need to go now!” Zal exclaimed, his face already pale. It was no doubt already too late, but if there was a chance to save him, he’d go alone if he had to.
“It’s too-,” one began.
“Everyone!” Kahn exclaimed, raising his fist. “Prepare to fight!”
Zal reached out to embrace Kahn, who was perhaps one of the few who could spur an undecided group to act.
“We’ll go send for warriors,” a few called out.
“It might be too late by then,” Kahn said, glancing around to the others around the village. There were at least fifty warriors, including some youngsters, however, there were also at least three Marshals, and another three who could swiftly join them, as well as three Chiefs. Then there was the group who had returned from the war, and Riva.
“We should go now, the rest can join us on the clean up,” Kahn said, and with that, he let out a holler, the others hollering in return as they quickly went to equip themselves more completely.
Percy stepped out, wearing his magical blade at his side, while he rushed towards Shiva, quickly whispering something in his ear. Shiva nodded, rushing away to speak with the Chief, while the young man donned his shield, feeling the thundering in his heart. ‘It’s time!’
“Boo!” Percival called, grasping at his father’s collar.
“Listen to me, Percival.” Percy planted a kiss on his son’s cheek. “Daddy needs to go for a bit, but he’ll be back soon, alright?”
“Gah gah!”
“I want you to know that I love you very much.” Percy held his son close, feeling the chill within his stomach, his eyes shut tight, refusing to grow wet. “Mo’An, I’ll leave him to you.”
“Of course,” the Mo’An replied, bowing her head, as Percy stepped out. He went to go see Maya, finding Shiva there with his glaive, as well as Riva, who wielded a similar glaive.
“Can I even ask you not to trouble your mother while we’re gone?” Percy joked.
“Kekeke!” The little baby replied, with such a cheeky sparkle within her eyes.
“Do not act so dower,” Layla said. “If you end up dying, I’ll kill you.”
Percy coughed, trying not to laugh. “Understood.”
“You, if you die, I’ll drag you out from the underworld,” Layla warned her husband.
“Hah! I will be too swift for you to catch me!” Shiva laughed, though his eyes remained strained.
It wasn’t long until the group of fifty began to charge out of the village, heading towards the way Sal had gone, and also where the other scouts had spotted signs of life, and had calculated the foe’s camp.
The woman yawned, her yawn silenced by a dagger across the throat, her lifeless body gently brought to the earth, as the Malin continued to shift almost silently through the forest, for few wore armour, and even in the dim light of evening, they could see the world as bright as day.
However, a perceptive watcher blew a horn, alerting the soldiers to the appearance of the Malin, and as the Malin burst onto the scene, they were already half prepared. As they charged forward, Percy readying himself, his breath hitched into throat, the young man almost freezing in place.
Sal had been hung against a tree from his arms, and as he swung, so did his innards. Through gritted teeth, he grinned at the Engwyn in front of him, and hearing the horn, he laughed louder, which caused him to wince in greater pain. His eyes then darted up, seeing the rushing of the Malin as they charged towards him, clashing with the Malin along the way.
‘What a good day to die,’ Sal thought, the young man smiling as an arrow struck through his throat.
Percy turned, his entire body almost frozen, as Shiva, with wet eyes, raised his wife’s bow and had loosened an arrow. Zal stood beside him, with a bow in hand, but he had been unable to loosen his arrow, but with Shiva shooting first, he plucked up the courage, a pained cough escaping his lungs.
Two more arrows struck the Malin, making sure he could go with the best last sight a Malin could see.
The roars of the Malin drowned out even Percy’s thoughts.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Indeed, the Bears of Kastar and the Crimson Flowers were elite soldiers, but how could one compare them to the Malin, whose way of life was to survive?
Kahn clashed with a figure with his greatsword, leading the Malin forward, his blade exploding with lightning as he fought. Shiva also charged forward, swinging his glaive wildly, threatening to tear a Crimson Flower in half.
Percy’s heart ached, the young man frozen in place, his hand upon the hilt of his blade, but he stared forward, towards the mass of death before him.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 11 (6)
Miss!
Percy held out his hand, but as he formed the words of magic through all the shouting and screaming and ringing of steel, all he could think about was Sal.
‘I don’t understand it completely, but the way you look at your son…’ Sal had said. ‘It’s inspiring?’
‘You’ll understand once you have your own child, even if it make take a few years, you’ll definitely understand.’
‘I will probably understand quickly, since I’m the handsome and the smart one,’ Sal had joked.
The Engwyn at the back were still trying to prepare themselves, having not expecting so many Malin to assault them so swiftly in the evening, the fires illuminating the world around them, illuminating the brutal slaughter for them.
“Do not fall back! Kill the beasts!” shouted an older woman in her fifties or so, the woman wielding a large greatblade, cutting down a Malin in front of her.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 11 (6)
Hit!
1D10 + 5 = 15 (10)
15 damage!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 14 (9)
Miss!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 23 (18)
Hit!
1D10 + 5 = 12 (7)
12 damage!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 17 (12)
Hit!
1D10 + 5 = 6 (1)
6 damage!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 11 (6)
Miss!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 7 (2)
Miss!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 6 (1)
Critical Miss!
Percy stepped forward, surrounding by the Malin, though now behind them as the Malin clashed with the soldiers. Though they were outnumbered, somehow, they were managing to force the Engwyn back. There were many greater warriors within the Malin, though they were almost matched by the likes of the various older soldiers within the Engwyn’s employ.
‘The northerners make the best cheese,’ Sal had said. ‘I will leave later in the season to procure some.’
‘It must be that good if you’re giving up scouting,’ Percy had joked.
‘It is that good,’ Sal said seriously.
It had been a few hours ago when they had that conversation.
Wisdom Save
D20 + 2 = 13 (11)
Percy’s throat constricted, gasping for air as the fighting around him continue, and he held up both fingers, willing his voice.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 13 (8)
Miss!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 6 (1)
Critical Miss!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 13 (8)
Miss!
An arrow barely missed him, almost nicking his cheek, the young man turning his head towards the archer, a Crimson Flower who was trying to gather herself. He held up his fingers towards her.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 21 (16)
Hit!
1D10 + 5 = 14 (9)
14 damage!
As she fell to the earth, Percy didn’t even acknowledge the fact he had killed another soldier, having not even realised she wasn’t the first person he had killed.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 10 (5)
Miss!
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 13 (8)
Miss!
Percy turned, finding the shadow of a blade.
Temporary Health: 5 -> 0
Health: 18 -> 7
He barely managed to lift his shield, but as he raised it, the sword dented it, and struck so heavily, Percy fell, his shield scraping on the earth at his side.
“What a vile witch!” the old bear snarled, raising her blade up above her. “To think a traitor like you would dare to attack us!”
The old bear’s rage overwhelmed her, for he had managed to slay a few of her warriors with his magic, but she was not so enraged that she would allow someone to catch her while she was distracted.
A giant glaive forced her backwards, as the large Malin, with the face of a tiger snarled. “Out of my way!”
Percy wasn’t going to make Riva say it twice, the fear of the old man causing him to roll around, and he pulled away.
Action: Disengage
Percy drew backwards, holding up his shield as the old bear was forced back, the woman surprised someone could beat her so viciously, the flames of the glaive too much. The woman noted just how terribly these wicked savages were, forcing them back, killing so many of their warriors.
“Bears! Back!” the old woman roared, engaging the warrior in front of her, who was a vicious beast, able to force her away, however, she could not step back even as injured as she was, for she needed to cover her warrior’s retreat. ‘How is he so strong?’
As Riva threatened to pin her down, a silvered blade, a rapier, almost took the old man’s eye as he pulled back, the blade instead cutting across his cheek.
“Old bear, I would prefer it if you didn’t die,” the eponymous Crimson Flower said.
“Thank-,”
The Crimson Flower turned, noting the woman’s face had been caved in, and her eyes managed to barely catch the sight of a young man holding out two fingers.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 21 (16)
Hit!
1D10 + 5 = 8 (3)
8 damage!
2025-09-28 11:00:12 +0000 UTC
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Kitool noted the way the half elf was avoiding her gaze, and within that instant, she realised the half elf had spent more money after saying he would be more careful. Her eyes met Laygak’s for a moment, and the young man shrugged his shoulders, asking for forgiveness on the half elf’s behalf. However, the half elf earned most of the business’ wealth all by himself, so it was awkward to try and moderate him. He had yet to go too far, so she allowed it to slide.
‘How many spears and daggers did he buy?’ John thought, the half elf staring down at them, holding the same thoughts as John.
‘I guess I’ll gift the daggers to the children, the businessfolk can use the spears?’ Adam then blinked. ‘Wait. Why did I buy all these daggers and spears when I could have just bought all the ore and then crafted them myself?’
Dunes raised a brow, surprised the half elf regretted buying so many items, for that was so unlike Adam. ‘…’
“Ahm,” Adam called, offering a firesteel spear to the Lion King.
“I do not require it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am certain.”
“Alright, well, if there is anything you require, let me know, otherwise what will they say about me?” Adam approached Zabir next, holding out the spear. “Ahm, will you refuse me too?”
Zabir could see the way the half elf was plotting something within his mind, the old man doing his best not to burst into laughter at his own assumptions. “Since my nephew has gifted me a spear, how can I refuse?”
“That’s more like it!” The half elf eagerly handed the old man the firesteel spear. “Ahm, if there’s anything else you need, let me know!”
Zabir chuckled, accepting the spear within his hand. He clasped it tight, eyeing up the spear tip, which was forged of firesteel. When he was a young man, this was but a dream, but as he grew older, and after earning the title of Mulazim, he was able to wield such fine spears.
The group remained within the town for the next few day, each going about their business, spending silvers and gold. Maharan liked to walk around the town, though he spotted quite a few giving him looks, noting his robes were of a different style, more eastward, though few bothered him about him due to the presence of the two giant walls, one of whom was an Iyrman, the other who should have been an Iyrman, and the last was an older Iyrman woman who wielded a bow so expertly.
“What’s with all these newcomers wielding such fine weapons?” one asked another.
“I don’t know,” their companion replied. “They say a bunch of Iyrmen have come into town, all part of the same group.”
“Are they invading us?”
“Why would they invade us?”
“I don’t know…”
“Even if they’re a bunch of death cultists, they’ve always been polite, eh?”
“Aye, you’re right about that much at least.”
“Still…”
“Aye.”
“Shukhur, at least every time they come they spend piles of gold.”
The other smiled, raising their cup of pink tea, sipping it with joy within their heart. It wasn’t as though they raised the prices too high for the Iyrmen, but they still made a pretty sum from them, and was there a time the town was ever safer?
One particular fellow was ecstatic, for a Ka of Black Mountain had arrived within his shop and had bought a kahil oven, and had tipped the fellow quite a few beht.
“What’s this?” Adam asked as Ka Anka returned.
“This is a kahil oven,” she said. “You’ll see how good it is once we are on the road.”
‘Oh?’ Adam raised his brow, wondering what it would cook considering it had a giant hole around the base. ‘Alright…’
Those within the town also noted the presence of a particular fellow, the kind with azure scales and large horns, as he made his way around the town, seeing if he couldn’t spot anything he wanted. He found a few weapons that seemed acceptable enough, but nothing that inspired his heart.
“Mister Bael, look,” the girl said, pointing to…
Bael was surprised to see the girl wasn’t interested in the fruit nearby, but rather, she pointed towards a woman who wore such beautiful attire, white robes and a white scarf, the scarf covered in golden thread. It was the pair of daggers at her side, however, which interested the girl, for the steel was shown to the world, and it was that kind of steel, the kind that glittered beautifully under the sun.
“Do you wish to play with the daggers?” Bael asked.
“Yes!”
Bael approached the young woman, before sensing something emanating from her. He raised his brows, for once surprised by a mortal, for there the sensation was almost familiar to him. As he stared at the woman, she noticed his eyes, and the woman, in her thirties or so, smiled politely, though there was a sense of discomfort, for sometimes gaining the attention of a half dragon led to ruin.
“The girl would like to play with your daggers,” Bael said simply.
“Of course, my Lord,” the young woman replied with the greatest of respect.
“Just call me Bael,” Bael replied with a hint of annoyance.
The young woman unlatched the daggers and offered them to the girl who instantly tried to grab them by the blade, though the Aswadian woman pulled them back, before turning them so the girl could clasp them by the handle. As Kizwolima did, she tried to grab the scabbards, which revealed much of the dagger to the world, but the woman quickly used a finger against the girl’s palm.
“Allow this aunty to help you,” the woman said, slowly undoing the scabbard before wagging her finger. “Do not touch the edge, okay? It hurts.”
“Do not touch the edge, it will hurt,” Bael informed the girl.
“I know!” Kizwolima replied though she was certainly going to grab the edge if she hadn’t been told.
Bael’s eyes then darted to the side, where he found an older man staring at him. From the way he was dressed, and the medallion at his chest, Bael assumed he was a Mulazim, but not the kind that rivalled Zabir, but a greater warrior, perhaps even so far as a Master. He could smell that he was related to the young woman, but he did not possess that familiar scent. ‘So it was her mother?’
The little girl held onto the blade with both hands, admiring the way the blade glittered, before holding it up to Bael. “Mister Bael, look!”
Bael held out his hand and Kizwolima placed it on his hand, telling him to be careful with it since it was so sharp, causing him to blink, before clasping the handle. He felt its balance within his hand, before holding it out to the young woman, who plucked it from his hands gently.
“Kizwolima, return the dagger,” Bael said.
“Okay…” The girl passed the dagger back shyly.
Bael eyed up the daggers once more. They were not magical, but they were made of stormsteel, and more importantly perhaps, were Masterwork. Since the girl had become so enchanted by them…
“Where is your mother?” Bael asked.
“Mother passed away.”
“Hmm…” Bael stared at the young woman. “I would like to gift the child those daggers. I will reward you.”
The young woman was unsure, however it was a half dragon, who was more than likely a dragon, asking. He was also a blue dragon, so perhaps related to the nightmare known as Forgryn. “As you say, Kal Bael.”
“Just Bael,” Bael replied, annoyed.
“I do not know where you think you are now-,” the heavily armoured man said, approaching, only to stop as Kitool stepped forward, Brittany sheepishly following.
“What are you doing?” Kitool asked the half dragon.
“I wish to procure the daggers, and will reward her for doing so.”
“What kind of reward?”
Bael raised a brow. “I do not impose upon matters of the Iyr, so the Iyr should not impose upon matters of my family.”
Hearing him speak so formally, Kitool remained silent, for this matter must have been that important to Bael. She bowed her head.
“Young lady, consider it Fate we have met, and whether you are able to grasp fortune is up to you,” Bael stated.
The young woman sat a little taller. “I will!”
Bael then paused. He glanced back towards the young woman, checking to see whether Adam would kill him first, before confirming he, probably, wouldn’t. “I will continue to peruse the market, so you may meet me at the inn in the evening.”
“As you say.”
Brittany glanced between Bael and the woman, curious as to their relationship. ‘Family matters?’
“What was that about?” the Mulazim asked, placing a hand upon his daughter’s shoulder.
“I think he knew mother.”
The Mulazim narrowed his eyes, and as evening fell, he surrounded the inn with his guards, who waited to see what would happen.
“Mork, come with me,” Bael said, leading the young woman elsewhere.
“Where are you going?” Adam asked.
“I have to reward the woman.”
“How are you going to reward her?”
“It is up to her whether she is able to accept the reward.”
“If you don’t want me to beat you up, answer my question,” Adam replied, letting out a huff.
“I will awaken her latent abilities.”
“How?”
“With my lightning.”
‘I guess he needs Mork because he’s got an affinity to lightning too?’ Adam thought. “Alright, but what will people say if two men take a beautiful Aswadian woman away? Yasha, keep an eye on them, and if they do anything inappropriate, tell me and I’ll beat them both up!”
“Do you not trust me?” Bael asked.
“It’s not about whether I trust you, but how it looks to people on the outside, and since you’re around us, we’ll get painted with slander if you do something weird.”
“It is not…” Bael paused. “It is a little weird.”
“Alright,” Adam said, waving his hand to dismiss them. It wasn’t long later when he heard the crackle of lightning and the rumble of thunder shake through the inn, as well as the screaming which fell silent soon after. The half elf charged through the inn, followed closely behind by Jurot and Kitool.
There he found a baffled pair, as well as Bael standing above a charred body of a dead young Aswadian.
“Bael! What the fuck!”
2025-09-27 17:00:06 +0000 UTC
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CAUTION:
This is a very rough draft of the first third or so of the novel, and is not entirely indicative of the quality you might expect of the edited draft.
You can expect the edited draft on the 31st of August in 2025.
Thank you for reading and if you wish to comment your thoughts please use the appropriate Patreon post.
-
FORTY ONE
‘What the fuck?’ Percy thought as the bushes nearby stood up and began to walk towards them.
“Oh?” Sal said, far too excitedly, knocking his arrow. “Percival, watch this!”
The boy snuggled up to the Mo’An’s bossom as the woman held him, his father standing ahead, preparing his magic. The arrow slipped past the trio, striking one of the bushes, while Kal, whose skin peeled from the whip from a spiked branch, cut the creature in half with his magical greatblade, flexing his muscles.
Zal’s thin blade cut through the same bush his brother had shot, his magic amplifying his blade, exploding with magical might, the same as his brother’s, while Shiva and Rayna slew the last.
Trick: Eldritch Blast
D20 + 5 = 8 (3)
Miss!
Percy narrowed his eyes, his companions managing to deal with the last of the bushes, the villager keeping an eye out from behind.
Victory!
XP Gained: +60
XP: 340 -> 400
“I swear I’m much better normally,” Percy said, while his son stared up at him for a moment, ebfore the boy smiled and squealed. “What do you mean? I would never lie to you!”
The boy giggled and laughed, all the while Percy tried to assure his son.
“Just you watch, I’ll definitely show you!” Percy stated, as though tempting Fate.
Unfortunately for him, or perhaps fortunately, they arrived safely at the large lake fortress. Percy noted the large number of Angyr around, not the few who stood off in one corner, but the babes, each roughly the same size as Daniel, though many with various different appearances.
They settled themselves within one of the many cabins, with some of the townsfolk hanging about, their eyes glued to the Angyr. The Angyr were also glaring towards that particular cabin, first eyeing up the Angyr child, but then their eyes met with the large figure whose eyes remained fixated upon them.
“Ah, it is he, the Little Chieftain boy,” one of the Angyr said, her hair golden, her eyes sparkling like the rays of the sun. She was adorned in breastplate, a long cape flowing down from her shoulders, a symbol of the sun emblazened upon her breastplate. A blade of, what seemed to be silver, hung at her side.
“You may call him so, but do not forget, sister, he almost killed our little one,” the other said, smirking towards their younger companion.
The third Angyr, of five, narrowed his eyes, noting the looks of the other Angyr, those with similar hair to his own, almost red, their eyes also sparkling like flames. ‘Hmph!’
Though it had turned to evening, with Percy being the last to arrive, they could finally settle the matter here and there.
The eldest of the Angyr stepped forward, the flames flickering off of her beautiful armour, the kind that made even the half dragons nearby envious. She stood tall and proud, as one might have expected of her, for she was born of the Divine Lords.
“You possess children of the Divine Lords,” the woman said, speaking clearly, for all to understand she was not here to jest. “We are keepers of such divine treasures. You have no right to hold them within your possession.”
Elder Kama inhaled deeply, sitting up a little taller from the young woman’s words. As she did, she noted the look from the Captain, who shook her head lightly, and the Supreme Elder narrowed her eyes. “If you wish for the children within their possessions, you must convince those who have adopted the divine treasures to surrender their children.”
“We promise a blessing, fine treasures, piles of silver and gold, and fine weapons and armoured to each who return the children to we, who are rightfully their family.”
The Malin around glanced between one another, their ears twitching upon the offer, each turning back to consider their words.
“Do you say you will grant us all of such, or one or two?” a Malin asked, an older man, in his venerable age asking a wise question.
“All of such for each child,” the Angyr promised.
The Malin rushed to whisper between one another, for such an offer was a truly grand offer. One or two of such was enough to surrender the children, but all? They imagined the silver and gold wouldn’t be much, but everything else, from the blessings to the equipment would be great, certainly.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” Percy whispered to Shiva. “I’m not giving up my son.”
“You must speak your refusal.”
“Huh,” Percy almost scoffed.
“Speak, stranger,” an Angyr called, the same who glared towards Kahn.
“You’ve come to the wrong,” Percy said. “I’m not giving up my son.”
“Name your price.”
“He’s not for sale, so there is no price,” Percy stated firmly.
“You must surrender the child.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You are making a mistake, boy.”
“What mistake is that?” Kahn asked, stepping forward, crossing his arms.
The Angyr narrowed his eyes towards Kahn. “We have some qualms, but this matter is above us. You must make him understand.”
“It is you who needs to understand.”
“He has sworn the oaths of fatherhood. It is not so easy to give up.”
“Let’s be clear,” Percy began. “This isn’t about any oath. This isn’t about anything other than this is Percival, my son. You could offer me the entire world, and I would decline, because my son is not for sale. That is the end of discussion.”
“What is this ridiculous farce?” the Angyr called, eyes darting towards Kama.
FORTY TWO
Percy glared at the Angyr who dared to covet his son, each now focused upon him, the Malin silent as they watched the scene play before them.
“Lady Kama, you promised to assist in this matter,” the older Angyr said, the leader, whose golden hair fell to her shoulders.
Kama narrowed her eyes once more, but it wasn’t a good idea to trouble the Angyr for no reason, especially since they were currently preparing to face against the Engwyn proper. “Will you not surrender the boy?”
“If you’re going to ask a father to give up his son, you should ask properly,” Percy dared to reply, even to Lady Kama, while his heart began to beat quickly at the blatant disrespect he was showing, his cheeks flushing crimson with annoyance.
“I am not asking you to give him up, but if you will.”
“He’s not the boy,” Percy stated firmly. “He’s my son.”
Kama inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a long moment. She peeked towards the Angyr, the Malin nearby, and finally the fool of a father. “I promised to assist them.”
“You made my swear a vow of fatherhood, but now you want to go back on your word and mine because you want to dance to the tune of the strangers who set fire to your people’s homes?” Percy raised his brow, turning to face Shiva. “I thought she was your Supreme Elder.”
Shiva blinked, wondering why his friend was trying to get himself killed. However…
“Percy is right,” Shiva said, noting the horrid looks upon the faces of the Malin, some in anger, some in shock, others doing their absolute best not to burst out in laughter.
“Percy?” Kama asked, noting the boy’s name had also changed.
“Percy is our Uldar, Elder Kama,” Shiva said, crossing his arms too. “He is a friend to we from Paragon’s Rest!”
“His son is our son,” Sal said, reaching out to tickle the boy’s cheek. “What an adorable son he is.”
“Hold on, he can be your nephew, but he’s my son,” Percy joked, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking. To hear the words from Sal’s lips, the shock swirled within his gut, tempered by the relief of his words.
“Even you, Elder Kama, cannot force us to give up our children,” Kahn said, for though others could speak the same, the young man, who would become Chief, would not allow even the Supreme Elder to infringe upon their rights.
Kama inhaled deeply once more, feeling the awkwardness rise within the air, as well as the annoyance within her heart, for this entire matter was so troublesome. She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes, closing them as she fell deep into thought. The seconds passed, turning to a minute.
“Great Kama!” the eldest Angyr woman finally exclaimed, breaking through the silence, her own eyes narrowed. “Is this your response?”
“Consider it reparations, for your misbehaviour against their village,” Kama said, holding Kahn’s gaze for a moment, the young man bowing his head and relaxing.
“This is greater than just a building, or a village, burning down,” the woman said, her voice firm as steel. “This is a matter of that is beyond the scope of even our wills, the will of the Divine Lords cannot be so easily parried.”
Kama inhaled the water, steam pouring out from her shell, and she stood, emerging from the water wholly, and suddenly the atmosphere shifted, no longer a tension from the Angyr, but a tension from the Supreme Elder. “No more. Your time here is done, Angyr.”
“You have no conception of the bounds of your mistake, Great Kama,” the young woman stated, narrowing her eyes towards the Supreme Elder.
Kama narrowed her eyes once more, almost closing them, but the pair remained glaring between one another. “You are right. It was my mistake in offering you such mercies after your transgressions. No. You may take none of the babes, for they are of our family, not yours. You may leave, and take your greed and insolence with you.”
“You would refuse our dealings?”
“Do you take me a conjurer of feeble trickery?” Kama roared, the steam rising from the lake around her, her voice so harsh, causing even the air before her to tremble. “Warriors! To arms!”
Percy held his son’s ears, thinking the Great Elder would have shouted much louder, while the boy squirmed, before noting his father’s face. He smiled, mirroring his father’s face, not noting the awkwardness upon his face.
The Angyr stepped backwards, the trio reaching for their blades, only to stop as the woman raised a hand towards them. The Malin had reached for their weapons, but it was Kama’s personal guards who had stepped closer, reaching for their own blades, as well as a handful of the Malin about, including a particular group.
Kahn held the Angyr’s eyes, claiming that particular one as his own, while Sal’s fingers twitched towards a bow, and Rayna rolled her shoulders. Zal stood near the babe, considering the opinion that Sal should have stepped back to watch over the babe, not him.
“We shall leave,” the woman said, and with that, she turned upon her heel and stormed out, without a doubt as to their safe retreat, for Kama would dare not to attack them like this.
As they marched out, the woman’s fury burned within her head. “Do not worry. We will gain our vengeance, one way or another.”
The other Angyr were glad she had been assigned, since she was so favoured that even if they failed so spectacularly, they would only receive harsh punishments, not those which were severe.
FORTY THREE
“You have taken your role seriously,” Elder Kama said, her voice soft and gentle, as gentle as it could be considering she was a giant dragon turtle, while Percival glanced towards her, and then away, clutching his father’s collar.
“Yeah, well, that’s what it means to be a father,” Percy replied, as though it were truly that simple.
“You may stop that now, young man.”
“What?”
“You do not need to behave so… fatherly.”
Percy furrowed his brows in confusion, looking down at his son, who tilted his head to look up into his eyes, the boy sucking his hand shyly, smiling against it. Percy leaned down to nuzzle his son’s ear, kissing his cheek. “Supreme Elder, come on…”
“I thought it was not an act, but to see it so…” Kama eyed up the boy, noting the way the boy clung to his own father. “My deepest apologies. I did know know the depths of your adoration. I did not mean to undermine your oaths, young man.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t blame you, since you don’t have an adorable son like you, isn’t that right, Percival?” Percy leaned in to kiss the boy’s forehead, causing the boy to squirm and smile within his arms.
‘How are you settling within this life of yours?’ Kama asked, though she spoke no words, the words entering Percy’s mind.
“Fine enough,” Percy admitted. “Now that I have Tricks, I can warm up a bath right away, so I don’t feel quite so bad.”
“A bath?” Kama asked.
“Yeah. Usually, you know, the water is cold, it takes forever to boil water, but with that trick, Tricks, it’s easy, plus with how useful it is in general, better than even the technology we had in some ways, it’s useful. I don’t even have to clean up my boy, I just magic it away for the most part.”
The dragon turtle let out a hum of understanding, at least feining so. ‘You are able to enchant now?’
“That’s right.”
‘An alchemist, an enchanter, you possess a great many abilities.’
“Yeah, it is what it is.” Percy smirked slightly, reaching down to ruffle his son’s head. “Once Percival’s all grown, you’ll have two of each, and hopefully at that time I’ll be more knowledgeable.”
‘What can you enchant now?’
“Fire, storms,” Percy whispered. “Oh, actually Elder Kama, may we speak privately?”
Once they were within the tunnel, Percy explained his new pill, as well as the enchantments he could enchant more thoroughly.
“How many of such pills could you form within a week?”
“Right now, it’s about twenty, a little less actually, but soon I’ll be able to consistently make two a day,” Percy assured.
Kama thought of the materials required, and how much he could charge for each of the pills if they were for sale. “Please make twenty of each, and we shall pay you five gold for each, and consider them as part of your fortune to us.”
“Sure,” Percy replied, knowing he was getting utterly ripped off, but he appreciated their protection, as well as the fact that she had protected him well thus far, and most importantly, without her he wouldn’t have become a father. Now if only she helped him become a husband…
“Once you have completed the pills, I will send over weapons for you to enchant, and I will reward you,” Kama said.
“You’ll reward me?”
“As you enchant the weapons, I will consider a fine reward,” Kama assured. “I may pay you in gold, or I may reward you with something greater.”
“Alright,” he replied, smiling.
She was glad he was so eager to assist them. ‘With such pills, we could…’
Percy was asked to remain for the rest of the week, in which he created a few pills for the Elder, the Flaming Dance Pills, before continuing on.
‘I guess there’s no rest for the wicked,’ he thought, though he was laying in bed that evening, staring up at the ceiling. His son was fast asleep,t he boy tired from all the travel, as well as from being so adorable. Percy stared at the ceiling, which was entirely grey, but he could see it as though it were day thanks to the magical lantern beside him. ‘Alchemy and enchanting. I should be alright for the rest of my life as long as I have a little bit of strength. I need to hit Level Five before I think about any form of freedom.’
Except, was that what he wanted?
As he awoke the next morning, he worked out lightly, before bathing. He spotted one of the half dragons, the woman nodding her head towards him, causing him to return a nod. Once he was ready to work, he checked on his son, who was still snoozing, and stepped out to the cabin, beginning his work.
“You know,” he said at dinner, cutting into the fish. “I’ve been noticing a lot of looks my way.”
“Everyone is talking about you,” Shiva admitted.
“They are?”
“Do you know how many dare to speak up against the Engwyn?”
“It’s not just that,” Sal said, peeling an apple with his small knife with ease. “Some of them recall you speaking out against Lord Asura too.”
“Who?”
The pair stared at the fellow, who blinked, recalling the angelic fellow. “Ah, right, him.”
“They say you have earned the title of Uldar.”
Percy flushed slightly, smiling. “Well, I guess…”
Sal chuckled, reaching over to pat his back. “Are you still shy?”
“I’ve always been a little shy…”
As the week passed by, Percy finished making the pills, and upon handing over the pills. ‘Should I be a little cheeky?’
“What is it?” Kama asked, noting the look on his face.
“I just have a question, Elder Kama.”
FORTY FOUR
Percy sighed, but was glad she wasn’t too offended even though she ultimately refused. ‘I could have farmed so much XP with her…’
He eyed up the sword she had offered him, a fine blade, the kind that could be enchanted with a fine enchantment. It was long, slightly thinner than a typical blade, engraved with a symbol of some kind towards the base, the steel patterned with waves. ‘Damn, this is a really nice sword.’
Percy’s eyes then fell onto the gem dust the Elder had gifted to him too, far more than he expected, enough to enchant himself a blade. ‘She basically paid me twice as much?’
“Did the Supreme Elder gift you that blade?” Shiva asked.
“Yeah, she did,” Percy said as he cleaned the blade with a cloth.
“It is a fine blade, treated with her breath,” Shiva said, leaning in towards it. “It is not as finely crafted as Masterwork, but it is sturdier than a typical blade due to the treatment.”
“Her breath?” Percy stared down at the sword, noting the wave patterns once more. ‘Ah? That’s pretty cool!’
“Will you enchant it upon our return?”
“Probably. What do you think, fire, thunder, or lightning?”
Shiva thought for a moment. “Lightning.”
“Everyone’s got lightning, but then again, if we’re going to spend more time in Azarai, fire isn’t going to be that helpful, and there’s something weird about thunder, so I might have to go lightning…”
Shiva nodded, sipping a small cup of wine, considering Percy’s thoughts.
‘Should I enchant it with flat damage? It’s more consistent, though, with a dice the average is a little higher, especially with Critical Hits.’
Percy rested during the last day of the month. He had half expected a festival, only to remember it was the eighth month and not the ninth, the rain reminding him. He held his son against his chest as the gentle rain fell upon the land, the sound of the rain striking the earth.
“You hear that? It’s a familiar sound to your old man. The world isn’t quite as grey, though.” Percy brushed his son’s hair gently. “You’re going to have to get used to it.”
Sal shot a hundred arrows in the morning, then in the afternoon, and finally in the evening.
“Just three hundred today?” Zal joked.
“I just want to relax today,” Sal admitted. “Do you think I could ask for some lightsilver?”
“Do you think lightsilver grows on trees?”
Sal rolled his eyes, threatening to poke his brother with an arrow.
“Do you wish to try it?” Zal asked.
“Stay sitting down.”
“I’ll slap you so hard no one will know we are twins.”
“They will still know I am the handsome one.”
Zal rolled his eyes.
Meanwhile, Shiva enjoyed his time within the lake fortress, sparring with a half dragon, as well as talking with some of the fortressfolk. Kahn, too, spoke with the fortressfolk, who were more familiar with him, and Rayna too, who enjoyed her time wrestling and swimming.
As they made their way back home, they travelled through a different way, Sal leading the way, still assisted by the villagers. Along the way, Percy found a few herbs, but otherwise their journey back was uneventful.
Except for the caravan.
“Kahn, how do you do,” the Malin said, pulling along his cart, a handful of others also pulling their own carts.
“Din, well, as always, what of you?”
“Fortunate,” the man admitted, who wore a thick moustache that curled all the way up to his earlobes. “I just finished trading in Frune. Are you wishing to procure anything?”
“Let us see your wares.”
“Oh, what’s this?” Percy asked, noting the lantern, though it seemed not to be lit with fire, but held a magical orb within.
“A beautiful lantern that requires only magic to run,” Din replied. “I can part with it for fifty gold, for it requires greater magic to restore its light, though it lasts for an entire month.”
“What kind of greater magic.”
“They say equivalent to a Second Gate spell.”
“Oho? Well, well, well…” Percy rubbed his chin. “Can I see how it works?”
“You may,” the man said, allowing him to hold the lantern.
The lantern glowed all around gently, but as he turned the top of the lantern, he found that all four sides of the lantern shuttered, save for a fist sized hole that emphasised the light into a beam.
“Nice! How much? Fifty gold you said?”
“I did.”
“Ah, damn, why didn’t I bring more gold? Shiva, can I borrow some coin?”
“Din,” Kahn said, reaching into his pocket, and then he held out the tiny bone coin for Zal, who chipped the bone coin, handing it back to Kahn. Kahn then held it out to Din, who accepted it, bowing his head. “We’ll send you the gold in the next few weeks.”
Din smiled, bowing his head gently.
“These herbs too,” Sal said, closing the pouch. “I’ll chip a bone too.”
“You think I care if you chip a bone?” Din joked.
“Kahn,” Sal called, and Kahn nodded to Din, who relented. Sal handed the pouch to Percy.
“Who is this one?” Din asked.
“An Uldar,” Sal replied.
Din’s eyes fell to Percy’s wrists, though his wrist was covered by a sleeve. He managed to catch sight of the tattoo when Percy turned the top on the lantern, the young man smiling brightly, brighter than even the lantern. “Ah! You’re an Uldar, are ya?”
“That’s right.”
“You should have said so,” Din said, reaching out a hand, clasping Percy’s within his own, smiling warmly. “I thought it was weird Kahn was treating an Engwyn so nicely, I didn’t realise you weren’t one.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Shame.”
FORTY FIVE
“Who goes there!” called a voice, as a large figure appeared, the woman glaring at the group. She was tall, thickly built, and wore grey scaled armour that seemed to be made of stone, carrying a large staff, as well as a large blade which hung loosely upon her side, though her hand clutched something else within a tight fist.
“Kasaki Vir, it is a pleasure to see you again,” Kahn replied. “What brings you this way?”
“Herbs were stolen, and I heard a caravan passed by with my stolen herbs,” Kasaki said.
“These herbs?” Percy asked, reaching into his pack, before undoing the pouch to reveal the herbs within.
“Yes.”
“Ah,” Percy said, tying the pouch together. “Well, that is a shame.”
“What are you doing?” Kasaki asked, noting him holding out the pouch towards him.
“Returning the herbs to you,” Percy replied simply.
“…”
“I don’t want to make potions with stolen herbs, that’s bad mojo,” Percy stated, mostly disbelieving his words, but he wasn’t sure if there was some kind of magic that made it awkward to use them.
“You will return them?”
“Yeah.”
“What would you like in return?” Kasaki asked, her eyes darting towards Kahn and the others, before reaching out for the pouch.
“If I could make a request, if you could move closer to the village, that would be nice,” Percy said, though he wasn’t sure if she would accept.
“Which village?”
“Paragon’s Rest,” Kahn said.
“The home of the Hero?”
‘The what now?’
“Yes,” Kahn said, bowing his head.
“I will consider it.”
“Wonderful,” Percy said, clasping his hands together. “Shall we all return together then? It’s not far off now.”
“Din is no thief, he would not have stolen the herbs, so another may have stolen them and sold them to him,” Kahn said, making sure to clear the air.
“I am glad they are returned,” Kasaki replied simply.
“What’s this about a, what was the word she used, Hero?” Percy did not use the word hero, for it was a slightly different word, whereas the term Hero, with a capital, meant something deeper than just the typical word.
“Our village was founded because of the Hero,” Shiva said as they continued to make their way back home. “She slew the Shadow Lord Oskaros, who brought death to all those before him, but with her blade of light and righteous fury, the Hero slew the Shadow Lord and brought peace to the nearby lands.”
“What was her name?”
“She has no name.”
“You forgot her name?”
“It was her request,” Shiva stated proudly. “If her name was Talia, then we thank Talia, but if she has no name, then could not all become a hero, or if they wish for it, a Hero?”
“That sounds pretty cool,” Percy admitted.
“It is quite cool,” Shiva agreed. “She retired within Paragon’s Rest generations ago, and we buried her under the mound near our village.”
“Ah! So that’s what that mound is?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about all this?”
“You did not ask.”
“…” Percy blinked. “You know what? Fair enough.”
Kasaki eyed up the boy who the Mo’An carried, the boy snoozing away most of the day, but when he awoke, he cooed so tenderly and sweetly, especially when Percy held him close.
“Look at how well behaved you are!” Percy leaned in to plant a firm kiss on his son’s forehead. “Don’t worry, once we’re at Paragon’s Rest we can play again properly.”
“Da!”
‘Is that his son?’ Kasaki wondered.
They continued back to Paragon’s Rest, the world leaving them be upon the last leg of their journey. As purple painted the sky, Percy tucked his son into bed, the boy tuckered out from travelling for a few days. Percy was glad nothing had happened to his son.
“Hey, Shiva, could we head to the mound?”
“Okay,” Shiva replied, pinching his daughter’s sleeping nose, the girl smiling at her father, reaching out to him.
“We can wait a bit until after little Maya is asleep,” Percy said, chuckling.
The pair made their way to the mound, a simple mound that had no identifying markers. Percy stared at it for a long while, bowing his head gently towards it.
“Thank you so much for being such a hero they made a new word for how much of a hero you were so they called you a Hero.” Percy raised a hand, saluting the mound.
Shiva nodded his head, bowing his head towards the mound. “There is a tomb nearby, but we cannot go see to it, for it is not our role.”
“Tombs are pretty scary.”
“It is not the tomb, but the spirits which defend the tomb, which are scary.”
“Yeah. That sounds about right…”
FORTY SIX
“Oh, so now you want me to pick you up? Yesterday, when I came back, you were all crying, and complaining, but now suddenly you’re reaching out for me?” Percy asked, picking up the girl who held her hands up for him, the young man holding the girl to his chest. “Seriously…”
“Oo!” the babe called, revealing her pink smile to him.
“Fine, fine…” Percy reached down to poke her nose, causing her to stare up at him in shock, before she smiled even wider.
“Gagaga,” the girl called out to him, blinking up at him innocently.
“What? Really?”
“Oo!”
“That’s crazy. You’re telling me that…” Percy inhaled deeply and shook his head. “Now that’s something, huh?”
The girl stared up at him for a long while, before sleepily yawning, the girl wanting to return back to slumber after being awake for a short while. Percy took the chance to go work, wondering what he should make. As he made his way to work, he stopped. His body ached from the travel, and though he had some work to do, he hadn’t taken a proper day off in a while.
‘What should I do?’
“Are you taking a break?” Sal asked, spotting the young man walking through the village.
“I am,” Percy admitted.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to take a break,” Sal joked.
“Yeah, I realised I was still feeling the journey thus far.”
Sal hoisted himself up, brushing his knees. “I’ll take you to meet Chip.”
“Who?” Percy hadn’t heard of Chip before, but after Sal escorted him to the edge of the village, he realised why.
“Now, now, don’t complain,” Sal called out, brushing the small bird’s neck tenderly with a finger. “This is Percy. We left right after you hatched, so don’t blame me.”
“Teet teet.”
Sal sighed, before raising the bird to Percy. “Ignore him, he’s just annoyed he didn’t get to accompany us on our journey.”
“I suppose it’s the Angyr’s fault for causing us such trouble,” Percy said.
“Exactly! Did you hear that? It’s the Angyr’s fault, so don’t tweet at me.”
‘No wonder I’m so close with Sal,’ Percy thought. ‘We’re both idiots.’
“Hmph! Once Shiva masters his family’s path, we’ll see what kind of curses you’re spouting!” Sal grumbled, leaning in to allow the bird to gently peck at his cheek, before placing him upon his shoulder. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”
“Teet.”
Sal just sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead.
‘It’s not like I can say anything…’ He thought.
“What are you thinking of so deeply?” Sal asked.
“I’m just… grateful.”
Sal raised a brow.
“You know. Everyone helping me out. Welcoming me so much.”
“Is there a need to be so grateful?”
“Yeah. I mean, you all helped me out so much, so I should be grateful and do my best to repay you for your kindness?”
Sal pat Percy’s shoulder. “A man burdened by duty is too slow to fight.”
“Wouldn’t they be too quick to fight?”
“I just thought it sounded poetic.”
“Ah.”
Percival awoke much later, and after eating, his father held the boy close.
“Look, it’s mister Sal,” Percy cooed.
The boy smiled up towards Sal for a moment, but his eyes fell back to his father, the boy smiling even more brightly, squealing.
“You need to tell him he needs to have children too, what an unfilial son, right?”
Sal laughed. “I hear enough of it from my own father!”
“He’s right!”
Sal laughed more, causing the boy to smile and almost hack out a laugh himself. The Mo’An’s eyes fell upon the trio who spoke between one another, including the babe within their conversation, all the while she knitted more for the boy.
As Sal held the boy, he spoke a tale to the boy. “They say peaches were born from his tears. How? I’m not sure, it is an ancient magic, from ages past. My tears cannot sprout peaches, but the Shaman’s may?”
“Oo.”
“If you wish to learn… you should ask your father, I am sure he could somehow do so.”
‘Should I start working on my own sword tomorrow?’ Percy thought, having completely zoned out from the conversation. Though he could borrow the previous blade, he had returned it to the Chief, and it would have been best for someone else to use it. ‘I probably should so we have an additional sword.’
Zal arrived much later, having brought along some spices potatoes. “Say what you want about the dwarves, but since they brought potatoes to us, I can’t help but respect them.”
“I thought the halfzers brought potatoes?” Sal asked.
“Did they?” Zal furrowed his brows, for once the pair discussing the matter with seriousness.
It was later in the evening when Kahn met with Shiva, rubbing his forheead.
“What is wrong?” Shiva asked, as his daughter snoozed on his chest.
“I am plagued by nightmares…” Kahn closed his eyes. “I see burning within my dreams. It unnerves me so.
Hmm... Shiva listens to his worries.”
“Do you hear anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Hmm…” Shiva narrowed his eyes.
“My niece is growing well.”
“She often wishes to hold me, but sometimes she reaches for me, and when she sees Kayla, she reaches for her, even if she had escaped her arms…”
“Gia would do the same to me,” Kahn admitted.
“So it is from your side she inherits her troublesomeness.”
“I don’t want to hear that considering your father.”
Shiva smirked.
FORTY SEVEN
“Percy,” Shiva called at the end of the week, which Percy had decided to work through.
“Yeah?” Percy replied, before following the young man to one side, the pair resting on a log. It was later in the day, right as Percy had completed his enchanting.
“Kahn wishes to become a Great Chief,” Shiva informed.
“Right?”
“Do you know what it means?”
“I assume it’s some kind of Chief among Chiefs.”
Shiva bowed his head, though he remained quiet for a long moment, his eyes trailing across the trees around them, the very same which had grown during his own lifetime. “In the next twenty years, perhaps even as little as ten, we assume there shall be a great war. It is war of wars, a war to end all wars.”
“I’ve heard that before, twice.”
Shiva glanced towards him, but Percy shook his head, awkwardly smiling.
“Perhaps in my lifetime I will see it. I will see the land of my people return to us. To drive the outsiders from our homes, from our land, from our temples, from our fields, to recover our artefacts, our ways of life, our history. You said one day they will speak of me highly. I can see it already, Percy. That day, it will come soon.” Shiva smiled, patting Percy’s knee, as though he knew something others did not.
“In all fairness I wasn’t trying to think about anything like that for a while.”
“We wish to meet Elder Kama once more, to speak with her of our wishes, to speak of…” Shiva held out his arms wide, as though trying to swallow the world whole.
“Once I’m done with my enchanting, we can head out,” Percy offered, already feeling the ache already invade him.
It wasn’t long before Percy had finished enchanting the sword, using not the sword which had been gifted to him, but another, leaving his own behind.
“Don’t miss me too much, alright?” Percy ruffled his son’s hair, the boy clutching at his collar, trying to hug him tight. “Don’t be too worried either, your hair will go white, not that there’s anything wrong with you, you’d look so cute either way.”
“Hoo!” Percy pouted.
Zal let out a soft sigh, noting the way his brother was looking at him, and he placed a hand on Percival’s head. “Grow steadily, little Percival.”
“How are you the one with a child and worse at dealing with them?” Sal teased.
“You are always leaving so much.” Kayla poked Shiva’s cheek. “You should bring a gift.”
Shiva flushed slightly, embarrassed he hadn’t done much in that regard. He eyed her up for a moment, before smirking, noting how she had gained some weight. “Do not worry, I will bring many gifts.”
Kahn, Rayn, Zal, Sal, Shiva, and Percy all made their way out. The group were more than enough to deal with most trouble on the way out, and as they passed by the villages, Percy greeted a few familiar faces.
Somehow, they made their way to the lake fortress without much hassle, other than the falling rain that accompanied them on their way.
Kama could smell a familiar scent, taking her out of her thoughts. The Angyr had yet to retaliate from their ruined pride, and when it came to enemies, they couldn’t underestimate them, especially now that the Angyr tried to reclaim the babies.
Shiva and Kahn went to speak with Kama, until she finally called for Percy.
“How is your son since we last spoke?” Kama said.
‘Is that a joke?’ “He’s appropriately chubby, that is to say, he’s quite well.”
“Once you left, I considered a gift,” the Elder said, glad they had returned so swiftly to them.
“What is this?” Percy asked, accepting the small box from the drakken fellow, opening it to see a small marble of green.
“It is a poisonous pill for your son, Percival, when he reaches a year of age.”
“You want me to feed my son poison?” Percy asked.
“He is an Angyr of such. He should take it so he may gain the resilience that is expected of him.”
“It won’t hurt him?”
“A little, perhaps, but if you remain at his side, and prepare a health potion, he will remain safe.”
‘I’m not sure if that’s exactly what I should be doing as his father…’ “What is the pill called?”
“The One Hundred Poison Pill.”
Shiva raised his brows, swaying his head from side to side in approval. ‘Sounds fancy.’ “Thank you, Elder. Do you by any chance have anything for little Maya?”
‘Maya? She is…’ “I do not, this time, but I shall prepare a gift for her too.”
“Thank you, Elder Kama,” Percy bowed, and then returned back to his group.
The Elder had prepared a fine gift for her indeed, a lovely little dagger, the kind that Percy eyed up, imagining all the enchantments he would wish to place upon it in the future.
Upon their return they came across another Chief canditate, a rival for Kahn, though she was a tiny little fox compared to him, and another caravan, in which they procured a herb that caught Percy’s fancy.
‘I hope it wasn’t stolen,’ Percy thought.
As they continued on their return, Percy didn’t even need to be a trained hunter for his senses to scream towards him, his hair standing on end.
“Daniel,” a voice called from the woods. “No, Percy is it?”
FORTY EIGHT
“It was my mistake scaring you,” the figure said, trotting to a log, dropping onto it with a grunt. He placed his sheathed blade against the log, and he leaned in to clasp his hands together, waiting for the group to gather themselves after beating them senseless.
Percy hadn’t seen anyone, or anything, deal with the group as quickly, as effectively, or even as nonchalantly as this random guy they met in the middle of the forest. He was adorned in full plate, with no particular engravings, and other than an earring on his left ear, he seemed just like any other guy one might meet. Pale skin, brunette, a short but scruffy beard.
‘He really did just beat us without drawing his sword, huh?’ Percy thought.
“How are you enjoying this new life of yours?” the stranger finally said, causing Percy to sit up taller in surprise.
‘What?’ Percy’s heart began to thunder in his chest. “What are you talking about?”
The stranger laughed, waving his hand dismissively in the air. “You don’t have to be so on edge, man. I’m here to check up on you, that’s all.”
‘What the hell?’ “You…”
“Don’t worry, I had nothing to do with it. Like I said, I’m just here to check up on you, see how you’re doing. Though, considering everyone here…” His eyes fell across the group, and he did his best not to linger on a particular fellow. “I must have come within the first year?”
“…”
“You have a… daughter?”
“A son.”
“Ah! Percival, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Percy stared at the stranger, who was so ridiculously strong, that if he wanted to kill them all, he could have. ‘He must be a…’
“What a wonderful son you have. You should be careful, since he’s an Angyr, but he’s a sweet one.”
“What are you?” Percy finally worked up the courage to ask.
“A Whim,” the stranger said, holding out his arms, as though the word was something so grand, the figure chuckling playfully.
“A what?”
“A Whim. A thought. A momentary expression. I came to check on you, then, before anyone in this world notices me, I’ll leave.”
“I mean…” Percy looked at the others around him, all who remained silent, leaving it to him.
“You’re a hundred years too early to be considered someone in this world, no offence,” he said to the others, waving his hand once more.
“How strong are you?”
“If you were all… what do they call it in this world, Paragons, right? I might have had to think twice about approaching you like this.”
‘Damn, what a crazy strong guy!’
“You rolled rather poorly, didn’t you?” The Whim brushed his beard, eyeing the young man up.
“Yeah.”
“Hexblade?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t pick Druid?” the Whim asked, raising his brow.
“I thought about it, but…”
“High Charisma will save you from big problems, hopefully?”
“Yeah.”
The Whim laughed, nodding his head. “It got me out of quite some situations too. I should thank mum and dad for my handsome good looks, otherwise…”
Percy noted the look on the stranger’s face, the kind that said he had countless tales to speak of.
“Are you happy?” the Whim asked.
“Yes.”
The Whim smiled, a genuine smile, they could all see. He pat his knees and stood, having heard enough, while the others seemed to tense up. “I’ll give you some advice…”
Rayn stopped in her tracks, dropping down to both knees before him, her fingers clasped around her greatblade, the woman had been ready to swing, but the overwhelming pressure froze her in place.
“You should wait here for one day, otherwise…” The Whim was pretty sure he couldn’t say too much, otherwise his life would be at risk. “It’ll be bad, but it’s better than the alternative.”
“Thank you?”
“Take care of yourself, Percy. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll meet again, and we can sit and chat. If you reach Level 20, I might come by again, if I’m not busy.”
“Yeah, alright.” Percy swallowed, watching as the guy slapped Rayn’s shoulder to heal her for all her health, doing so for him too.
Health: 1 -> 18
“What’s your name?”
“You can just call me Ted.”
“Is it Theodore?”
“…” Theodore smiled and waved a hand, making his way out. He thought about how much he could affect the world, but this much was his limit before he was noticed. He had to let the dice fall where they may. He reached into his pocket, taking out a pocketwatch which told the time, and more, checking the messages he had received within it.
‘Ah, I got to go meet that crazy father?’ Theodore sighed, staring down at the face of his pocketwatch. ‘Who says I can’t delay it for a few decades?’
FORTY NINE
“We should return home swiftly,” Kahn said, still nursing the phantom ache within his body. He had never faced anyone with such power before. ‘That man, he may someone who is able to face against the like of Lord Asura.”
“I don’t think so,” Percy replied. “I think we should take his words seriously. He’s a being from above, beyond the skies and stars.”
“You know of him?” Kahn asked.
“No, but we come from the same place.”
Shiva sat up a little taller, narrowing his eyes. “He is from your homeland?”
“He’s from the place I was born,” Percy stated specifically, not wanting to say further, and not considering it much deeper than that.
The group ended up making their way to the nearby village, which had not met this fellow, and they stayed there for the day.
“What is your relationship with someone like him?” Shiva eventually asked.
“We are countrymen,” Percy assumed, since his accent was from his homeland.
“Is your relationship good between countrymen.”
“Uh, sort of. I don’t think he comes from further north, or the nearby island, otherwise everyone is just okay with each other.”
“Have you fought previously?”
“Hundreds of years ago, but otherwise we’re all part of the same country.” Percy shook his head. “He probably never thought of me, I never thought of him.”
They stayed at the village for the next day, before continuing along their way back to Paragon’s Rest.
At Paragon’s Rest, Kahn found his wife, who rushed up to him and the pair embraced. Kahn’s brows furrowed, glancing aside to his daughter, Gia, who clutched at her father’s shirt with both hands.
“What is wrong?”
“The Engwyn, they came and assaulted the villages. They burned down the nearby villages.”
Kahn’s eyes grew wide. “How many died?”
“A few, we escapes before they arrived. Some of the scouts were missing, but we found them, and a few warriors died to bide time for some villagers to escape.”
Kahn held his wife, picking up his daughter, holding her against his chest. The girl rested her head against his shoulder as the pair held one another. The others greeted Kahn, as well as Rayn and the others. Kahn held his daughter, feeling her light weight against his arms.
Zal also picked up his own child, who was still young, young enough he would not remember this. His eyes met his wife’s for a moment, before he closed his eyes. ‘I will need to patrol more often.’
Paragon’s Rest had quaroupled in size, and Percy noted just how many were working on building longhouses and fences. The hundreds of Malin worked together instantly, the Shamans assisting one another in dealing with the nearby fields, while a few remained on duty with their patrols, others building and assisting with general labour duties.
“The Engwyn have lit many fires,” Shiva said, feeling his heart light aflame.
‘I wonder how much they burned down,’ Percy thought, not realising how poetic Shiva was being. He found his son, whose head turned to meet him, the boy sucking on his hand before reaching up for his father with both hands. Percy’s heart, which had thundered the entire way, finally relaxed.
As evening came, Kahn, who had greeted many of the people within, stared down at his bowl. He stood, causing many around him to stare at him.
“The Engwyn tore us from our homes, but it was not enough. They desecrated our temples, but it was not enough. They stole out relics, but it was not enough. They dishonoured our dead, but it was not enough. They pillaged and violated our peoples, for centuries! But! It was not enough!” Kahn’s fury was evident for all to see, his daughter holding onto her mother.
“Even within these forested hills they encroach, burning our fields! No more, I say! They beg for death! They beg for slaughter! It is enough! We will make them beg for their lives!”
The Malin nearby began to cheer and roar, hollering from Kahn’s words.
“I will make the pilgrimage!” Kahn exclaimed. “I will rally the villages! You will see it, when in return, a collection of scarves greater than all previous!”
They all cheered for the young warrior, who was always ready to fight the Engwyn, and had been forced back for some reason. They could see the redness on his face, the veins ready to pop, his face almost ready to turn bestial, the shaking of his fist as he tried to restrain himself.
Percy held his son close to his chest and though the boy whimpered, he did not make to cry, safe within those large arms, even if Percy was half the size of most other men here.
FIFTY
The Malin each reached out to slap his hand, many already pledging themselves to Kahn.
“We will show them what it means to face us Malin!” one exclaimed, taken by fury.
“Why did you take so long, eh, Kahn?” Bart asked, clasping hands with Kahn. “I told you we should have taken our metal to them!”
“I will make the rounds and ask for the scarves,” Kahn promised, not smiling, but he nodded his head.
“We should speak with those who retired recently, they will wish to hear of it!”
“I will entrust that to you.”
Bart grinned, nodding his head.
“Will you assist me?” Kahn asked, dropping down beside Percy.
“How would you like me to assist you?”
“Pills, potions, weapons,” Kahn requested.
“I can give you decent enough discounts, but if you provide me the materials, I’ll slip a few fire hound pills your way. Then, in the future, if I grow a little stronger, I might even join you.”
“No, stay here. You must craft as much as you are able. You are a decent warrior, but you are invaluable creating such fine pills, potions, weapons.” Kahn was sure Percy would do much more than he said, though what he had promised was more than enough.
Percy nodded in return, glad he didn’t need to step out, though it might have been a decent time to do so. Unless, of course, he accidentally joined the one unit that was meant to be wiped out, lost to even the history books. “Kahn, I know you’re enraged right now, but…”
“Yes?”
“Are you willing to listen to me?”
“I am willing to listen to you, Uldar.” Kahn held onto Percy’s shoulders, bowing his head, before letting go.
“Right now, from what I’ve seen, from what I can guess, we’re too weak. My pills and potions, they can help close the gap, but I need to know more about the land, and more importantly, I need to grow stronger.” Percy glanced around, unsure of how strong they were compared to the Engwyn who had forced them away to these hills. It was one thing to defend one’s hills, another to try and take another’s hills.
“Do we appear so weak?”
“When I say weak, I don’t mean it like that. What I mean is, the cost of revenge, the cost of taking back the land, is too high right now. If you attack right now, things will escalate, sure, but we aren’t prepared yet, in my opinion. We only have a few pills, a few potions, a few weapons. Give us more time, give me more time, allow me to grow more powerful, not just with my combat capabilities, but my crafting. Allow me to learn greater pills.” Percy glanced around, and then looked knowingly into Kahn’s eyes.
Kahn considered the young man’s words, understanding what his eyes were saying.
“Allow me to fully bloom into a great magical warrior,” Percy said, his eyes saying a little more. “Then, who knows, the kinds of things I could brew…”
Kahn understood it wasn’t just about his alchemy.
“Then, all you’ll need is a few good warriors, and you’ll be able to wipe out so many of their soldiers, not just their typical guards, but their elite. What was that rank? Expert? Gather twenty warriors, each Experts, and you’ll be able to wipe out a band of fifty that make up their army. When I become an Expert, I will gain access to great abilities, and with the way my abilities work, I’ll be twice as powerful as a typical Expert if I take the right route.”
Kahn let out a soft sigh, considering the young man’s words. He couldn’t ignore him, he was an Uldar, and they had travelled for so long already, and he was his brother in law’s friend. He was also an alchemist, an enchanter, and decent enough as a warrior.
“I know why you want to do it now. It’s the best time now that everyone’s on edge. All you have to do is to ask for the nearby villages, ask some people to pledge themselves to you, and that you’ll prove yourself.” Percy leaned in. “I’ll show you, Kahn, what it means to have such a grand band of warriors.”
“…” Kahn hadn’t expected Percy of all people to be so zealous.
Shiva listened intently to his words. Once night imposed itself, Shiva called for Kahn, seeing how deep in thought the man was.
“Take his words into consideration,” Shiva said. “I have yet to regret them.”
Khal could feel it within his heart. This was the best time. The Engwyn had gifted him such a perfect opportunity and he could finally return to the battlefield, but now…
Kahn walked under the stars, trying to understand what he could possibly do. The decision he made that day, it was the most important decision he would make to this date.
2025-09-27 14:00:09 +0000 UTC
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