“Is he really going to risk his life for someone he has known for only a few weeks?” the Shaman asked, glancing towards Dargon.

“Is that so surprising?” Dargon asked, marching forward alongside her. Adam was far ahead, out of earshot from their conversation, though they spoke in their own tongue, so they doubted he could understand.

“Yes.”

“If Turot, the boy who shouted after us as we left, was killed by Red Oak, what would you do?” Dargon asked, casually.

“I’d do what any Iyrman would do,” the Shaman replied, simply. She wondered why he even needed to ask such a ridiculous question.

“It is the way of the Iyr,” Dargon said, nodding his head. “Just how much blood would we spill for the life of one of our children?”

“They must never forget what happens if they dare to bare their fangs towards us,” the devilkin Shaman said, but she understood his point. The Iyr would do ridiculous things in the eyes of others.

Dagon stared at Adam’s back. “Adam came to the Iyr for the sake of Sonarot and her newborn child.”

The Shaman furrowed her brows. “He arrived before the girl’s birth.”

Dargon nodded his head.

How did he know?”

Dargon shrugged his shoulders. “His past life?” He thought about it, wondering if Adam’s nonsensical words were true. Tazwyn seemed to believe so. ‘This is a great chance for you to prove yourself to us, Adam.’

“You don’t believe that, do you?”

“I had to keep an eye on him on the way,” Dargon said. “Including Tazwyn, whose discerning eyes are much better at this sort of thing. There was a moment where I thought his intentions were impure, when we came across Balrog, but thanks to him, my story has only become greater.” Dargon watched as Adam scanned the trees around them. Then his eyes fell to Jurot. “And, of all the people, it was he who allowed Jurot to wash away the stain of his past.”

The Shaman stared at the pair of young men ahead of them. She understood what it had meant for Jurot to be able to finally gain closure on the matter of the past. She bowed her head.

Lykan stood ahead of the gates, waiting for the ten to approach. He had received news from the Main Iyr about the task at hand, and had already prepared the items the Iyrmen would need. Not just the Iyrmen, but also that youngster. He shook his head slowly. “It hasn’t been that long and you’ve already…”

“Elder Lykan,” the orcish Iyrman, Okvar, greeted the Elder, and paid his respects.

“I have received word,” the Elder replied. “Please, come and rest. The equipment will be prepared and you may set out in the morning.” Lykan glanced down towards Jurot and Adam. “I didn’t expect to meet you both like this.”

“It is my mother who is unwell,” Jurot said. “I will go and bring back the herb, as expected of me.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her.” Adam said.

“Is it a coincidence that she fell sick once you had arrived?” Elder Lykan asked, the other Iyrman staring between he pair.

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted. “She shouldn’t have fallen sick.”

“You sound very confident.”

“That’s because I saw it,” Adam said, simply. “She shouldn’t have fallen sick.”

Lykan stared down into Adam’s eyes for a long while, before he turned and led the group forward to their lodgings.

Adam and Jurot would have to bunk up together, which was expected of them. Adam dropped his pack to the side and then sat down on the bed, sighing. ‘We’re going to waste a day walking to Front Iyr…’

“Adam,” called Okvar, who knocked on the door and waited.

“Yes?”

“Come,” he said.

Adam stepped out to see the Iyrman holding out a shirt made of dark scales. “A scale shirt, for protection,” Okvar said, handing it over.

Adam took it from him, staring at it. It was well made, but that was to be expected. It was much lighter than his chain mail, by quite a large amount, but it wouldn’t provide him as much protection.

“This is for me?”

“As long as you wear it, and don’t keep too many things on your person, you should be able to swim if you fall.”

“Thank you,” Adam said, smiling. He noted it only required two straps towards the waist.

“You will be handed a helmet tomorrow morning before we go as well.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you. Thank you.”

“It is no matter.” The older Iyrman placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come, we are to feast tonight. Wujyn wishes to speak of a tale.”

With that, Adam and Jurot joined the other Iyrmen for dinner, which was a giant boar and assortment of fruit.

“It appeared from the heavens,” Wujyn whispered, most way through her tale. “Its scales were as black as death, and I could hear Baktu call my name.” She brought up her axes, revealing their beauty to the Iyrmen about. “The wyvern came upon me quickly, but not so quick that I could not reach for my weapons. We fought, from the second hill to the third, and the brats behind me fell against the trees.” The beautiful devilkin pulled up her shirt to reveal a most gruesome scar at her side. “It plunged its stinger deep into me, and the poison coursed through me. I brought one axe across its throat, and another to clip its arm wing! I did not fall that day!”

“It would have been a good death,” Okvar said, nodding his head slowly at his compatriot. Wujyn and he had not told Adam their ranks, but the half elf imagined they were Mithril Rank.

“It would have, but fortune was upon me, and I did not die. It was only seconds later when the second wyvern crashed against my party! I turned and leapt into the fray, my battleaxes barely gripped within my hands!” She grinned wide, raising her weapons. “I had never been so close to Baktu as I had on that day.” She sheathed her weapons, sighing wistfully.

Jurot had leaned in to hear the story, nodding his head constantly as she spoke. “I will die to a dragon,” he said, bluntly. “Like my uncle!”

Adam hadn’t heard about the tale of his uncle, but thought about how he wanted to die. “I want to die peacefully, in my sleep, surrounded by my loved ones, who will have lived happier lives than me.” He smiled, thinking about his wish. “Or beside Jurot.” He chuckled lightly.

“An interesting pair of options.” Dargon smiled. “I will die in a storm of my foe’s blood.”

“And I, for the Iyr,” Wujyn said, smiling wide.

“You know, maybe we shouldn’t talk about our deaths,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes. “Not until we return to aunt with her herb.” Adam glanced at them all. “A good death can wait.”

Wujyn chuckled. “You need have no worry.” She reached over and pat his back. “We will return with the herb.”

The other Iyrmen began with their own tales. Rokat, who was the Shaman’s twin sister, spoke of her tale, where she had gone with Sikvar to the Order of the Thousand Hunts, which would hunt down powerful monsters, to slay the three manticores of the region.

Once the tales were told, they returned to their beds. Jurot sat on his bed, and Adam lay against it, laying on his back, rubbing his stomach.

“Hey, Jurot?”

“Yes?”

“Why are all the devilkin women around us so beautiful?” Adam thought about the three women. Lokat, the Shaman, and Rokat, her twin sister, were utterly gorgeous. Wujyn, who was in her late fifties or so, was also beautiful.

“It is their good fortune.”

“And ours.” Adam chuckled.

“You are too weak to handle them.”

Adam glanced at Jurot, who had raised his brow at the half elf. “You’re not wrong about that.” Adam chuckled again.

Jurot shook his head and brought out a piece of wood. He began to work on it with his dagger, carving out the rough shape.

"What are you carving?"

"An owl," Jurot said. "It will watch over mother."

“Oh, cool.” Adam relaxed in his bed. ‘An owl?’ He sat up. “Does the Front Iyr have components for spells?”

"It does, but did you not bring your gems?”

"I can use gems instead?"

Jurot nodded his head. “Gem dust works.”

“Oh.” Adam nodded his head. “The gems I have are worth a little more than what I need, though.”

“You may ask Elder Lykan,” Jurot offered.

Adam frowned, thinking about the Elder’s reaction. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“I do not believe he dislikes you. Elder Lykan is responsible for allowing you through, so if you do something, it will reflect poorly on him.”

“Do you think I did something to your mother?”

“No,” Jurot said. “I do not believe you are so stupid.”

Adam smiled. “Alright, I guess I should go speak with him.” Adam hopped out of bed and made his way to find Elder Lykan.

He found the Elder sitting around the fire, talking with a few of the children, who had turned their attention to the half elf who had approached.

“Good evening, Elder Lykan, I apologise for bothering you. I was just wondering if perhaps I could trade for some gem dust to be used in my spells?”

“What do you need it for?” Elder Lykan asked, staring at the half elf with a cold look.

Adam shuddered. The man had Amokan’s eyes, who had looked at him quite fondly in the Iyr. “I need it for a spell of mine.”

“Which spell?”

“Find Familiar.”

“You would dare summon a familiar in the Iyr?” Lykan raised his brows, amused by what he was hearing.

“No, I’m not that stupid, like how I’m not stupid enough to do anything to my aunt.” Adam’s eyes glazed over with a glare.

Elder Lykan stared at him, noting the look in the half elf’s eyes. “Very well.” He stood. “I will finish the tale another time.”

“Aw,” the children grumbled.

The Elder took the half elf to his own abode. “How much do you need?”

Currency: (2) Tiger Eye -> (1) Tiger Eye

“That’s a lot of familiars.”

“I have no doubt he’s going to get killed a few times.”

‘He?’ Lykan just nodded. He disappeared into his home and returned not even a minute later. The Elder handed him the gem’s worth in gem dust, which would allow him to summon his familiar five times, as long as he had the other components to the spell.

“Thank you,” Adam said, nodding his head, before turning on his heel and swiftly marching away.

Omen: 13, 14

Adam awoke in the morning to eat a light meal, though the Iyrmen were ravenous. He noted that Wujyn and Rokat both had acquired a similar armour to him, a shirt made of dark scales.

“I wish you the best of luck,” Lykan said, shaking each of their forearms, including Adam’s.

“Come home safely!” the children shouted, watching as they made their way out towards the death trap.

The group made their way to the river beyond the wall, where it raged. The Shaman then reached into her cloak and pulled out a small toy boat. She whispered a few words and it expanded into the river, though it was somehow still within the raging water.

Adam stared at the river boat ahead of him, which was etched with all kinds of runes. Inset within the sides of the boat were at least a dozen gems, each worth at least a hundred gold pieces, with another large set of gems set within figurehead of the boat, which was carved like a dragon. There was a small sail too.

“Nice boat,” Adam said.

“I will use my magic to power the boat, but there may be times where you will be required to row,” Lokat said.

“Would I be able to power it with my magic?” Adam asked.

“Perhaps,” she said. “How many spells can you cast?”

“Three, though only those at the level of Find Familiar.”

“You may power it twice at the beginning of the day, and I will power it beyond.”

Adam nodded, hopping onto the boat with the others. They put away their packs below deck, though the Iyrmen each kept their weapons nearby.

Lokat grabbed Adam’s hand, which made him freeze for a moment, before she brought it to the figurehead. “Expend your magic,” she said.

“Right,” he said.

Mana: 3 -> 2

The gems flashed for a moment as the sails unfurled above him and the boat blasted forward, much quicker than he expected.

“Woo!” Adam exclaimed like a little boy.

Constitution Save
D20 + 4 = 24 (20)

 

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Will he leave safely?