Omen: 2, 3

“Come,” Sonarot said, tying Adam’s collar button. 

Adam stood there awkwardly, as though they were preparing to go to a wedding. He was suited in a new attire he hadn’t expected, something made of the finest cloth, white, with a blue collar, the family’s tattoo stitched along the sleeves. 

A weird, unsettledness filled his gut as she fixed up his clothing, before going off to do the same to Jurot, who was wearing the same clothing as Adam. Adam stared down at the sleeves, and then to Sonarot and Jurot.

‘Should I really be here?’ Adam thought, wondering if it was right for him to barge into the family. He shook his head, pushing away the thoughts.

Lucy was outside, wearing some fine clothing made of white and blue too, except no pattern was stitched into the sleeves. 

“What’s this festival for anyway?” Adam asked.

“It’s the last week of Dawnval,” Sonarot said. “We are thanking it for treating us well.”

‘That’s kinda cute.’

Once Sonarot was done fixing the trio’s appearance, she visited one of the other families, and then returned with Lanarot, who was wearing some new clothing, also made of fine cloth, though she was also strapped to Sonarot, resting against the woman’s arm. 

“Who is this little cutie,” Adam said, leaning in to look at Lanarot, who was cuddled up to her mother.

Lanarot saw Adam from the corner of her eye and jerked around to look up at him. She stared up at him for a few moments before reaching up with a tiny, chubby hand. Adam let her grab onto his finger, which she squeezed and held tight. The tiny little girl smiled at him, cooing. 

“That’s right, you’re the cutest, aren’t you?” Adam smiled wide, melting under the first smile he had seen from the tiny little girl.

Lanarot kept smiling and cooing until she finally saw a strand of hair fall nearby, and she reached for it instead, ignoring Adam.

‘I can die happy now,’ Adam thought, before he stared up at the sky. ‘No. I need to make sure she grows up well first.’

“You’re thinking about something stupid, aren’t you?” Lucy asked, punching his arm lightly. 

“Probably,” Adam replied. “Whoa, who is this handsome young man.”

Turot had appeared, wearing the same outfit as the two young men, his hair swept to one side, rather than the ruffledness it usually was. “Turot, son of Mirot!” he proudly declared.

“That’s right,” Adam said, chuckling as he pat the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s have fun today, alright?”

“Yes!”

“Our festival lasts the entire week,” Sonarot said, throwing Adam a look.

“The entire week?” Adam asked, surprised. “You Iyrmen sure party hard.”

 “You will be relaxing the entire time.” Sonarot stared at him.

“I can’t enchant the entire week?” Adam gasped. “But…”

Sonarot sighed, shaking her head. “You need a woman.”

Adam coughed. “What?”

“You are young and full of will. You need a woman to calm you down so you’re not overworking yourself. I can’t bother you all the time, I am your aunt, so you need a wife who will make sure you stop coughing up blood every time you enchant.” Her eyes held a knowing look.

“I’m fine, seriously,” Adam said, glancing to the side.

“If you collapse again, I will not let you use the shrines,” she warned, though Adam already had permission from Elder Gold.

Adam glanced aside again. “Okay, okay…”

The other Iyrmen all around were also wearing their best clothing. Amokan was with his younger cousins, the twins Damokan and Kalokan, each wearing matching clothing. Kitool and her younger sister Katool also wore matching clothing, though the younger Katool also wore a ribbon around her forehead. Then there was Jaygak and Raygak, who were with their cousins, Taygak and Saygak. Taygak was staring suspiciously at Adam, who quickly glanced aside.

Once they passed along their greetings, the adults allowed their children to leave. The youngest group followed Taygak, who was the oldest of the children, and she led them away. 

“Come,” Jurot said to Adam. “I will guide you.”

Adam nodded, following Jurot out, noting that the others broke off from one another too. Kitool and Jaygak went together, and Amokan went to Timojin, who was beside another pair of orcish Iyrmen, both little girls.

‘Sisters?’ Adam wondered as they left.

A large number of temporary buildings had been set up in the pathways of the Iyr, though some were available in the various estates near the centre too. Adam sniffed the air, and his mouth began to salivate. 

He could smell it, the sweet scent of pizza.

He followed it to find four separate estates each working dozens of ovens to create pizza near the centre of the Main Iyr, whereas the outer edges had the fried foods of the Iyr. 

“Son of Fate,” called an Iyrman Adam did not recognise. “Come.”

“Son of Fate!” another called from the opposite side, motioning with her hand. “Come.”

“Son of Fate,” came the voices of many others, and Adam glanced all around.

“What’s going on?” Adam said, wondering if he was in a nightmare all of a sudden.

Jurot motioned to their stalls. “They are making pizza. They want you to taste it, since you were the one to invent it.”

“Yeah but there’s so many,” Adam said. There were some Iyrman about eating the slices, nodding their heads at the half elf, who nodded his head in return. “Let’s get out of here,” Adam whispered. 

“You do not want to eat pizza?”

“Of course I do, but there are at least a hundred people looking at me,” Adam said, quickly retreating away from the masses.

They were finally at the edge of the Main Iyr, where there were a few people relaxing and chatting with one another. 

“The Iyr is huge,” Adam said, glancing all about, noting all the various estates. 

“It is,” Jurot said, nodding his head.

“Hey, Jurot, I’m sorry about taking so long in the Iyr.”

“It is okay,” he said. “You have enchanted so many things for our family. Turot has complained that he has yet to receive something.”

“I’ll try and make him something,” Adam said, chuckling. 

Jurot led Adam to a small stall where there was an Iyrman making fried dough balls using his family’s recipe, offering it to anyone who came nearby. Jurot took one and bit into it. He said something in their tongue, and then motioned for Adam to take one.

“How much?” Adam asked.

The Iyrman stared at him before looking to Jurot. “How much?”

“For the food.”

“You may eat one,” the Iyrman said. 

“No, I mean how much to buy.”

The Iyrman tilted his head at Adam. 

“You can take one,” Jurot said. 

“For free?”

“Yes?” Jurot replied, staring at Adam, mirroring his confusion.

The Iyrman cook picked up a stick of fried doughballs and offered it to Adam.

“I can eat one for free?” Adam asked, taking the stick, nodding his head to the Iyrman.

“You may eat as many as you like,” Jurot said. “The food is free.”

“All the food?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“Damn, I love it here so much,” Adam said, biting into the dough bun.

Constitution Save
D20 + 5 = 25 (20)

Adam gasped as he bit into the dough ball, which was full of a chilli surprise. It was almost fiery, and he inhale deeply. It was equally as delicious as it was spicy, and he slapped his knee gently. 

The Iyrman chef smirked, throwing a look to Jurot, who cracked a smile. 

“Fucking hell,” Adam said, gasping for air, the Iyrman chef offering him a bowl of cool milk. Adam drank it, swishing it in his mouth as he did. “That’s so hot. Delicious, but hot.”

“Your friend has good taste,” the Iyrman said.

“He’s my brother,” Jurot corrected.

The Iyrman nodded in response.

“So hot,” Adam gasped. 

“I am surprised,” the Iyrman said. “Most people would have spat it out and have begged for more milk.”

“I think sweet things are meant to be better for the heat,” Adam said, sipping the rest of the milk.

“Your brother is very smart,” the Iyrman said to Jurot. “Not many know that.” He offered the pair some sweet balls on a stick too.

“Yes,” Jurot agreed.

The pair stepped aside to eat their sweet dough balls in peace. 

“Did you set me up?” Adam asked.

“No,” Jurot said. “I knew it was hot, but did not tell you.”

“That’s one hell of a betrayal,” Adam said.

Jurot frowned.

“Relax, it’s just a joke. I’m the one with his mouth on fire.” Adam bit into a sweet doughball. “Duskval, huh. So what’s the next season?”

“Noonval,” Jurot said. “It will be very hot.”

“Yeah?” Adam sighed. “Damn. That’s going to suck.”

“It is best to adventure in Dawnval and Duskval,” Jurot said. “Some people adventure in Nightval.”

“When it’s all snowy?” Adam asked.

Jurot nodded.

“That’s crazy.”

“I believe Nightval is for rest, but there are many Iyrmen who adventure during the months.”

“Of course they would.” Adam smiled. 

“The others will leave to adventure after the festival,” Jurot said. “Amokan and Timojin, and Kitool and Jaygak.”

“Really?” Adam said, having not heard such news. “How come?”

“That was the time they chose to adventure,” Jurot said. “They are eighteen, like me, and so will leave soon.”

“Shall we ask them to join us then?”

“Three Iyrmen in one group?” Jurot asked.

“I know they’re both martials like you and I,” Adam said, noting Jurot’s look. “We can have a Priest as our fifth.”

“Five in a party?” Jurot asked. “It is rare.”

“I think five is nice. I prefer six, honestly, but five is nice too.”

“Why do you prefer six?”

“Less chance of dying,” Adam admitted.

Jurot nodded.

“Still, having two women join us… isn’t that a little weird?” Adam said, wondering how their dynamic would change with two women around. 

“How?”

“Well, you know, because they’re women.”

Jurot stared at Adam, waiting for him to explain. 

“We can’t, you know, be bros with them around.”

“We will be brothers regardless of who joins us, Adam,” Jurot said, placing a hand on Adam’s shoulder, completely missing what he was talking about. 

“Never mind,” Adam said. “I assume Priests are highly sought after?”

“Yes.”

"What if it was three Iyrmen in a party? Would any Priests join a group like that?”

“Those who pray for Law, Death, or War will definitely be enticed. Those of other domains may as well, but it is less likely.”

Adam nodded his head. “Is Sozain still the God of Death?” Adam asked. He hadn’t heard their titles last they spoke.

“Lord Sozain, Baktu, is still the God of Death,” Jurot said, nodding his head. “Do you not refer to the gods as Lords and Ladies?”

Adam sighed. “No, but I probably should show those three some respect. Actually, I met them recently.”

“You met the gods?” Jurot asked.

“Do you remember when we met Lucy?” Adam asked.

Jurot nodded. 

“That night they came to me in my dreams, or they took me to them whilst I was dreaming.”

Jurot slowly nodded his head. “Why?”

“They were checking me out. Hey, did you know Bandlor’s no longer the God of War?” Adam asked, still surprised by the fact. 

“You had mentioned the name Bandlor in your tale, but I did not recognise it. Wahtu, the one you call Lady Arya, has always been the God of War.”

“No shit,” Adam said, raising his brows in surprise. “Damn. I liked Bandlor. I hope he’s doing okay.” 

The half elf noted a beautiful Iyrman to one side. She had bronze skin, and long dark hair, braided down towards her lower back. She was beside two young girls, also bronze skinned with dark hair, each eating small fried balls off of a stick.

“Hey Jurot, who is that,” Adam said, elbowing the Iyrman at his side. He squinted his eyes, noting the tattoo on the woman’s forehead. “Hold on, isn’t that…”

 

 

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Thus begins the festival arc! Adam is totally going to enjoy the festival and not get side tracked, right?