Omen: 3, 9

“Are you feeling lucky today?” Sonarot asked.

“No,” Adam said, smiling at her. “They don’t feel lucky today, though.”

Sonarot tilted her head, staring at him, but she brushed his cheek. “Will you win?”

“I will,” Adam said, nodding his head. 

He prepared his spells, eyeing up one of the spells, but he decided against using it. 

The Iyr had heard of the news, that Adam, son of Fate, was going to face Amokan and Timojin. It wouldn’t have been great news, except many of the Rot, Jin, and Kan families were going to be there.

When Adam arrived, he noted the pair of young Iyrmen. “Hey,” he called out. “How come you guys are using magical weapons too?”

Upon their backs were beastly greatswords, and even from where Adam stood, he could feel the great strength in their magic. 

Amokan grinned wide. “Our family is also our strength!” he declared proudly. 

Timojin was too excited about wielding one of their greatest weapons that he barely replied. 

Though each weapon was powerful, they were too inexperienced to use them to their full effects, but they would still act as magical weapons with a minor bonus.

“Isn’t that shameless?” Adam asked, even though he was going to be using a magic weapon too. 

“You too are a member of the Rot family, no?” Amokan asked. “You had used their resources to assist you.”

Adam grumbled quietly, understanding their point. “You two…” He grabbed his sword. “You always mention that you’re going to be the Chiefs, but let me tell you, I won’t allow you! Today is the day that dream dies!” Adam, annoyed by how they constantly bugged him about fighting, finally snapped. 

The Iyrmen around all gasped upon hearing his words.

“I, Amokan, son of Okkan, will become Chief of the Iyr!” 

“I, Timojin, son of Havajin, will become Chief of the Iyr!”

“I refuse!” Adam declared in front of the other Iyrmen. His heart beat wildly. “It’s obvious who will become Chief of the Iyr!”

The Iyrmen waited with bated breath. They couldn’t believe what he was saying, and even Sonarot wondered if she should stop him from digging a hole which was too deep to climb out of.

“Do you think you have the capability?” Amokan asked, drawing his greatsword, gripping it tight. He sighed, feeling its great strength fill him.

“Who ever said I wanted to be Chief of the Iyr?” Adam asked, staring at him. “It will definitely be my adorable baby sister.”

Sonarot coughed, causing Lanarot to look up at her. “How embarrassing,” she whispered, her cheeks turning red. ‘Should I be happy that he’s so eager to play?’

Chief Iromin stared at the half elf, his lips twitching into a smile as he brushed his chin. “I didn’t expect him to say something so embarrassing.”

“Lanarot will become Chief!” Adam declared. “If she wants to be, that is.” He cleared his throat. “Jurot will become the world’s first Diamond Rank Adventurer too! Just you wait, you’ll all be hearing a thousand stories from him when he’s old and retired! And even my little cousin Turot, he’ll be Elder Peace. You hear that? Two members of the Rot family in power, you’d better mark my words!”

Turot’s lips formed into a cheeky smile as he was mentioned, and he began to clap, causing a few other Iyrmen to clap in solidarity with him.

“What of you?” Timojin asked, already feeling the itch to fight crawl through him. “What do you wish to become, if not Chief? A Great Elder?”

“In order to make their dreams come true, I will aim for the highest rank within this entire world.” Adam raised his sword towards the sky. ‘If I want to live a peaceful life, then there’s only one thing for me…’ “I will become Unrivalled Under the Heavens!”

“Unrivalled Under the Heavens?” Timojin asked, feeling something stir within him.

Amokan whispered the words, feeling something stir within him too. ‘What does that mean?’

“I will be the strongest in this entire world! That way if anyone dares to bully my little sister, I’ll beat them! Even the gods will think twice before daring to bully her! You think I’ll let you guys bother me again in this life?” Adam pushed away the embarrassment of his words. “Are you listening, Baktu? Wahtu, Ritetu, don’t you forget it either. Even if I do like you, I won’t forgive any of you.”

“What kind of madman challenges the gods?” Elder Wrath asked, barely able to contain his laughter.

“You shouldn’t laugh,” Elder Teacher said, understanding just how difficult his role had become after Adam’s declaration. 

“Lanarot, look at your brother,” Sonarot said, holding the ribbon in front of the little girl before snapping it away. Lanarot’s eyes were most unfocused as they stared ahead of her, seeing all the shapes. Sonarot held her cheeks, making sure she wouldn’t look away.

“Wujyn,” Adam called. “Ten Tiger Eyes! Do you dare to take the bet?”

“I dare, son of Fate!” Wujyn shouted back at him. 

Shadows loomed.

A one armed man sat on the top of a building, holding a young devilkin teen on his lap, who was sitting peacefully as he stared at the half elf. “What a fool of a boy,” the old, one armed Iyrman said, his lips curling into a smile.

Shaool stood not far from him, her cloak billowing in the breeze. “We were all so lively in our youth as well.” She glanced towards the devilkin man, who reached down to rub his grandchild’s head, all while his other grandfather held him close.

“Enough to challenge the gods?” the devilkin man asked.

The one armed man reached to rub his elbow stump, his face contorting in pain. “He is in for a rude awakening.”

“We will see,” Shaool said, her eyes glued to the boys.

Adam donned his shield, clutching his die in his hand with it, staring at the pair before him. The two Iyrmen before him were ready to burst. He inhaled deeply, swallowing his nerves. “Now, come!” he shouted.

Battle Order 
D20 + 1 = 21 (20)

Mana: 8 -> 6
Spell: Mirror Image

Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2

Onward Soar: 1 -> 0

Mana: 6 -> 5
Hex

Attack
D20 + 7 = 11 (4)
D20 + 7 = 26 (19)
Hit!
1D6 + 2D6 + 1D6 + 5 = (4)(1, 2)(1)
13 damage!

Adam was going to engrave it within the Iyrmen’s minds this day. Since he had been challenged by the pair in front of his aunt, he needed to show the two what it meant to try and face him. 

It wasn’t just a message to the pair, but the entire Iyr.

Look at me, he declared with his steely look. 

Look at me, with my enchanted blade of whitesteel and Iyr ivory.

Look at me, with my puthral plate mail, traded for a mighty shield.

Look at me, for I am Adam, son of Fate.

The Mana coursed through his body. “Which is the real me?” he asked, summoning forth several images of himself, all of which mirrored his motions as the two filled with rage and charged at him.

He inhaled deeply, focusing his mind as he surged forward, bolting towards them. “You should be careful,” he said, Mana coursing through him as Amokan swung wildly, the blade letting out a loud rush of air as the Iyrman missed Adam. Amokan could feel something invade his body, gripping his muscles. 

Mirror Image: 3 -> 2

Timojin managed to swipe through a Mirror Image, watching as the half elf cut into his companion beside him, the blade flashing white as he struck through Amokan’s side. 

Amokan almost tumbled right then and there, but his rage picked him back up and he roared wildly. “Yes!”

“Who do you think will win?” Elder Zijin asked, watching as the trio clashed. Even Jurot was unable to handle the pair of them, and though Adam was using his magical sword, the other two were using greater blades, even if they couldn’t wield them to their full potential. 

“My nephew, of course,” Sonarot said, brushing her daughter’s hair, the tiny girl listening to the fight. 

“What is the bet this time?” Elder Zijin asked. “I dare not take too much from you, you still need to feed your daughter.”

“Ten Tiger Eyes,” Sonarot said, mirroring Adam’s confidence.

Elder Zijin raised his brow. “So much?”

“I would like to bet more, but I’m afraid you would be unable to afford it.” 

Zijin laughed. “Then ten Tiger Eye gems it is!”

Attack
D20 + 7 = 17 (10)
Hit!
1D6 + 2D6 + 1D6 + 5 = (5)(1, 3)(5)
Damage resisted!
14 damage! 

As Amokan wound his blade back, winding it too far back, Adam cut deep across the Iyrman’s chest, spraying the area full of blood. Amokan, who was full of rage, continued to swing wildly, but he collapsed under Adam, his blade flying through the air. The blade flew and scattered towards Sonarot, though Zijin stepped ahead and slammed it down with his foot. 

“Amokan!” Adam panicked, seeing the near lifeless form of the Iyrman, having not seen where the blade was falling. “Get up!”

Mana: 5 -> 4
Healing Word
1D3 + 3 = 5 (2)

Amokan groaned as the magic filled his body, opened his eyes to see Adam’s boot. ‘What?’

“Keep your eyes on me, Adam!” Timojin roared. 

Mirror Image: 2 -> 1

He struck through one of the Mirror Images as Adam pulled aside, keeping his shield up as they fought. Timojin had managed to land two blows on the magic, but had yet to find the true body. 

“Amokan, get away,” called Sonarot, hoping the boy would listen. 

Attack
D20 + 7 = 10 (3)
Miss!

Adam shifted his Hex spell from Amokan, who rolled away, which soon seized Timojin’s muscles. Doing so required some effort, so he could not call forth his Fighting Spirit.

Timojin, fueled by the strength of his mighty weapon, cut through Adam.

Mirror Image: 1 -> 0

However, he did not feel the resistance of flesh, which only fueled his rage. “Come here!” the Iyrman roared, wishing to spill blood.

Fighting Spirit: 2 -> 1

Attack
D20 + 7 = 18 (11)
D20 + 7 = 25 (18)
Hit!
1D6 + 2D6 + 1D6 + 5 = (6)(5, 6)(3)
Damage resisted!
20 damage! 

“Okay,” Adam said, leaping forward as the Iyrman thrust with his greatsword, trying to pierce through the half elf. Yet it was Adam’s blade which struck true, whereas his barely glided off the puthral armour. 

He roared, dropping to a knee, feeling the blood trickle down his side, and yet he lifted his blade again. “I will strike true!” he declared, swinging his blade down to Adam.

Fighting Spirit: 1 -> 0

Attack
D20 + 7 = 23 (16)
D20 + 7 = 23 (16)
Hit!
1D6 + 1D6 + 5 = (6)(5)
Damage resisted!
11 damage! 

As he swung his blade down, Adam struck the Iyrman across his head with the pommel of his sword, knocking him down, the magical greatsword dropping harmlessly beside Adam’s foot.

The Iyr cheered, clapping for the conclusion of the fight, and many Iyrmen began to hand over their gold to one another.

Mana: 4 -> 3
Spell: Cure Wounds
1D6 + 4 = 6 (2)

Adam dropped to his knee and placed a hand on Timojin’s head, quickly healing the Iyrman.

“You still had more magic?” Amokan asked, watching as Adam healed his rival.

“Yes,” Adam replied, simply.

Amokan leaned back, holding onto the wound at his side, which had closed over but was still throbbing. 

Timojin groaned as he awoke, rubbing his head. The ache in his head pounded, and he looked up to the half elf. “Good fight,” he said.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, nodding his head. “You alright?”

“I am well,” Timojin rolled onto his back. “I did not manage to strike you once.”

“Magic, am I right?” Adam said, smiling. “Next time you should ban it.”

Timojin just chuckled. “I would rather lose to you at your strongest.”

Adam smiled. 

Jaygak and Kitool stared at Adam, filled with shock. Not only them, but the other Iyrmen too.

Not only did he still have Mana, but the pair didn’t even manage to land a single hit on the half elf. 

“He’s not so bad,” the one armed man said. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“It will only deepen their resolve,” the last Iyrwoman, who had been watching silently the entire time, said. She would have been a beautiful woman if it wasn’t for the huge scar across her left eye and down the side of her neck. 

“If he wants to become Chief, then perhaps he’ll need to challenge the gods as well?” The one armed Iyrman laughed.

Elsewhere, Iromin was staring at the two young Iyrmen who had been beaten. “What do you think?”

“Let’s hope he remains our ally,” Elder Gold said. “He will only grow more powerful if we leave him be.”

“Did you expect him to be so strong?” Iromin asked.

“No,” Elder Gold admitted. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have traded the puthral.” She smiled. “Did you think he was going to be so strong?”

Iromin stared at the half elf. “No.”

Adam fell down beside Sonarot, panting for air. He was covered in sweat. If Amokan had landed any of his blows, he wasn’t sure he’d have all of his limbs intact. “Amokan is scary,” he admitted.

“You did well,” Sonarot said, brushing his wet hair. 

Adam looked down towards Lanarot, who was sucking on a ribbon. He reached down with a finger. “Did you see?” Adam asked as Lanarot reached up to grab his finger. “Your big brother won.”

At the end of the fight, a few Iyrmen children flocked to him. Some of them were shouting at him in their language, which he now understood.

“Pat my head!”

“Give me ribbon!”

“Tell me your story!”

“I want to fight too!”

“Magic me! Magic me!”

One, a young boy with black hair and blue eyes, was staring at his sword. “Can I hold your sword, please?” he asked in Aldspeak. 

“Sure,” Adam said, handing the sword over. 

The boy stared at it long and hard, rubbing his hand tenderly along it.

“Do you like swords?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” the boy replied, not even looking up at him. He was enamoured by the blade, and refused to look away even for a second. 

Adam caught Jurot’s eyes. The Iyrman nodded his head, and Adam returned a nod. 

Quest Complete: Defeat the Future Chiefs of the Iyr
+300XP
XP: 700 -> 1000

 

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If Amokan landed a single hit, it would have been rough.

Ilyakan regretting going with her handsome cousin now.