40. The Quest, Complete

40. The Quest, Complete

“There’s another wall?” Adam asked, staring up at it. It went from the horizon on his left, to the horizon on his right, right before the mountain truly began.

Adam had been impressed by the first wall, but this was another beast entirely. It wasn’t just that it was made of stone, or that it was easily five times as tall as he at a conservative estimate, but the fact there was a rushing river which threatened to sweep away any creature which came within five steps of it.

Suddenly he felt naked without his armour, which was being carried by Kandal in a large backpack made of wood. He had been told it would have been a harsh journey with it, so Kandal was going to carry the chain mail on his behalf.

He thought nothing of it.

Spell

Guidance

1D3 = 1 (1)

Perception Check

D20 + 2 + 1 = 6 (3)

He muttered a few words, trying to spot any other features, any outposts the Iyrmen may have, but was unable to see anything against the rocks. ‘That’s probably intentional,’ he thought. ‘Damn. The Iyr might really be impossible to invade.’

The raging river gave him pause, glancing over towards it. With how steep the mountain was, the rushing river actually sprayed all the way to the group, which stood easily twenty paces away from it, which was as close as they dared to stand.

“Since you’re not going to continue the story, will you at least tell me why you left the children behind?” Adam asked. He was interested in hearing more about the tale. ‘Did King Solomon manage to march his army all the way here? What would he have said?’

“The Front Iyr is where they will remain until they are picked up,” Argon said. “That is best for them. The Front Iyr is a much easier place for outsiders. If the children are brought to Big Iyr, they will be overwhelmed.”

‘Big Iyr?’

“The story will be told to you in due time, Adam,” Dargon said, smirking at the half elf.

Adam grumbled, but he followed the Iyrmen further in. They started their ascent up the mountain, as as the hours passed, Adam was glad that Kandal was carrying his chain mail. It truly would have been a gruelling journey if he had worn his armour. Though the armour would have distributed well all over his body, he could only imagine how much he’d want to cut off his feet by the end of the trek.

As the late sun began to crest beyond the mountain, they finally approached what Adam assumed to be the Big Iyr.

“Another set of walls?” Adam gasped, finding another set of walls far more impressive than the last. “Just how many walls do you guys have?” Adam cried out, staring at the large walls before him.

“This is not a wall,” Argon said.

“It’s a fence,” the other Iyrmen continued.

Jurot smirked, finally able to say the joke to his first person. It was something all Iyrmen wished to say, and he managed to say it so young.

Adam squinted his eyes at the Iyrmen. It was definitely a wall, a wall made of mountain, with a large gate upfront. The gate was at least six times as tall as him, and the gate was slightly smaller, flanked by six statues, three on each side.

Two Iyrmen stood tall on the walls, which made them look like little dolls. They wore thick cloaks, and carried with them their family’s weapons, as well as a longbow. They, too, were like statues.

A third Iyrman sat in the room above the large wooden doors. She climbed up and stood atop the walls, crossing her arms as she stared down at them.

“We have returned,” Argon declared, staring up at her.

The Iyrman eyed the group up, noting the stranger in the chain mail, before nodding her head. “Open the gates!” she shouted.

The doors shook open, the might of eight Iyrmen forcing it so. These were Iyrmen who were nearby during the call, and had taken it upon themselves to assist. There were ropes which led upwards from the doors, no doubt to a contraption which would open the gates easily.

‘Do they do it the hard way on purpose?’ Adam thought. ‘Of course they do, they’re Iyrmen.’

The woman dropped down to greet Argon, speaking in their tongue some ways away. She glanced at Adam, before nodding her head, returning to her conversation with Argon.

Adam was too busy staring at the Iyr to pay attention to them. The Iyr was huge, bigger than the village he had recalled in his last life. ‘Whoa.’

The Iyr was built partly in the side of the mountain, a few tunnels leading elsewhere, small cliffs overlooking the Iyr and the houses. There were hundreds of large square blocks built ahead of him, before the walls blocked off the next layer.

“This is Big Iyr,” Jurot said.

“Yeah, you aren’t kidding,” Adam said. There were thousands of people all moving around, with children scampering about, whacking each other with paper weapons.

Some of the children had heard the shout and noticed the returning Iyrmen. They wasted no time in dispensing with their games to rush up to the returning Iyrmen, all squealing excitedly in their language, no doubt asking for gifts.

Argon and the others pulled out small items made of bone, mostly just decorations or jewellery, but there a few bones which were decorated with a design.

“Bones?” Adam asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Yes, mother,” Jurot replied, kicking off his sandal boots and quickly finding the cushions and stools for everyone. ‘Mother must have been eating a lot of bread. I should go and slay that boar with Adam.’

Adam removed his boots, before stepping inside, onto the blanket which lay on the floor. The room was fairly bare, though it was quite large, with several large crates inside to store things and to be used as furniture. There were a few shelves about, full of various pots and pans, and each wall had at least one axe pinned to it.

Jurot brought the large cushions and some blankets, placing them over the crates, which he slid into position so they could sit down comfortably.

“I didn’t expect you to return so soon,” Sonarot admitted, looking to her son, smiling at him. “Did you miss me so much?”

“Adam wished to speak with you,” he said, flushing a little more. “He knew of your name.”

Sonarot threw a look towards the half elf, who was quite the handsome young man. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. She gave a quick nod of the head to Argon, who nodded back to her, and the pair understood what it meant for Argon to be there. Her entire focus fell back on to Adam, who was unarmed, and wore a longsword and warhammer at his side.

Adam glanced to Argon, who had his arms crossed, staring at Adam. Unbeknownst to Adam, the man held a small gem within his hand, just in case. He wasn’t sure how much he should say in front of the man, but he had already let a few things slip out.

“Well, you’ve never met me, I suppose,” Adam eventually said.

“Have you met me?” Sonarot asked, smiling politely.

“In another life.”

Sonarot’s brows raised for a moment, before relaxing. “I do not know how elves live. They are quite rare, even for us Iyrmen.” Her lips formed a playful smile.

“I’m only a half elf,” Adam said. Even now, he wasn’t getting sick of the joke.

‘Does he say that every time?’ Argon wondered.

“A whole son to your parents, no?” Sonarot asked.

“I’m the only one of my people,” Adam admitted, his lips quivering slightly. He pushed away the thoughts for the moment.

Sonarot’s playful smile quickly fell away, leaving a sorrowful frown. “I am sorry to hear that. I wish you a thousand children.”

“Speaking of children,” Adam said, clearing his throat. “I... I have a lot of things to tell you, but I suppose I should speak of my request. I have come to ask for permission to use an Enchanting Shrine.”

Jurot pulled the axe out of his pack, which had been wrapped up in some furs. Adam would have placed it in his pack, but his was full of fear already, as well as his precious spellbook. He unwrapped it, revealing the weapon to his mother, his lips forming a wide grin, proudly presenting it to her.

“What a fine weapon,” Sonarot said, picking it up. She felt the softness of the wood, and noted the patterns, the same patterns she had seen hundreds of times. “Jurot, did you make this handle?” she asked, as though she didn’t already know the answer.

“I did,” he said, nodding his head proudly. Of course his mother would instantly recognise his craftsmanship, though the design of his family was also a dead give away.

“What of the blade?” she said, noting the purple which glinted off the light. She knew Jurot didn’t have such ability, for the blade was definitely of Iyrman make. It held small amounts of puthral, which was hard to work with, but would make the weapon lighter. It was made to be easily thrown, but there was no doubt it could cleave into a man’s skull.

“I made it,” Adam said, smiling slightly.

“You?” she asked, staring at Adam for a moment. ‘How can we know how to work puthral so well?’

“It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” Sonarot stared into Adam’s eyes for a long moment. “For who?”

Adam’s eyes twitched down to her stomach before they returned to Sonarot’s eyes. “For Lana.”

For Lana.

Sonarot smiled slightly, but her mind was keenly aware of all the weapons nearby. The blade at the half elf’s side, as well as the warhammer. There was Jurot and his axes, who would be able to match the half elf, and would react at her word in an instant. Then there was Argon, who had his greatsword at his back, and more than likely was fiddling with one of the many gems of the Iyr which would restrain Adam.

‘Should we kill him?’

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Wait.

Jurot didn't die before he met his mother?

???