232. Back To Red Oak

232. Back To Red Oak

"Gold. Gold. So lovely. So beautiful.” Lucy hummed to herself as she played with her gems. She had started off with nearly nothing, and had quickly gained herself hundreds of gold coins. “That Noble guy pays well.”

“Let’s not hope for an easy pay day like that again,” Adam said, sipping some tea. “We’ll have to actually work hard.”

Lucy groaned. “Let’s find another piggy bank Noble to take all their coin.”

Adam threw a look to Vonda. “She’s just joking.”

“No I’m not.”

The group had reconvened in a room which the Guild provided to allow Adventurers to speak with their party members privately. Adam hadn’t explored the Guild much, so had no idea they provided such a service.

Adam cleared his throat. “Anyway. I think it would behoove us us to...” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that the right word? Behoove? I hate talking like this.”

“Then stop it,” Lucy said. “It’s weird.”

“It is cringe,” Jurot said.

“I need to speak in a proper fashion so that we aren’t looked down upon,” Adam said.

“We are an Iyrman, a Devilkin, and a Half Elf,” Jurot said. “Even if we were not Adventurers, we would be looked down upon in this land.”

“Really? From the looks of it, the Iyrmen aren’t looked down upon much.”

“Much. Do not forget Woodknight Dorian and Sir Landon, who have learnt a particular type of history.”

“Who the hell is Woodknight Dorian?” Adam asked, furrowing his brows. The name seemed to familiar to him, and filled him with a morsel of annoyance.

“He joined us with Sir Harvey. He was the young Knight who began to cause trouble with you.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “That guy.”

“You had forgotten?”

“Jurot,” Adam said, shaking his head. “I don’t remember every loser I beat.”

“You did not beat him,” Jurot said.

“I didn’t? That doesn’t sound like me.”

“Vice Master Paul dealt with the matter.”

Adam snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. I remember now.”

Jurot stared at the Half Elf. “Yes.”

“I remember him being weird about me, and I vaguely remember him talking poorly of the Iyr. I guess you’re right. In comparison to how people treat me, the Iyrmen are well loved, mostly.”

“North Aldland treats the Iyrmen quite well, though Red Oak is best,” Jurot said. “South Aldland is usually fine.”

“I remember that time we went to that inn, out there in the wild,” Adam said. “They were pretty terrible too.”

“That is just how it is in the wild.”

“They had their own little operation going too,” Adam said. “On top of that hill, with their own little village and everything.”

Jurot nodded. “It is not so far from here.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, nodding his head as he recalled it. “We came to Ever Green right after, I remember now. “What’s her name? Bertha, right? The cook?”

Jurot nodded. “You remember that much?”

“You can’t forget a name like Bertha,” Adam said, spending half a moment in a day dream about his own little castle and inn. “Or a name like Pam.”

“Whose Pam?” Lucy asked, eating some bread.

“Jurot. What do your Iyrmen eyes see?” Adam asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“Tribesfolk,” Jurot replied. “They will come close, see we are Bronze, and leave.”

The Tribesfolk, who melded to the snow with their cloaks of white, did exactly as Jurot had foretold. They slipped somewhat close, a hundred metres away, causing the party to stop and wait, before the Tribesfolk slipped away.

“How did you know?” Adam asked.

“It is too dangerous for them to face Experts. The price of facing against Bronze Rank Adventurers is too high.”

“What are Tribesfolk exactly?” Adam asked. “I’ve never seen them before.”

“Tribesfolk are those who are not under the official rule of the Kingdom,” Jurot explained.

“There are many who live deep in the wilds,” Sir Vonda said. “No matter the country, there are those who deny the rule of the official rulers, remaining in their small, secluded villages.”

“It is too costly to conquer,” Jurot said. “Previous Kings have tried, but they have only managed to keep their hold for a generation before they were ousted, or before they razed the villages to the ground.”

Adam slowly nodded his head. “I guess I can see that.”

“We will come across many of them,” Jurot said. “We have already come across a few of them. When we travelled from Red Oak to Deadwood, we came across a few Tribesfolk, but they left us be.”

“Ah,” Adam said, recalling it vaguely. “I see.”

The journey back was mostly peaceful, with Adam daring to cast his Tower of Adam spell twice during the evening. Fred and Vonda couldn’t help but feel he was wasting his magic, but dared not to complain, not when they could enjoy a hot bath every evening.

Omen: 2, 13

“Finally,” Adam said, seeing the walls of Red Oak in the distance. “I’ve missed civilization so much.”

“It’s only been a week,” Lucy said. “Don’t sound as though we’ve been trapped outside forever.”

“My tower is good, but it’s no town,” Adam said, sighing with relief. “My feet are killing me. My back hurts. Think of poor Zeus too, he’s been working hard this entire time.” He pat Zeus’ back gently. “It’s alright, Zeus. Even if Lucy doesn’t care about you, I do.”

“Zeus is fine.” Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘He’s meant to be the leader of our party? He’s so embarrassing.’

“Seems like there’s trouble at the gate,” Adam said.

“What did you do this time?” Lucy asked.

Adam shot her a glare. ‘Did I do something?’

At the gates was a figure, with a large pack against their back. They were currently in an exasperated conversation with the Guards.

“I don’t currently have a gold coin, but I assure you, if you allow me to peddle my wares I shall have enough to pay the gate fee and more!”

“No gate fee, no entry, them’s the rules,” a Guard replied. “Should have sold some more before you came here. It’s not like we’re asking for a lot. Pedlars like you need a gold coin to enter, it’s always been like that.”

“I know, but after paying off my Guards, I’ve got no coin to my name. Please, won’t you let me in?”

“You can sleep at the shelter outside and try to pawn your wares to a travelling group. Matter of fact, there’s a group right there.”

The Pedlar turned. He wore thick clothing for Nightval, in a myriad of browns and tans, though his cloth belt was fashioned out of something yellow, with a repeating pattern of red swirls. He wore a pair of spectacles, which were quite small, only two round glasses with a small triangular bridge connecting them.

‘How the hell does he keep those on?’ Adam wondered.

The young man stared at Fate’s Golden. There was an Iyrman, a man in puthral armour, a Devilkin, a man in chain, and a Priest of Life.

He sighed. ‘Who here is going to buy my trinkets?’ the Pedlar thought.

Upon seeing the thoughts on is face, Jurot and Lucy turned their gazes to Adam.

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This Pedlar about to make BANK.