459. A Cold Nightval

Name:Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG Author:
459. A Cold Nightval

Omen: 5, 15

Adam rubbed his pulsing forehead. He had drunk so much in the evening last night, but he didn’t remember anything past a certain point. As he tried to recall the previous evening, a tail smacked him across the face.

‘Do you think just because you’re cute, I’ll let you hit daddy?’ Adam glared down at his child, before she turned to face him, and his face instantly changed. “Of course I’ll let you hit me as much as you like.”

Adam sighed. The festival was finally over, which meant he would need return to work. He hadn’t enchanted in so long, and his body was aching to work hard to make coin.

Light rain drizzled across the Iyr in the morning, soft music to the ears of the Iyrmen. The Ool family cooked that day, as it was their turn, though Sonarot assisted them.

The triplets devoured the fish which Citool had brought for them, having deboned the creatures, allowing them to eat to their heart’s content. Adam ate quickly, eating only a light meal, before checking up on the twins.

“You will enchant?” Sonarot asked.

“Yeah, I need to get back to it,” he said. “I took the week off for the festival so I’m behind, and I need the coin for some stuff.”

“I wish you good luck, Adam,” she said, rubbing his head. “I will watch over your children today.”

“Thank you.” Adam smiled. Out of everyone here, he trusted Sonarot the most, perhaps even an eek more than Jurot.

Elder Zijin looked up at the Half Elf, covering the books he was reading, each of which were filled with information about the Iyr’s warehouse situation. “What have you done this time?”

“That’s slander, Elder Zijin,” Adam joked. “I’ve come to ask for twenty weapons to enchant.”

“Only twenty this month?” Elder Zijin asked, his lips forming a wide smirk. “Are you finally going to relax?”

“What are you talking about?” Adam refuted, crossing his arms. “I’ll have you know that I didn’t enchant the entirety of the last week!”

Elder Zijin chuckled, before he quickly stopped. ‘You did not enchant for the entire week?’ Zijin tried to recall the last week. There had been much more work than typical thanks to Adam’s antics, from trying to fight with the Lord of Flames, to fighting, and beating, the Prince of the Fire Giants.

Yet, in all those antics, he did not enchant once.

Adam did not enchant once during the duskval festival.

‘Does this go in the black book?’ Zijin thought. ‘I cannot believe you did not enchant.’

“What’s with that look?” Adam asked.

Zijin’s face returned back to its typical slyness. “What look?”

“Are you going to lie to me?”

“You seem to be well to ask for death so easily, Adam.” Zijin smiled, before writing down a note, handing Adam a token which represented his authority. “The weapons will be prepared.”

“Since you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll let you go this one time,” Adam said, accepting the paper and the token.

Adam had decided to spend the entire month enchanting. The Iyr had asked him to enchant, and though there was still Sonarot to deal with, he could at least work nine to five, five days a week, with the weekend off.

He stopped at the warehouse, the Iyrman in charge of it raising his brow at the Half Elf.

Adam stared up at the sky, allowing the gentle rain to pelt him in the face. ‘I get a bunch of kids and go right to working like the average guy. Will the Iyr give me my paid month leave? No, no. I doubt it. Still, aren’t I making something like... ten grand a day?’

The Iyrmen paid him a hundred gold for one weapon which he enchanted with only the base enchantment, so they could enchant the rest themselves. Technically he could have charged closer to three hundred, but the Iyr was the Iyr, and Adam appreciated the bonuses which came from the Iyrmen.

‘Isn’t it like fifty gold a month for experts? So I could work just one weekend and earn more than Fred might working a whole month?’ Thinking of it that way, Adam realised just how fortunate he was.

“Man,” Adam began, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I love the Iyr.”

The Iyrman at the warehouse stared at the Half Elf, who carried at his side an axe, and spoke so queerly. When they noted the message he had brought, they realised who this young man was. There was only one person who was so queer in the Iyr, and he was Unrivalled Under The Heavens.

Jurot remained silent, falling into thought.

Jaygak stared at the Iyrman she had grown up alongside. ‘How can you be such a bad influence, Adam? Jurot, who doesn’t think about anything, is thinking so deeply about something so stupid...’ Jaygak frowned. ‘It should have been me!’

“Do not beat her up,” Jurot said.

Tariel wrote quickly, though still somehow beautifully.

Can he?

Jurot thought back to Lord Morkarai, but Tariel was someone who had certain abilities which could prove troublesome to the other Half Elf. Then, having realised he had thought so much, he realised the answer was much more simple than he could have imagined.

“Yes.”

“I’m pretty strong, you know?” Adam said, lifting up his child with ease as if to prove the point.

I’m strong too.

“Yes, but I’m stronger,” Adam said, simply.

How strong?

“I’ve lost to that old geezer,” Adam said, nodding his head to Jarot, “but I’ve beaten Lord Morkarai.” It was the truth, though he left out the context.

Tariel blinked. She looked to Jurot, tapping the question mark she had written during the conversation.

Jurot nodded.

Tariel’s lips formed a small circle, the shock striking her deep. She reached down into her robes and pulled out the first book she had arrived in the Iyr with. She flipped through the pages before finding the required page, which held a single word.

Wow!

“Anyway, what are you doing here?” Adam asked. He had seen her during the festival, but they hadn’t spent much time together.

Tariel pulled out her more recent book, flipping to a page. She tapped the page.

Cause trouble.

She gasped, covering her mouth, flipping to a new page.

I just want to say Hello.

Adam furrowed his brows. “Jurot, did she just pretend as though she misspoke and then correct herself?”

“Yes.”

“There’s only room for one unfunny Half Elf here, Tariel.”

I am funny.

“Adam is funny too,” Jurot said. “Sometimes.”

“Really?” Adam asked, shocked.

“It is rare.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “It’s only the first day of nightval, but you’re already so cold.”

Click banner for Patreon!

Damn, Jurot. I can't believe you'd say either of those things.