512. The Village
Omen: 4, 6
Jurot stepped into a building, one which had been changed from the last time he had been invited to it. A silver fox of an Iyrman waited for him while he sipped tea. As Jurot approached, he pushed forward a tray of snacks. He jaw was chiselled, as though Iromin had carved it out of marble. Greyish hair fell down to his shoulders. At a side was a flail, though none could think it was impractical, for the tag which hung loosely across his chest glinted the blueish silver of mithril.
“Elder Lykan,” Jurot greeted.
“Jurot,” the Elder replied, reaching into his robes, taking out a letter, sealed with red wax. The colour of the paper, the texture, the colour of the wax, the way it was stamped, the way the letter had been folded, it all meant something to those who would receive it.
Jurot picked up the letter and slid it into his furs, keeping it safe against his chest. It was the safest place the letter could be. “Okay.”
Without explaining anything, Lykan bowed his head, dismissing the young man. Jurot left, asking the Front Iyr Elder nothing. He was an Iyrman. He had been entrusted a matter that needed to be dealt with, and that was that.
Adam double, triple, and quadruple checked everything. He had more than enough money, most of it in gems. “Do you guys have your diamonds?” Adam asked, glancing at his companions. Vonda, Dunes, Kitool, and Jurot had all been given a diamond worth hundreds of gold, just in case something happened. Adam also had one of the diamonds, which could be used to quickly bring back the dead.
“We do, Adam,” Vonda said, for the second time that day, but not the second time that week.
Ignoring the gems used to bringing back the dead, as well as those used for spells, they had easily three hundred gold in the party fund, and Adam personally brought roughly three hundred gold too. He glanced around, noting all the members of the party. There were a lot of them now, so their daily expenses would be quite high.
Fortunately, the Iyr handed them a crate of food, which Jurot had strapped to his back. Somehow, he seemed fine carrying the crate, though it held about a month’s worth of dried food for the entire group.
‘I could always use Goodberry, I suppose,’ Adam thought. ‘One Mana to feed ten people isn’t a terrible deal. Two Mana will deal with most everyone. Though, I suppose I shouldn’t rely too much on my magic?’
Once Adam prepared himself mentally, with one last look towards the Iyr, the group set off. Adam and the trio of Iyrmen led the way, with Fred and Jonn covering their rear. The rolling hills of the Iyr had given away to the gentle plains ahead, the forest on the horizon.
The village was a welcome sight, the wooden walls wrapping around it like a protective blanket, and compared to the Iyr, the walls seemed no better than such. The village guards squinted their eyes towards the large group, and noting its size and the purple armour, they realised which group this small army belonged to.
“Chief Merl!” Adam called, noting the older woman. She was short, barely able to reach Adam’s chest with the top of her head, and in her fifties. She was bundled within thick furs, wearing a scale mail over her torso, a belt wrapped around it to keep it pinned to her. An axe to her side, but a spear in hand.
“You’ve come again,” she said, eyeing up the other Iyrmen, bowing her head to them. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”
“The pleasure is all ours,” Adam insisted, shaking her forearm. “The Undead cause you any trouble?”
“With Iyrmen at our sides? Not at all.”
“Iyrmen?” Adam asked. “Are they still in the village?”
“Some,” Merl replied, glancing past him. “I heard the Iyr closed its gates. Dark news. I’ve never heard the Iyr do anything like that before.” Merl rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the terrible thoughts coming to her mind. She had heard old tales of the Iyrmen, when they had warned the nearby villages of their assault. “Is everything alright?”
“The Iyr is well,” Jurot confirmed.
“A shame with the war and all,” Merl said, changing the topic quickly. She had been the Chief since she was young, and being the Chief of the village right at the Iyr’s borders, understood how to act when it came to the Iyrmen. “Do you have anyone fighting in the war?”
“My grandfather,” Jurot said.
“You probably saw him,” Adam added. “He’s got one arm.”
“Yes, I remember him,” Merl said, thinking back to when the group made their way through the village. She narrowed her eyes slightly as an older, long forgotten memory. “I think I met your grandfather when he was a young man. I had just become the Chief when he passed by. He was one of the wildest Iyrmen I had seen at the time. He carried with him a...”
Adam picked up the red shield at his back. “A red shield?”
“Yes, a shield just like that one,” she admitted.
“Please,” Adam said.
“Your children, are they being raised in the Iyr?” Merl asked.
“They are. For now.”
“Do they accept Goblins in the Iyr?”
Adam smiled, though it faltered for a moment. “Apparently so. My Aunt, Jurot’s mother, treats them like they are her grandchildren.”
“They are mother’s grandchildren,” Jurot said, settling himself down near Adam. “They are my nieces and nephews.”
Adam looked to Merl, shrugging his shoulders. “It is what it is, I suppose.”
“It’s good fortune for your children to be raised within the Iyr,” Merl said. “They will grow well.”
“They should remain small and cute forever,” Adam replied, sternly.
Merl sighed, but smiled. She had met Adam a few times over the last couple of years, but she was certain she understood him. “I will leave you to your business.”
“You don’t want to hear about my children?” Adam asked. “Jirot keeps bullying me, Chief. How can she do that to her father?”
Merl retreated, leaving Adam be. Adam smiled to Jurot. “I’ve found a way to keep out of trouble. I can just gush about my children and annoy people away.”
“Okay,” Jurot replied, unsure of what to say.
Adam glanced around to the rest of the group. ‘Right. I’m representing the Enchanter now, so I probably should be more mature.’ “We need to quest a bunch this year to gain more strength, and to make more money. I don’t have much in the party funds.”
“There is still money within the bank,” Kitool said.
“The bank?”
“You placed some coin within the bank since it was too much to carry.”
“I did?” Adam thought. “That sounds too smart for me. How much is in the bank?”
“Over one thousand gold.”
Adam whistled. “Jurot, am I a genius?”
“There are times when you are wise,” the Iyrman admitted.
Adam narrowed his eyes. “Then I guess we’re a little more free than I expected. We should figure out what to do once we’re in Red Oak.”
Red Oak, which was the nearest town to the village and the Iyr, and a part of South Aldland.
South Aldland, which was under the rule of a new king, King Harold Merryweather, and currently rebelling against Aldland.
‘I wonder if the merchant is there.’
Adam is simultaneously 200IQ and 20IQ.