632. A Storm Of Trouble III

632. A Storm Of Trouble III

Omen: 1, 18

“Hmmm,” Adam stared at Shaool, wondering if maybe he had joked too close to the sun while so near to the Iyr. He eyed up the other Iyrmen nearby, recognising a couple of familiar faces, from Rasam to Okvar, and then the Iyrman with the skull across their face.

“We have heard you had brought an important guest,” Shaool said, smiling politely towards the Half Elf.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, smiling awkwardly in return. “You’re never going to believe me.”

“When it comes to you, many things are not unbelievable,” Shaool stated. “Who is this guest of yours?”

“Jurot, you wanna tell your grandaunt?” Adam said, motioning with his head. “You’re the one who confirmed it.”

‘Jurot,’ Shaool thought. What could it be that Adam would leave it to Jurot to speak of. The pair stepped to one side, and after Jurot whispered something in their tongue, just two words, Shaool slowly nodded her head and returned back to the group. ‘Of course.’

Adam raised his brows, his eyes knowing, and he sighed lightly. “Yeah.”

“We will confirm the matter in the Front Iyr,” Shaool said. “The gates have opened for you, Adam.”

“What about the others?”

“They may step within the Iyr’s lands too,” she confirmed.

“Phew.”

She looked out to the rest of his group, noting that the number of Aswadians had increased, though it didn’t seem like he was going to introduce them. “Who are your companions?”

“Oh, this is Korin, and Lady Sara, and Amira,” Adam said, motioning back to the group. “They’re from the Order of Black Mountain.”

“Welcome,” Shaool said, bowing her head lightly to the young warriors of the order, which the Iyr had some relations with. “I must confirm, if you are to step within the Iyr’s lands now, you may not be able to leave for some time.”

The Aswadians exchanged glances. They had never heard of the Iyr doing something like this previously.

“It is understandable,” Lady Sara replied. “Dunes has sent word that we will be unavailable for some time.”

“The wisdom of the Black Mountain is well known,” Shaool stated, bowing her head once more.

Crowseer sat awkwardly, trying to find a good point to step in to speak. However, Shaool continued to check up on Adam’s group, with the older Iyrmen remaining to one side. It wasn’t until the appearance of a particular Iyrman when the Iyrmen finally acknowledged the great figure.

He was an older man, with long hair which had been dyed red, though streaks of white peeked through. He was clean shaven, with a strong jaw, a wide, flat nose, and small eyes. He was fairly lean for an older man, and walking with the floating grace of a butterfly. He was dressed in the finest of silks, black like starless night, with golden thread which darted all along the hem, the thread forming some kind of pattern. At his side was a longsword, made of a fusion of bone and metal.

Adam was about to call out to him, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Crowseer. ‘Is he a bigger threat than me?’ Adam frowned slightly, before realising how good that news was. ‘Phew.’

The Front Iyr Elder stared down at the group. A silver fox of a man, with a chiselled jaw, and greyish hair which fell to his shoulders. At his side was a flail, though none could think it was impractical, as his Adventurer’s tag hung loosely across his bare chest, glinting the blueish silver of mithril. His eyes soaked in the entire group. He had received word that Adam had brought a special guest, and his eyes fell to Crowseer, who was quite the special guest.

“The gates are closed,” Elder Lykan said, staring down at them. Shaool raised her hand, placing it over her temple. Elder Lykan motioned with his head. "You may approach, Shaool.”

The gates were opened ever so slightly, allowing Shaool to slip through, and after a short while, she appeared beside Lykan, whispering something in their tongue. Lykan’s eyes then fell to Umbra. Shaool had just given him a greater reason to refuse their entry, but if it was really true, then it meant that...

“Okay,” Elder Lykan said, and the gates opened, slowly, loudly, as though to remind them that these gates were not to be trifled with.

Adam blinked. ‘Oh, right.’ He had forgotten that the Front Iyr had changed, with walls almost as impressive as the walls of the Main Iyr. A large mass of Iyrmen awaited for them, most quite old, and some in their teens. The large estates welcomed the group as they made their way through the new Front Iyr, which had been restructured to allow a quick response to any threat which may come for them.

The group were taken towards the fire in the centre, where many guests relaxed, sipping and drinking wine as they chatted. Adam saw Burgwing and Wingburg, who were tensed up, staring in their direction. ‘Where’s Wiseraith and Stokmar?’

“So you’ve returned!” a familiar voice called out. Slightly taller than the average person, adorned head to toe in plate mail made of flamedarksteel, which betrayed his rank among the Fire Giants.

“That I did,” Adam said, reaching out to shake his forearm. “I see you’re well, Lord Morkarai.”

“I am,” the Fire Giant confirmed. “And you?”

“Pretty good,” Adam replied, nodding his head slowly. “How have you been? Working hard, I hope?”

“I hope the Iyr will agree that I am,” Morkarai replied, chuckling lightly. “I am keeping my end of the deal.”

“I’m sure you are.” Adam chuckled. “Have you been adoring the children while I’ve been gone?”

“I’ve been too busy working.”

“I thought we were friends,” Adam replied, frowning slightly.

Morkarai smiled. “It will only mean they will enjoy it more when you adore them.”

“...” Adam slowly nodded his head, narrowing his eyes. “You know what, Lord Morkarai? You’re on to something with that.”

“So, you’ve returned,” called a familiar voice beside them, the beardless Dwarf woman, though she was neither a Dwarf nor a woman. “I smell something good.”

“Yeah?” Adam said, almost continuing, before shuddering. ‘No, Lord Stokmar would actually kill me if I made a joke like that.’

“Where’s the ale you promised me?” Lord Stokmar asked.

“The ale that I...” Adam blinked. ‘Oh no.’ Adam, with all the chaos of what had happened, had completely forgotten about the barrel of ale he had promised to the Lord of Earth, the only figure which could clash against the greatest of figures in the world. ‘Oh fuck.’

Oh no.