Y03 – 720. The Village

Y03 – 720. The Village

Omen: 13, 19

“Oh,” Adam said, looking upon the isle between the rivers, where roughly a hundred Iyrmen were beginning to outline the walls, using various poles and strings to measure the walls. ‘Right, they said it was going to be done around noonval so I guess they would start pretty soon. A fort in four and a half months? That’s pretty cool.’

They approached the small fenced village across the river, the villagers nearby noting the arrival of the Iyrman and the queer half elf in the Iyrman’s purple steel. An older woman approached to greet the group. She was short, barely reaching Adam’s chest with the top of her head. She wore thick furs around her body, as well as a set of scale around her chest, which also fell down her waist, and a belt wrapped around her front to keep her armour pinned to her. An axe hung against her belt, though she wielded her trusty spear in hand.

“I see you’ve decided to come out of hiding,” Chief Merl said, flashing a smile towards the group.

“I never said I was a smart man, chief,” Adam replied, flashing his own smile back towards her. “How have you been?”

“Well, thank you. The Iyr has sent so many warriors to protect us during the last few months. I thought the closed gates would have caused us to worry, but the Iyr has always watched over us.” She motioned a hand for them to enter the village.

Adam reached into his pouch, but Merl reached for his hand, slapping it away from his pouch. “What? My leaf ear coin no longer good enough for you?”

Merl tightened her hand on her spear. “Stop it, you!” She raised her brows in shock, but they shifted, as though daring him to continue.

“I’ll just have Nobby slip a gem to your granddaughter, surely she won’t refuse the gem from her future husband.”

“They should have married last year so I can see my great grandchildren,” Merl stated, nodding her head as she led the group towards the centre of the village. Though the village held the same population as the Iyr, the air was so different. The wooden fence, the commonfolk working lightly in the fields and their gardens, with very few rushing to anywhere in particular.

“Does Merl still want to marry Nobby?” Adam asked.

“That was the deal she made.”

“I’m not one to enforce that sort of deal,” Adam replied, clearing his throat. “If she has someone else in mind, she shouldn’t be forced into marrying Nobby.”

“She’ll be quite lucky to marry Nobby.”

“That she is,” Adam replied. “That she is.”

“Are you taking him out to make him a Master?” Merl asked, her eyes playfully teasing the half elf.

“That’s harder to do in a single year,” Adam admitted. “I’m not even a Master yet, even I I can probably take one in a fight.”

Merl continued to smile, though it faltered for a moment, realising Adam was probably serious about the statement. Who else but Adam could say something that ridiculous and mean it? “You lost against the King’s Sword’s daughter, didn’t you?”

“I surrendered after I beat her up, yeah,” Adam corrected, smirking slightly.

“...” Merl had heard the tale a few times, at least ten times in the last month considering the arrival of those Iyrmen. Her eyes fell to the other subject of their tale, Jurot, the one who had placed first within the Noonval Tournament. Then it flashed between Kitool, who had placed second, and Nobby, who placed first in another segment. ‘...’

“So this is where you’ll all been hanging out,” Adam said upon seeing the group of Iyrmen. “This entire time your...” Adam’s eyes then fell to Bavin. “Hey, Bavin.”

“Hello,” the Iyrman replied.

Adam could barely recognise the young Iyrman, who had short dark hair, and carried an axe at his side, the Vin family weapon. Adam swore the young man had grown at least an inch, and his body was thicker with muscle. He was no Nobby, even if the pair were nearly identical in their meekness.

“I didn’t expect...” Adam smiled warmly, patting his shoulder gently. “I’m glad to see you, Bavin.”

“Okay.”

Adam frowned, noting the doubt within their eyes.

“You will not fight with the nobles?” Nirot asked.

Adam inhaled deeply before looking to Jurot for support. “Jurot, how can she say that to me?”

“Adam will try,” Jurot replied, though he said no more about the topic.

“I’m nice to nobles,” Adam stated, as though it were true. “Sometimes. I mean, I treat Sir Vonda nicely, most of the time.”

“It is true,” Vonda said, smiling from behind her scarf.

“See?”

“Sir Vonda does not count, since she is a member of the Order of Life’s Rose,” Jaygak said. “Who is not nice to such a figure?”

“What about Lady Sara?” Adam asked, throwing a look to the Aswadian devilkin, who had a gem embedded within her forehead. “I’m nice to you, aren’t I?”

“Adam is right,” Lady Sara replied. “One might wonder why he only behaves politely with young, beautiful, single noblewomen, but that is not the point.”

“Hey!” Adam replied, flushing slightly redder. “Just because that’s true, it doesn’t mean there’s anything to it. I’ve been nice to noblemen too. I mean, think about...” Adam thought to the nobles he was polite to, a slim list, and then the nobles who were men. “Sir Landon?”

“You’ve threatened him several times.”

“Only now and again,” Adam replied. “Just a bit of banter, that’s all. Well, what about Lord Strom?”

“He doesn’t count, since he had given up his title at the time,” Jaygak said.

“Okay, well, Lord Morkarai?”

“You beat him.”

“Yeah, but he’s my friend.”

“Is he?”

“That’s why he gave us that really nice shield he made yesterday,” Adam retorted. “Anyway, anyway, look. Enough messing around. I can’t help but be cringe if you’re going to amplify it.”

Amira exchanged a look with Dunes. She had spent the least amount of time with the half elf, though they did meet when he had spent several thousand gold freeing her from working in the mines.

Dunes merely replied with the same smile.

Once the group had gathered in the centre, the Iyrmen began to speak of a tale, while Adam relaxed near the fire, drinking his grain wine mixed with fruit juice. He glanced between his companions, from the demons, to the Aldishmen, to the Iyrmen, to the Aswadians.

‘Right, I should probably equip them all in plate mail when I have the chance. I have enough gold for it now. Why didn’t I do that before we left?’ The young half elf pulled out a book from within his robe, writing down the note to himself for the future.

‘I need to make a deal with Chief Merl too...’ Adam swallowed, thinking about his future workers. ‘I can’t just let them all starve to death. Need some drinks for them all too. Won’t they need entertainment too?’ Adam let out a long sigh. ‘Why did I decide to be in charge? Damn it...’

I will not promise Adam will become less cringe this year, but I promise he will try.