[766] – Y03.066 – Trouble at Port III

[766] – Y03.066 – Trouble at Port III

‘What has you so confident, Iyrman?’ William thought, his eyes glued to the Iyrman who was giving off such a terrible aura. The captain’s fingers twitched slightly, almost reaching for his blade. He vaguely recalled the rules when dealing with an Iyrman and the caution which was often advised.

Jurot remained silent for a long moment, and seeing as the Captain was allowing him the long moment, it meant there was still a possibility to avoid bloodshed. Often times, Iyrmen did not look for bloodshed, but they did welcome it. It was awkward, however, for both paths were valid, and often advised. When an Iyrman wanted to fight, they fought. When an Iyrman didn’t want to fight, which was either often or little, they did not unless forced.

Jurot reached into his shirt, causing the Captain to tense at his action, but as the moment passed he revealed the plaque. It was a silver plaque, that kind of silver plaque, which held much sway in Aldland, and even more sway within East Aldland.

William stepped forward, the young man wearing full plate head to toe, but it was his ocean blue cape which commanded more authority, for it was embroidered in a particular manner which denoted his position, a position which could be held by a particular family within Bark Port. He grasped the silver, feeling the ridges of the plaque, so perfectly cut, and the gentle tingle of magic.

“How did you come to possess a silver plaque?” William asked, his voice clear and full of authority.

“The Duchess granted us the plaque,” Jurot said. “She wished to do business with us.”

“What business is that?”

“The United Kindom.”

“...”

“We trade magical items.”

“I see.” William was fairly certain a business like this would be quite valuable for the Duchess, but enough for a silver plaque?

“We work alongside the Enchanter, who currently resides within the Iyr,” Adam explained. “The business will eventually offer bespoke enchanted items to be sold.” Adam tried to leave everything else unspoken, but the words he spoke should have been enough.

William understood just why the business would earn the Duchess’ favour, or rather, the Duchess would try to earn the business’ favour. This business had earned a lifetime of support from one of the greatest forces in the entire land, and so no longer had any wants or desires which couldn’t be fulfilled.

“So what is this trouble being caused within the docks?” William asked, holding onto the plaque still, his eyes falling across the various troublemakers. With so many Iyrmen, things had become rather awkward, when it was meant to be just the Golden Savages and the Hard Thorns.

“We saw there seemed to be a disagreement so we-,” Adam began, feeling Jaygak slap his back.

“There seemed to be a disagreement between our friends of the Golden Savages and the Hard Thorns,” Jaygak said, flashing a smile towards the young nobleman. “We were trying to resolve the matter peacefully.”

Vasera let out a huff, clenching her jaw. Though the drink still fuelled her lust for battle, she knew better than to start a fight now that the guards were about. It was one thing to be a savage, and another to be stupid.

“A disturbance at the docks is not a light matter,” William stated, glaring at the party. “Were blades drawn?”

Jaygak glanced towards Vasera, whose hand was firmly placed against her magical blade, while the Thorns remained standing tall and tense, though they had yet to reach for their blades. “It appears not.”

William fell silent for a long moment, feeling the gazes of so many dock workers, as well as all the different sailors, adventurers, and other ne’er do wells. He continued to hold the plaque firmly. “The fee for causing a disturbance at the docks is one gold per head.”

“Okay,” Jaygak replied.

Vasera glanced to the rest of his party, each scattered around. She noticed how the Iyrmen were paired up, and how they were scattered around, keeping an eye on the two groups who had caused such a bother. “How scary are they?”

“They probably won’t mind the rumours of their decline are running rampant around the lands,” Adam said. “No, it might even be beneficial.”

“...” Vasera stared out across the sea. “Aye. That is scary.”

As the day began to pass, Adam spent time speaking with the rest of the Golden Savages too, listening to their tales. They had made the mistake of asking Adam about his own tale from the previous year, allowing him to gush about his children, and the other children.

Meanwhile, those children were busy being children. They spent much of their time playing, but also learning from their elders. Gurot cuddled up to his grandfather’s chest, feeling how warm it was to his cheek. He looked up towards the old man, blinking at him, before he was distracted by freshly cut vegetable his grandmother brought to him.

“Why are you bothering my Gurot when he is resting against his baba?” Jarot grumbled to his wife.

“Gurot must eat,” she replied, simply.

“...” Jarot relented almost instantly, since it was about Gurot and food. “Just because they are doing so well, it does not mean you can hide within their shadows. You must make sure to run forward quickly, my boy.”

“If he does not wish to run so quickly, then he may remain with us,” Mulrot said.

Jarot opened his mouth to complain, but quickly shut it. He pulled the boy further against his chest. “Yes. You may stay with us, Gurot.”

Gurot smiled up towards his baba. “Okay.” He was then distracted by another vegetable from his grandmother’s hand.

Jarot stared down at his grandson. He had begun to spend more time with the boy, who cried so hard and so often for his father. Even though Jirot and Jarot complained that their babo was not playing with them, they eventually stopped crying as others played with them.

‘If only this grandfather of yours had both his arms and legs...’ Jarot pulled the boy closer to his chest, gently rocking from side to side.

“Baba?” Gurot called, gasping in shock.

“Yes?”

Gurot remained staring at his grandfather in shock, before he sucked on his thumb and rested his head against the old man’s chest. He reached out with his other hand to feel the hardness of his grandfather’s muscles.

‘My boy...’

“Baba is stwong.” Gurot smiled up at his grandfather, before returning back to cuddling him.

“Stop making such a face,” Mulrot said, sighing at her husband.

Jarot had felt the head of rage flush through his entire body before he let it go, chuckling wildly. “How can I stay still when my grandson is so cute?”

Mulrot shook her head, before leaning back in her chair. ‘What a fool my husband has become.’ A small smile fell across her lips.

Our chonky boy is cute too.