[983] – Y04.083 – Confrontation I

[983] – Y04.083 – Confrontation I

“Stop it! Stop it now! Smelly boy!” Jirot pointed a finger up at Danagek, who pouted, and made to cry, only to stop as his father pulled him up.

“Are you bullying your niece?” Tonagek asked. “Or is your niece bullying you?” His eyes fell down to Jirot.

“I am not! I am not!” Jirot frowned, pouting, and glanced around for support.

“What happened?”

“I did not bully!”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jirot asked, blinking. “Okay.”

Tonagek held out his hand for the girl, who waddled over and placed her small hand within his, feeling how rough his skin was. Jirot blinked at the old man, who was the brother of her grandmother, like how Jarot was brother to her.

“What happened?” Tonagek asked, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of the girl’s hand.

“Papo is coming to play, but he cannot!”

“Why not?”

“We are playing with Jitool!”

“You will not play with Danagek?”

“It is not time for playing with Danagek,” the girl replied.

“Why not?”

“It is time to play with Jitool.”

“I see.” Tonagek fell into thought. “Will you play with Danagek later?”

“Yes, I want to play with Danagek. We can play and then we can eat. Danagek always so lovely, he always give me fruit.”

‘Ah?’ Tonagek thought. “Okay, I will play with Danagek.”

“Baba, you want to play too?”

Tonagek blinked. “I wish to play with you.”

“Okay! Baba and papo can play.” Jirot pulled the older man along with her to her twin brother and kako.

‘Ah?’ Tonagek thought. ‘It is not that she does not wish to play, but it must feel right to play?’

While Tonagek thought so deeply of his grandniece, who had finally returned to the Iyr, her father accidentally caused a mess elsewhere.

“That sounds too good to be true,” Jane said, a young woman with black hair and dark eyes. She wore breastplate over chain, and carried a blade at her side.

“A bunch o’ poppycock!” another shouted, laughing. “You’d find a more believable story in the docks.”

“Like I said,” Adam began, glancing aside to the thick, drunken fellow whose laughter almost drowned out his voice, “we work for the Enchanter, and they’re the ones that allow these great, and generous, terms.”

“Yeah, and my mother owns the docks,” the drunken fellow said.

‘What with him and the docks?’ “Anyway, if you’re someone whose already Steel in the Guild, then we’d start you out a little higher, twenty gold, but once you pass through the training, which should last three to six month, you’ll get paid thirty gold a month.”

‘It’s not a terrible wage, especially if he’s promising a magical weapon with it later on...’ Jane thought.

“My brother wields a weapon that makes even mine look like... well, mine is like a tiger, while his is a... no wait, mine is a bear, and his is a tiger.”

“Are tigers stronger than bears?” Jane asked.

“I think so? I don’t know. Anyway, what I mean is, mine is strong, but my brother’s is stronger. Actually, you said you recognised me from the tournament, so you should know my brother. Jurot, he’s the guy that placed first, and Kitool, who placed second, she also has a weapon from the Enchanter.”

“I thought Sir Roseia placed first.”

“In the martial only section.”

“Oh! The Savage?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Steel Kick Kitool, wasn’t it?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’ll bet my axe.”

“We refuse.”

“You refuse? Do you understand the situation you’re in, boy?”

“You do not know the situation you are in,” Jurot said. “Together, our companions, can defeat you.”

“All six of you? The Iyrmen, the half elf, the demons?”

‘Demons?’ the thought passed through the inndwellers.

“We can defeat you,” Jurot said, his voice assured.

Battle Order

D20 + 1 = 11 (10)

Health: 112 -> 59

It all happened so suddenly.

In the time between the bead of sweat had fallen down from Adam’s jaw and onto his shirt, leaving a trail of dampness along his clothes, the shaft of the axe had struck against Adam’s elbow and side. Jurot had managed to block the magical steel with Phantom, barely deflecting it away from the half elf’s skin.

‘What the hell?’ Adam thought, crashing against the side of the counter, before swiftly scrambling up to his feet. His arm throbbed with pain, but he gripped Wraith tight in hand, pushing away his thoughts.

“Fine, then,” Adam said, inhaling deeply.

Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2

Health: 59 -> 64

Attack - Wizard’s Axe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 11 = 16 (5)

D20 + 11 = 23 (12)

Hit!

Mana: 25 -> 24

Ability: Divine Smite

2D6 + 2D6 + 9 = 25 (6)(10)

Damage resisted!

17 damage!

Attack - Wizard’s Axe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 11 = 17 (6)

D20 + 11 = 31 (20)

Critical hit!

Wraith: 3 -> 0

Mana: 24 -> 20

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 12D6 + 10D6 + 9 = 102 (9)(48)(36)

Damage resisted!

69 damage!

Onward Soar: 1 -> 0

Attack - Wizard’s Axe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 11 = 24 (13)

D20 + 11 = 30 (19)

Critical hit!

Mana: 20 -> 16

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 10D6 + 9 = 49 (14)(26)

Damage resisted!

38 damage!

Attack - Wizard’s Axe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 11 = 13 (2)

D20 + 11 = 28 (17)

Hit!

Mana: 16 -> 15

Ability: Divine Smite

2D6 + 2D6 + 9 = 15 (4)(2)

Damage resisted!

8 damage!

Tough Spirit: 1 -> 0

2D6 + 8 = 14 (1, 5)

Health: 64 -> 78

Adam focused upon the Noskan, bursting red with rage. The half elf’s axe carved through the air as he focused, clashing with the Rage Dancer, while Jurot flanked beside him, and Kitool’s shadowy form blurred beside him. A pair of axes fell against the Noskan, and the staff crashed against him as Kitool willed her inner strength into the Noskan, trying to freeze him in place so they could defeat him.

The Noskan’s focus had been upon the half elf, who had spoken of this mythical business, one where they seemed to apparently look after their own. The flashes of memories, the charred buildings, the blade through his side, slipped through his mind. He roared, and though he had barely recognised the tattoos on the Iyrman’s forehead, of the blue circle and diamonds, he cared very little. He wanted this half elf put down, and even if some crazy Iyrman’s grandson struck him, he didn’t even bother to think of much else.

Except, he had also ignored the other Iyrman. As her staff crashed against him, the young woman also struck him through his side, at a particular point, exploding forth her inner energy. He had blocked it out. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Eight times. That’s how may times Kitool could force her inner energy into someone. It had been seven not long ago, but now, she could do so eight times.

Piercing through his great fortitude had been difficult. The first time, she had failed. The second time, she had failed. The third time, the fourth time? Failure.

The fifth time?

The fifth time, the Noskan, as he swung his greataxe, threatening to bisect the half elf without his armour, froze in place.

Jane and the Noskan hadn’t realised that Kitool was not the same Kitool as she was within the tournament. In the tournament, the woman did not use the staff within her hands, the staff that had certainly would have allowed her to defeat even Jurot.

“Step back, Adam,” Jaygak said, noting how Adam had paused, unsure of what to do. “The fight is over.”

“Yeah?” Adam asked, noting the way the frozen Noskan continued to rage, even after having been beaten. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Jaygak drew her blade, and with a single swipe, she tore into the Noskan’s frozen front, barely cutting through a layer of flesh as her blade swam through the air, while Kitool’s staff crashed against him once more.

The redness faded to white, almost like fresh snow, and the Noskan fell to the ground, still.

Victory!

XP Gained: +1000

XP: 0 -> 1 000

Adam could feel the way his heart pounding, and now that the adrenaline began to fade, he felt the ache at his shield arm and his side, which had been bruised so terribly.

“Adam, heal him lightly,” Jurot said.

“Alright.”

Lay on Hands: 40 -> 39

Quest Complete: A Refusal of Death

XP Gained: +100

XP: 1 000 -> 1 100



Well that escalated quickly.