Omen: 7, 11

“I’m sorry for bothering you, Adam,” the woman in breastplate said.

“It’s fine,” Adam replied sipping some tea.

The pair sat opposite one another in a private room at the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Vice Master Paul has revealed to me your abilities in Alchemy. I hear you are able to make powerful Health Potions?”

“Yes,” Adam replied, simply. “Actually, I made my best one the other day.”

Adam retrieved his pack, opening up a pouch within it, and revealed the Health Potion.

The woman dipped her finger into it, tasting the potion. The tingly sensation betrayed how powerful it was.

“You made this?”

“That I did,” Adam said, smiling. “Took me a day.”

“Excuse me?”

“A day.”

“A day?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you say a day?”

“Yes.”

“One day?”

“Yes.”

She stared at Adam, her eyelashes fluttering.

"You can ask Jurot, I think I went with him to buy some herbs,” Adam said. “Did I? Actually, I’m not sure. I think I did. Even so, you can ask my party that I usually take a day to make them.”

She wasn’t sure if she should believe Adam, but considering what he had revealed to her, she couldn’t help but feel this was only scratching the surface.

“Wow,” she whispered. “If you can make such a great potion within a single day, I have no doubt you are a great Alchemist.”

“If you say stuff like that my ego’ll become even bigger,” Adam said, chuckling. “I was just really lucky that day. If Fate isn’t on my side, then I can’t make a decent potion.”

“Are you feeling lucky today?”

“No,” Adam admitted.

“Would you be willing to tell me when you are feeling lucky? I would be willing to reward you handsomely.”

“I am pretty handsome, aren’t I?” Adam chuckled, rubbing his chin with a smug smile. “That’s the Elvish blood in me, I think.”

The woman awkwardly smiled towards him.

“Don’t worry, it’s for the little Princess isn’t it?” Adam said, chuckling.

“Thank you again, Adam,” the woman said.

“Any time.”

She stared at Adam long and hard. “In your dream, did we succeed?”

Adam smiled. “You did.”

The woman’s lips formed the smallest of smiles. “The Vice Master seems to have a lot of trust in you.”

“He shouldn’t,” Adam said.

Her brows raised in surprised. “Why is that?”

“I’m a bunch of trouble,” Adam said, smiling wide. “There’s no doubt I’ll come to blows with even more Nobles in my time, and when I do, I’ll be sure to cry to good ol’ Vice Master Paul.” Adam winked.

The woman smiled slightly. “It sounds like you trust him.”

“Of course I do,” Adam said. “He’s married to an Iyrman. Anyone close to an Iyrman is trustworthy to me.”

“I have heard you are a Nephew of the Iyr. Does that mean you’re trustworthy?”

“Maybe?” Adam said. “I do my best to be trustworthy, but I’m not sure if I am trustworthy.”

The woman let out a soft sigh, before reaching down to her necklace, before she shifted from a Human woman to a Half Elf woman. Her red hair was short, cut into a bob, like liquid ruby. Her ears were like his own, and most surprising of all were her faint tattoos across her face.

“Elowen!” Adam gasped, his eyes wide. “Sorry, Lady-“

Elowen placed a hand on his face. “Yes,” she said. “You must understand why we’re moving through this land in disguise.”

Adam nodded his head as she pulled her hand away. “That makes sense. It is quite a pain, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately so,” she said.

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“Are you from the same group of Elves?”

“No,” Lady Elowen said. “We are to the south of Aswadasad.”

“Ah,” Adam said, nodding his head. “Once the Princess is safe and well, I might head down that way to say hello, if I’m allowed to?”

“If you manage to help us, I will speak on your behalf,” she said.

“I’d appreciate it,” Adam said. ‘She’s a Noble, which means that it’s neither a yes or a no.’

Jurot had waited for Adam in the common room. “Are your ready?”

Adam nodded. “Let’s go.”

Adam did not wear his helmet, revealing his Elvish ears to the world, though he did continue to wear his breastplate, and he kept his Lightsear and die close at hand, just in case.

The pair walked around the town, with a large amount of attention being drawn to them. Adam’s ears twitched as he felt all the stares.

“You there!” called a voice from aside.

Adam tensed up, seeing a young woman dart up beside them.

‘Of course I can’t catch a break,’ Adam thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. He exhaled, wondering what she was going to do.

“Would you mind coming with me?” the young woman asked, her eyes beaming at Jurot.

‘Is Jurot being seduced?’

Adam kept his jaw glued together, his eyes growing wide.

“What is it that you need?” Jurot asked.

“My little brother has always wanted to meet an Iyrman,” she said. “He hasn’t had the chance yet.”

‘Do you really think we’ll believe that?’

“Very well,” Jurot said, his lips twitching upwards.

‘Jurot!’

“This way, please.” The woman wrapped her arms around Jurot’s arm and quickly pulled him away.

Adam followed after, his eyes glancing around for any threat.

Perception Check

D20 + 3 = 12 (9)

As they walked through a back alley, Adam tensed up, clutching his die tight. They circled around to a shack three stories tall, where the young woman quickly knocked on the door.

“Lenry! Lenry! Come, quicky!”

Adam kept his eyes about, trusting that Jurot would deal with anything in front of them. He noted a few looks their way from a few men, each of whom were wearing thick cloaks.

The door opened, and Adam dared a peek, only to see a young boy, maybe four years old, who was looking up at them.

“Anna?” the boy called.

“Look, Lenry. It’s an Iyrman.”

“Iyrman?” the boy asked, staring up at Jurot, seeing his furry attire, the axe at his side, and the tattoo on the Iyrman’s forehead. “Iyrman!” he said, bouncing and clapping his hands.

Adam blinked.

“It really is an Iyrman,” a man called from nearby.

“An Iyrman! Jerry! It’s an Iyrman!” shouted another.

‘What the hell is going on?’

Soon the pair were flooded by people all about them, most of them who were young, whereas others seemed to be retired folk.

Soon, Jurot was holding out his arms with four children dangling off of them, and there were a handful of people who were swinging the Iyrman’s axe for good luck.

“What’s with the Half Elf?” an older man said, keeping a suspicious eye on Adam.

“I’m Adam,” he said.

“Adam is my brother.”

“Your brother?” the man asked, staring at Adam’s forehead. “He’s got no tattoos.”

“He is a Nephew of my family,” Jurot said, “but he is my brother.”

The man squinted his eyes. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Yes,” Jurot agreed.

“What’s the story behind that then?” an older man asked, one who had a single arm, and was heavily scarred across his face.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me about your arm and those scars,” Adam said.

“What a cheeky bastard!” The old man laughed. “Adam, eh? I’m Jorge, of Red Hawk.”

“Red Hawk?”

“We were an old group that was active about thirty years ago,” Jorge said. “In fact, I’m sure I’ve met an Iyrman with the same tattoos as this young man back when I was a boy.”

“The same tattoos? Are you sure?”

“Ay, he had an axe and shield too. I can’t forget him.”

“What colour was his axe?” Jurot asked.

Jorge rubbed his chin. “His axe was red, and I think his shield was red too.”

“My grandfather, Jarot, son of Varot,” Jurot said, nodding his head.

“That’s why I called my party Red Hawk,” he admitted. “To think that you’re here now, it must be fate.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, “Fate.”

Jurot threw Adam a knowing look. “Then I will wish you all become strong so that you may become great Adventurers too.”

The children cheered, but Jorge whacked one with his sleeve. “What do you mean you’ll be an Adventurer? You’ll be a Scribe, live a proper life for your parents.”

The kid rubbed the back of his head and grumbled up at his grandfather.

“We should probably go and continue with our business,” Adam said.

“You should come by in the evening for dinner,” Jorge said.

“Oh, we shouldn’t intrude,” Adam said, patting Jurot’s back. “Though next time we’re in Jaghi, we’ll come by to speak with you about your stories.”

“You haven’t even told us how you came to be an Iyrman’s brother,” Jorge grumbled.

“Good, then we have a reason to come by next time,” Adam said. “Then we can find out about your arm and your scars.”

Jorge chuckled. “Alright then. Take good care of yourself, you two.”

Adam nodded, and soon the pair were off again, heading out to buy some souvenirs.

“I thought we were going to get jumped,” Adam admitted.

“Jaghi has positive views of Iyrmen.”

“Why is that?”

“They are full of warriors. There are times when some Iyrmen come to Jaghi to spar with the different warriors.”

“Ah,” Adam said. “Cool.”

Once they were at the market, the pair of them split off for a short while. Jurot went to go find some wood, as he did every time he had time in a town.

Adam slipped into a smithery. “Excuse me,” he said, watching as a beautiful middle aged woman was working a spearhead made of some kind of metal with flecks of powdered gem.

“Yes?” she asked, not turning to see him.

“I’m looking for a longsword made of Jagite,” he said.

“I’ve got a few,” she said. “Check the rack.” She continued hammering the spearhead rhythmically, like she was a musician of steel.

Adam stepped towards the rack, which held six longswords. Their handles were made of the same metal, a darkish blue with golden flecks, though were covered in different coloured leathers.

“How much are they?” Adam asked.

“White handle is one hundred gold, grey is eighty, the rest are fifty,” she replied.

“I’ll take the white handle sword,” he said, undoing it off the rack. “Can I pay with two Onyx gems?”

The woman stopped working the spearhead, glancing over at the high spender only to see him in puthral breastplate, with a beautiful white sword, made of the Iyrmen’s materials.

“Is that puthral?” she said, quickly rushing up to him, grabbing onto the armour with her sweaty hands.

“Yes,” Adam said, feeling a little awkward that a pretty woman was rubbing all over his armour.

“Is that Iyrsteel?” she asked, squatting down to stare at his longsword.

“I think so,” he said.

“You think so?” Her eyes shot upwards to see his pointed ears. “A Half Elf? What are you doing with Iyrmen’s materials? Did you loot it off an Iyrman?”

“No,” Adam said, chuckling. “They traded it to me.”

“They traded this to you?” She raised her brow, obviously not falling for his words.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I’m a Nephew of the Iyr.”

“A Nephew you say?” Her brows raised further. “Uhuh, I’m sure.”

“Whether you believe me or not is unimportant. Are my gems welcome here, or do I need to find another place to do business?”

“Why wouldn’t they be welcome here?” she said, patting his armour. “Two Onyx is fine.”

Gems: (20) Onyx -> (18) Onyx

“Are you interested in trading your armour or sword?” she asked. “I’ll pay good coin.”

“No,” Adam replied, smiling. “I know it’s difficult to get our hands on these, so I intend to keep them close at hand until they’re well used.”

She clicked her teeth. “What a shame.”

“May I leave?” he asked.

“I’m not keeping you,” she said, before returning back to her work, thinking about what she had heard.