“You did well,” Jarot said, patting his heavy pouch.
Adam gave him a thumbs up. “I had to pull out all my tricks to beat her, but I managed it, somehow.’
“Tricks? You mean your magic?” Jarot asked.
“Yep. Without my magic, and without this sword, I would have gotten stomped, just like yesterday.”
“Your magic is part of your strength, is it not?” Jarot asked. “That, and your enchanting.”
“Well, I suppose so. I was extremely lucky today. I was a single flick away from falling at the end. If Otkan hadn’t missed those last two swings because of Shield, I would have lost.”
“Luck is also a skill, Son of Fate.”
Adam winked at the old man. “Isn’t it?”
“I was wondering how the blade slipped out of her hand,” Jarot said. “Was that you?”
“Me?” Adam said, raising his brow. “Well, it was someone much more powerful than me.”
Jarot slowly nodded his head.
“Did you see?” Adam asked, reaching up to rub Lanarot’s cheeks as she kept patting his armour. “I guess the best reward was that I got to show off to you. Do you see how strong I am?”
Lanarot giggled as she slapped his armour happily, before repositioning herself so she was on all fours on top of him, trying to get a better look at the armour.
Adam noted there were two young women staring at him, both quite pretty, and both identical. He also noted the waves of other youngsters who were beaming at him, ready and eager to meet with him.
‘I guess I need to do the rounds?’
Adam picked Lanarot up off of him, letting her down beside him, grabbing his blade and sheathing it so she didn’t hurt herself.
“So, I assume you guys want to see my armour and my weapon?” he asked.
“You should not be so proud,” a boy said, pointing at him angrily. “You used magic to win.”
“Yes, obviously,” Adam said. “I couldn’t beat Otkan without it.”
“Grandaunt can beat you!” the boy declared.
“Yes, yes,” Adam said, smiling down at him. “I am proud that I did not embarrass myself too much against your grandaunt. I am grateful for the opportunity, and the mercy, she showed me.”
The boy stared at him, and seeing that the Half Elf understood, he nodded his head. All the while, his mother rubbed her forehead, wondering why he needed to be such an embarrassing little brat.
Adam shook the forearms of all the Iyrmen about, each of whom were greeting Adam, before allowing him his peace. He had allowed some of them to go and play with his sword, under the supervision of the older Iyrmen.
“So you’re our Cousin,” a young woman said.
“You fought well,” her twin said.
“Cousin? So you’re both Rot?” Adam said, glancing at their bare foreheads. It seemed they had yet to be tattooed.
“We will be tattooed soon,” the girls said. “We were waiting for our cousin.”
“You were waiting for me?” Adam asked.
“No, our cousin, not our Cousin,” the first twin said. “Cousin Nirot.”
“Oh,” Adam said. “Are you two going to be fighting in the festival?”
The pair nodded together.
“You should not.” Twin A said.
“I shouldn’t?”
“It would be unfair to the others,” Twin B replied.
“You are too strong,” Twin A added.
“I am?” Adam said, before closing his eyes shut. “Oh, right.” He had half forgotten what had happened not moments ago.
“It is fine,” Twin A said. “We will allow you to fight alone during the festival.”
“Really now, there’s no need for that,” Adam said, chuckling.
“You will bring great honour to our family!” Twin A declared.
The pair of them stared up at him with bright eyes, far too full of hope.
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‘This feels awkwardly good,’ Adam thought, coughing into the side of his fist. “Well, uh, don’t worry about it.”
“However,” Twin A said, pointing up at him.
‘What’s with Iyrmen and pointing?’
“You cannot use a sword,” she said, glaring up at him.
“You are a member of our family, so you cannot dishonour us so,” Twin B added.
“Right, right. I'll try and make a proper axe for it, then.” Adam shook his head at them. “Wait… can I even use magical weapons during the festival?”
“Yes,” Twin b said. “You may use any items which belong to the family, including your own.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Adam said. “Half my power comes from my enchanting.”
“You should remain at the family estate,” Twin A said. “We will cook you a stew.”
“A stew?” Adam said. “Is it a magical stew of the Iyr or something?”
“No,” Twin B said. “It is a stew. You should eat so you can rest well.”
Jarot watched from afar. ‘That’s right. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. If that doesn’t work, hack your way to his heart with your axes.’ Jarot nodded his head.
“Uh, no, no. There’s no need for that,” Adam said, seeing the predatory gaze within their eyes. He backed away slowly, but they each grabbed his elbows.
“You are too weak, so we will assist you to your room,” Twin A said.
“I thought I was powerful?” Adam said, trying to pull away from the pair.
“You faced Grandaunt well, but even if you were granduncle, you would need to rest and heal,” Twin B said.
“Hey,” Jarot grumbled.
Otkan threw Jarot a look, glancing at his arm, before raising her brows.
Jarot sighed.
Adam was dragged to a nearby room for him to rest up.
“We are good…” Twin A began.
“We can cook a stew at least,” Twin B said, throwing her twin sister a look. ‘Right?’ her look said.
The pair quickly slipped away to find some ingredients, and Adam wondered if he should throw himself out the window.
‘No. That would be stupid.’
Adam remained in the room to rest up, regaining some Health and Mana, before he could smell something. It wasn’t good or bad, just okay. ‘At least they aren’t poisoning me.’
“I did not expect you to beat her,” Jarot admitted over dinner.
He, along with the twins, Cirot and Sirot, Churot, the Devilkin boy, and Sonarot and Lanarot, were all joining Adam to eat.
“Me neither,” Adam admitted. “I was really lucky towards the end.”
“Daughter, are you sure you-“
It was then another woman had walked in. She was old, about as old as Jarot, and her forehead held the same tattoo of the Rot family.
“I heard that you were about to say something stupid,” she said, staring at Jarot. “You must be Adamrot.”
“Ah, well, I’m no Iyrman,” Adam said, staring up at the old woman.
“Mulrot,” the woman said, bowing her head as she sat beside the Devilkin boy, who was now sandwiched between the two older Iyrmen.
“My wife here is the Family Elder,” Jarot said. “Though you don’t need to call her Family Elder since you’re family too.”
“Is that how that works?” Adam asked.
“No,” Mulrot said. “It is fine if you are here within our walls, but out in the Iyr, proper respect must be paid.”
“Understood,” Adam said, nodding his head.
“If not my dear daughter, what about my grandnieces?” Jarot motioned his head to Cirot and Sirot.
“They’re a little too young,” Adam said, noting their looks. “Aren’t I a Nephew already? I’m Lanarot’s brother.”
“You should hurry up and become an Iyrman,” Jarot said.
“I would be a terrible Iyrman,” Adam said, firmly. “I’m too queer. I’m just happy to be Lanarot’s brother, and a Nephew.”
“I want at least fifty greatchildren, and I can tell you will give me half of them,” Jarot said.
“Actually, I’m aiming for a thousand children, so it would be more than that,” Adam said, glancing to Sonarot as his lips twitched into a smile.
Jarot stared at Adam. “Right, you said that you had no family remaining.”
Adam looked up at the old man. “Is that what that means?”
Jarot nodded.
“Oh.” Adam cleared his throat. “Well, I have no plans on marrying any time soon.”
“At the very least, you cannot marry anyone from another family,” Jarot urged.
“I refuse,” Adam said, before sipping on some stew. “I will do whatever I like.”
“Then marry us,” Cirot said. “We will give you a thousand children.”
Adam choked on the stew, coughing as it spilled against his front.
“We will take good care of you,” Sirot added, reaching for a cloth to dab at him with.
Adam quickly pulled away, not liking the flag that was being raised. He coughed a few more times, before managing to catch his breath.
“You Iyrmen are going to be the death of me,” Adam said, trying to retreat. “Seriously, what are you saying?”
“What is the matter?” Jarot asked.
“I can’t marry one of them, nevermind both of them.”
“What is wrong with marrying them both?” Jarot asked.
Adam looked to Sonarot for help.
“They are especially close,” Sonarot said. “If one of them were to die, the other would follow soon after.”
Adam’s eyes went wide, before he looked to Cirot and Sirot, who both nodded. ‘These two are so hardcore, what the hell. Well, they are pretty. No, no, they look like they’re what, sixteen or so? Though, is that adulthood in the Iyr?’
Wisdom Save
D20 + 3 = 12 (9)
Omen: 16 -> 0
16 + 3 = 19
Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.
The stranger stared off in the distance, noting where it had come from again.
‘A second time from the same place?’ the stranger thought.
A small smile appeared on his lips, a third since he had arrived here.
“No thank you,” Adam said, managing to refuse the offer.
“If I hear you have abandoned our family, I will hunt you down myself,” Jarot grumbled.
“The rematch won’t go the same as the first time,” Adam said. “If I do eventually leave, it’ll be once I’m a Gold Rank Adventurer. No, a Diamond Rank.”
“Diamond Rank?” Jarot asked. “Hah! Haha!” The old man began to laugh.
Lanarot looked up at him with her sleepy eyes, narrowing them at him, before she squirmed in her mother’s arms.
“Look at your grandfather, Lanarot,” Adam said. “He keeps bullying me.”
“Bullying you?” Jarot said, reaching out with a hand to pinch his cheek. “Is it not my role as your Grandfather to bully you?”
“You wish you were my Grandfather. Lanarot is my sister, so I’ll accept that you’re her grandfather, but that’s only if you don’t shame her.”
Jarot turned to Cirot and Sirot. “You should hurry up and seduce him,” he said in their tongue.
“Watch it, old man,” Adam replied, also in their tongue.
“You speak our words?” Jarot asked, surprised.
Even Mulrot raised her brows. She had been listening intently to the conversation, wondering how much she should punish Jarot for being an idiot, but hearing Adam speak their language had filled her with alarm.
She caught Sonarot’s eyes, the woman shaking her head.
“Yeah,” Adam said. “I managed to learn it pretty quickly.”
“He learnt it through the Gods,” Sonarot said.
“Something like that,” Adam said.
“Favoured by the Gods?” Jarot asked.
“Something like that.”
“Ah!” Jarot said. “You will not marry the women because you are-“
“I’m not gay,” Adam said.
“You are not?” Churot asked, speaking up finally upon hearing Adam’s words.
Adam sighed.
Lanarot began to cry.
“Even she is surprised,” Jarot said.