“Adam son of Fate,” Adam said, extending a hand to formally introduce himself to the Iyrmen. Each was tall and strong, built either like an ox, or like a panther, but each so powerful in their own right.
“Argon,” the leader of the Iyrman group said. He was tall and broad, with long black hair which fell to his shoulders. He looked to be the oldest, in his late thirties or early forties. The greatsword at his back was almost as big as he, with a long grip that was about as long as Adam’s wrist to forearm, and the blade itself was as wide as the crossbar, a flat, solid thing that was sharpened at the edges. The entire hilt was wrapped in bandages, which hid how the grip met the crossbar.
‘Cool.’
“Tazwyn,” she said. “I heard that you are decent at slaying boars.” The woman smiled. She was one of the few who had ginger hair rather than dark hair, and she had freckles all over her face. She wielded a sword and shield, and was adorned in plate mail rather than the furs of the Iyrmen.
“I’m not bad,” Adam admitted. “It’s only thanks to all those who assisted me.”
“Eshva.” She was much shorter than Argon and Tazwyn, but built just as wide. She had dark hair, cut short. At her side were two warhammers, each of which looked just as amazing as his own, but there was something else about them, though he wasn’t able to gather as the next person introduced themselves.
“Kandal.” Kandal was built like a typical Iyrman, though his eyes seemed dead. He had a large greataxe on his back.
“Dargon,” the last Iyrman said. He looked just like Argon, but slightly younger, and slightly thinner. His greatsword was much more normal, not quite as long, but the black gem which formed the pommel seemed to give out an ominous energy.
"The order that we were introduced denotes our ranks, so if I’m not around, Tazwyn is next in charge and so on.” Argon glanced towards Dargon, grunting something. “My youngest brother is tasked with your safety, however, so stay with him.”
“I’m still stronger than the both of you together,” Dargon said, glancing at Jurot first, and then Adam.
“I can tell,” Adam said, glancing at them all. They each were Steel Rank adventurers, with a number of stamps. Argon had the most, with Tazwyn having the second most, and the rest all had a similar amount of stamps, about fifteen to twenty.
“Since we are facing undead, it is best you bring a blunt weapon.” Argon glanced at Jurot, who had forgotten to buy one due to the fact he heard Adam speak dwarven. “The majority of the undead will be skeletons of some kind. If there is another type of undead, we will deal with it.”
“We’ll stay out of your way when that time comes.” Adam chuckled.
“Do not stress yourselves. Our goal is to protect the people by vanquishing the undead, not by dying to the undead.”
Adam glanced at Jurot for a moment. “I understand. I’ll definitely live, you can bet on that.”
“Good. We shall leave soon. Tazwyn, we will need a blunt weapon for Jurot.” Argon placed a hand on Jurot’s shoulder. “You are too inexperienced to fight such beings with your family’s weapon.”
“I understand.” Jurot nodded his head, accepting the fact that he was too weak. It wasn’t a dishonour to fight with another weapon, but he did want to bring honour to his family’s weapon.
Kandal placed a hand on Jurot’s shoulder. “Another time.”
The two shared their bond through their weapons. Axes were their favoured weapons. Jurot’s fighting style was that of an axe and shield, though sometimes he did forgo the shield. He was sure his parents would be annoyed by the fact, but sometimes he needed his other hand free for something else.
Once the warhammer had been bought for Jurot, one which was made from a local smith, and had been appraised by Tazwyn to be decent, they set out from the town. They took the main road westward, which was what Adam remembered from his last life too.
Quest
Defend the Three Villages
Reward
300XP
‘The Iyr seems to be in the same place.’ However, with everything being so different, he wasn’t sure if he should completely commit to that thought yet.
Argon took the lead, with Tazwyn at the rear. Kandal and Eshva remained at the sides, with Dargon remaining near the young pair. They had moved into position wordlessly, with a practised discipline.
‘Damn, these Iyrmen are too cool!’
They followed the main road for a long while, with some of the Iyrmen leaving silently to a patch of grass here and there, or to a nearby tree, grabbing a few things, before they returned. Hours passed before they could see a carriage up ahead, making its way to Red Oak. There were six armoured riders, two in front, two to the side, two behind. The two armoured riders at the side started to ride forward, towards the group of Iyrmen, who stepped to the side of the road.
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However, as the riders neared, they stopped a short ways away, within a javelin’s throwing range. They wore heavy plate, with a spear in their grip, and a sword at their side. Their spears gave an unnatural sheen, catching the sun and reflecting it like they were piercing through the rays of light. Their armour was stamped with a lion’s head.
The armoured riders caugh Argon’s gaze, and they nodded their heads slowly at the Iyrmen, with Argon nodding his head in return. The riders waited for the carriage, before taking their place at the side, and they continued on. The carriage stopped before it would pass the group of Iyrmen. The symbol on the side of the carriage was a shield of red, with a golden lion painted on it.
The doors opened and a heavily armoured man, who was in his mid fifties, stepped out. He was a handsome man, as one would have expected, with sun kissed hair, and ocean blue eyes. “Greetings to the Iyrmen,” the man said.
“Greetings to you, Duke Lionheart. I am Argon, of the Iyr.”
The Duke glanced at the man’s tags quickly to check his rank. “Argon of the Iyr, it seems it was good fortune that we meet this day. Are you Iyrmen on a quest currently?”
“Yes.”
The Duke remained standing, his eyes scanning across the group of Iyrmen. Tazwyn had removed her helmet upon the Duke’s arrival out of the carriage, but there was one who hadn’t. “Who is this stranger in your midst?”
“A Copper Rank adventurer.”
“I can see that.” The Duke’s lips twisted into a smile. ‘It seems they’re hiding something. Iyrmen, hiding something?’ “State your name.”
“Adam son of Fate,” Adam replied. Though, looking at the Duke, he couldn’t help but feel he was familiar.
“Are you afraid of removing your helmet, Adam?”
“Yes.”
The Duke raised his brow. “Why is that?”
“I find that removing my helmet causes me some trouble,” Adam replied. He was acutely aware of the difference in rank between he and the Duke.
“I can tell you’re not from around here either, otherwise you would have greeted me appropriately.”
“I can see that the Lionheart family is as intelligent as they are powerful,” Adam replied.
“Remove your helmet,” the Duke said. “I’m sure you understand that a Duke’s order is not one to be ignored.”
Adam sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” He took off his helmet to reveal his face, which suddenly caused the tension in the air to grow thick.
The riders each reached for their weapons, but as they did, Tazwyn put on her helmet. The Iyrmen did not reach for their weapons, but that did not mean they would not act.
The Duke raised his hand quickly, stopping his knights from taking any more hostile action. “I did not expect one of your kind to be here,” the Duke said. If he had allowed his knights to draw their weapons, it could have been too late to stop the bloody slaughter.
“I get that a lot,” Adam replied back with a smile, glancing between the riders. “I heard that my kind weren’t welcome in this land, but it seems that it was rather understated.”
“You’re more than welcome, it’s just that our people have had bad blood between one another for some time.” The Duke stared at the half elf for a long while.
“I would prefer not to correct you, but I’m the first of my people to have stepped on this land. I hear that your people have an issue with certain elves, elves who I have never met before.”
The Duke smiled wider. “That is true. Though, it is a surprise to see that the Iyrmen are travelling with a fey blood.” His eyes fell to Argon. “What would the King say if he knew of such a thing?”
Argon’s brow twitched. “The King is free to speak whatever words he wishes. Iyrmen are not restricted from walking alongside elves, or dwarves, or orcs, or devilkin, or beastfolk, or humans, or giants, or dragons, or any other kind. It has been so since the beginning of the Iyr, and it will be so at the end of the Iyr.”
The Duke wondered just how much he could curry favour with the King after hearing such words from the Iyrman.
Argon, of course, knew how his response sounded. However, his words were true as well. Yet, the matter of the elves burned deep into his mind. ‘I will need to speak with Chief Iromin.’
Even though the Duke had the upper hand, with his powerful knights, and he himself being a great warrior, he had no doubt that he could bring the Iyrmen group of Steel Rank down. However, even if the Iyrman had stated to his face that they were planning on beheading the King, he was at a disadvantage. He could no doublt corral all the soldiers at the fort nearby, and whatever knights the local ruling family had in possession, but he was certain that by the end of the month, his head would be on a pike, and his name would go down forever as the foolish Duke who had raised his sword against an Iyrman.
“I have taken enough of your time,” the Duke said, realising the state of affairs before him. “Good luck on your adventure.” He turned and left, stepping back into his carriage, and continued on.
“That was rough, huh?” Adam said, putting his helmet back on. “I felt as though we were about to fight.”
“We wouldn’t have fought,” Argon said. “Duke Lionheart is not a stupid man.”
“Well, if he wanted to kill me, I’m sure he could have.”
“Yes, we would have had difficulty defending you against his knights.”
“Defending me?” Adam asked, staring at the Iyrman.
“We are to bring you to the Iyr,” Argon said. “No one will stop us, not without a fight.”
Adam raised his brows in surprise. “Well, thank you.” Adam glanced back at the gradually smaller carriage. “A Duke moving along with only six knights? Isn’t that-“
“There are things we shouldn’t say,” Argon said. “Let us move on.”
“A Duke, huh?” Adam said, wondering how much he could say. “Just how high of a rank is a Duke anyway?”
“It is lower than the King and Queen,” he said. “Higher than the Prince.”
Adam whistled. “Whoa, so he wasn’t just anybody?”
“He is Duke Lionheart, Warden of the West Fort.”
“West Fort, huh? Where’s that?”
“To the West.”
Adam blinked. ‘I swear, is this guy British too?’ He smirked. “How close is that to the Iyr?”
“It is slightly north of our lands.”
Seeing how vague the Iyrman was being, Adam chuckled. “Do you have much business with the Lionhearts?”
“We have defended their fort in previous generations, but the last few generations of Lionhearts have distanced themselves. During the war with the elves, they were the loudest proponents to fight.”
“So he doesn’t like elves?”
“I don’t believe he has any opinions about elves. He merely wishes to write his name down in history. He fought well against the elves, but that is all. The war did not last long enough for him to cement himself.”
“I get the feeling that he and I will not be getting along.”
“He will no doubt speak of your sighting, though it will be with the aim to criticise the Iyr.”
“Ah, well, sorry about that.”
“You did nothing wrong.” Argon couldn’t help but shake the dark feeling within his gut. “I do not believe anything will come of it. The King now, though greedy to also write his name in history, will not dare to point his sword towards the Iyr.”
“Why is that?”
“Have you ever heard the Tale of the Blackwater Crisis?”