Omen: 7, 13
“Aboo?” Lanarot asked, pointing at her brother, before clapping her hands.
“No,” Adam replied. “I’ll do my best though.”
Adam had awoken that morning not feeling great. His Omen was in the middle, which was the worst. He couldn’t guarantee anything in the fight against Mirot, not with those two numbers.
‘How troublesome,’ he thought. ‘I should be fine with Phantom, but if she gets as lucky as I do, I might lose.’
Lanarot reached up to grab his collar, tugging against it, before pulling herself to stand on his lap. She lay against his chest as she stood, staring up at him, her eyes wide.
‘Should I tell them to take Lanarot away?’
“Adam,” Sonarot called, causing Lanarot to turn her head. “It will be time to fight soon.”
Adam prepared himself, pulling on his puthral plate mail, and grabbing his Phantom. He hadn’t checked out Stormdrake yet, having been swept up by the atmosphere the previous afternoon, which ended up with an impromptu party with all the older Iyrmen.
He stepped out to see the same faces as the day before, but also more of the Rot family, this time with Fakrot his twin daughters, as well as the other distant Rot family members.
‘Damn,’ Adam thought. ‘Now I really don’t want to lose.’
“Will you win?” Cirot asked?
“Maybe,” Adam replied. “So, are we doing any betting?”
“We cannot afford your bets,” Iromin said, appearing with the other Great Elders.
They had decided against watching secretly, wanting to give Adam at least that much respect.
“I doubt it,” Adam said, smiling at the Great Elders, nodding his head. “It seems I’m in trouble?”
“We merely wished to see your fight,” Iromin said. “Is that an issue?”
Adam raised his brow. “Can I refuse you?”
“You may.”
Adam rolled his eyes in the most exaggerated manner. “Right.”
“I would like to retrieve Stormdrake back,” Strom said. “Will you be able to defeat her in a single blow?”
“No way,” Adam said. “I don’t think you could afford that bet.”
“Perhaps not,” Strom said, chuckling. “Then, what should I bet to retrieve back Stormdrake?”
“Your spark?” Adam asked.
“What will you offer?” Strom asked.
“Stormdrake.”
“My spark is worth so much more.”
“If you want a fair bet, then how about Stormdrake and Phantom for your spark, but the bet is whether I can defeat Aunt Mirot.”
“That is not worth it,” Strom said.
“So? Are you scared?” Adam smiled.
Strom laughed. “Of course I am. I can’t give up my spark for anything less than the price of a Prince.”
“What a shame I’m not royalty,” Adam said.
Sonarot smiled, before handing Lanarot to Shikan, the pair exchanging looks. “I will bet on Adam’s win.”
“How much?” Fakrot asked.
“Name your bet.”
“My axe for yours?”
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Sonarot nodded.
“I will put a hundred silver on Adam,” Jarot said, letting Mulrot deal with the book.
Other Rot family members each placed down their coins, some with copper pieces, others with silver.
“Silver?” Adam asked.
“I cannot bully my family,” Jarot said.
“I will bet you a sword,” Elder Gold said.
“A non magical sword?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“What am I going to do with a sword?” Adam asked, motioning to his axe. “I’m a Nephew of the Rot family.”
Elder Gold resisted the urge to smile. “An axe then.”
“Sure. A non magical axe for a non magical axe,” Adam said. “I hope it’s a cool axe, though.”
“It is an axe which is made of great materials.”
“It should be if Elder Gold is offering it.” Adam smiled. “Any other Great Elder want to bet with me?”
The Great Elders still weren’t sure if Adam would win. With his Phantom he was truly a monster, but Mirot would be able to resist most of his abilities otherwise due to the rage of the Rot family, which resisted everything but the damage done to one’s mind.
“We do not have access to the wealth which Elder Gold has,” Elder Teacher said.
“Well…” Adam looked to Elder Forest. “I hear that two Great Elders are in charge of wealth.”
Elder Forest smiled. “If you are willing to bet your Phantom, I will bet a magical weapon of equal value. However, it is on the condition that you do not use your Phantom’s abilities.”
“No thanks,” Adam said. “That’s a bad deal.”
“Then a basic enchanted weapon, one with several enchantments for your Phantom?” Elder Forest asked.
Adam was still in two minds about whether he’d win. He looked to Lanarot, who was babbling away to Shikan, before he smiled. “Alright, I won’t bully you since you’re so poor, Elder Forest.”
‘Just how comfortable is he to poke fun at a Great Elder?’ Strom thought, smiling. “Then what if I offer the same? A weapon as good as Phantom for Stormdrake?”
“Is Stormdrake that good?”
“You have not checked?”
Adam shrugged his shoulders. “Not yet.”
“Then yes, it is that good.” Strom smiled innocently.
“Fine.”
“Are you going to bet on Adam?” Dunes asked.
“I think it would be rude,” Vonda replied, looking around to all the Iyrmen about.
With the bets written down, Adam and Mirot faced off against one another. She wore the thick clothing of the Iyr, her long white pelt falling from her shoulders. She held the same shield her husband had the day before, and Adam wondered if it was magical.
“Are you ready?” Mirot asked.
Adam nodded, raising Phantom and his shield, feeling his die in hand. “Yes.”
Elder Zijin looked to Iromin, who raised his hand. “You may begin.”
Battle Order
D20 + 1 = 13 (12)
Warrior Spirit: 3 -> 2
Attack
D20 + 8 = 9 (1)
D20 + 8 = 21 (13)
Hit!
Mana: 18 -> 15
Phantom: 3 -> 2
1D6 + 4D6 + 4D6 + 6 = 46 (6)(2, 4, 4, 6)(4, 4, 5, 5)
46 damage!
Attack
D20 + 8 = 22 (14)
D20 + 8 = 23 (15)
Hit!
Mana: 15 -> 12
Phantom: 2 -> 1
1D6 + 4D6 + 4D6 + 6 = 44 (5)(2, 4, 5, 5)(2, 4, 5, 6)
44 damage!
The thump against the drum began the fight. Adam, with as much force as he could muster, bolted forward. He swung his axe down, catching Sunder Axe as the pair clashed, his axe flashing white with the divine magics of his smite. It wasn’t just the divine magic, however, but the magic of Phantom which also struck the Iyrman, causing her to shake slightly from the blow.
Mirot stepped back, but Adam chased her, swinging his axe down, managing to catch her axe again, but her arm shook wildly.
Adam readied to push forward, about to summon forth his Onward Soar, when he heard her voice.
“Adam,” Mirot said, her nose dripping blood, her arm shaking.
Adam paused, seeing how she had dropped her arms, opening herself up.
Mirot would have pushed through to fight, but she knew Adam had the ability to push through for at least one more blow. There would have been no shame for her to lose in front of him, axe clashing against axe.
However, coming across the wall known as Adam, she had stopped to think.
Adam stood in front of her, axe still gripped tightly in hand, but he did not move. The spectators watched, the world nearly silent except for Lanarot’s shrieking and clapping, though she stopped too, seeing the pair had frozen.
“Do you have another charge of your Phantom?” Mirot asked.
“Yeah,” Adam said. “One more.”
Mirot nodded her head. She was not someone who could fall from a single blow, just like Kaygak. Yet, there she stood, pale, bleeding from her nose, her entire body heavy. If there had been even a light breeze assisting Adam’s blow, she would have fallen already.
“I surrender, Adam,” Mirot said.
Adam slowly nodded his head. “Okay.”
“It was a good fight.”
“Yeah.”
Victory!
Mirot
XP Gained: +1000
XP: 5800 -> 6800
It was a quiet victory, one which left a sour taste in Adam’s mouth. He threw a look to Turot and Nirot, seeing them approach their mother to assist her, before he pulled away.
‘As much as I wanted to win, it’s pretty bad to beat her so quickly, right?’ Adam sighed, approaching Lanarot, picking her up and hugging her tight. “Did you see, baby?”
Lanarot blew a raspberry at him before pointing up and babbling. Adam had no idea what she was saying, but assumed she wanted him to look on the bright side of things.
“Lanarot, it’s nightval.”
Lanarot stared up at him, before returning back to babbling at him.
‘I wonder if Mirot could have beaten him even in her rage,’ Jarot thought. ‘Could I?’
Chief Iromin refused to look at the other Great Elders, though he could feel their gazes burning at his back.
“You should have taken Adam to fight back then,” Strom said, bold enough to tease the Chief.
“I do not believe it would have changed anything,” Iromin replied.
“Yes, but perhaps I would have lost a limb?” Strom pondered. ‘He is definitely only an Expert. Will it be embarrassing if I try to fight him?’
Adam brushed Lanarot’s hair behind her ear, before kissing her forehead.
‘Yes, extremely embarrassing.’