Omen: 9, 16
Adam stared at the ceiling for a long while. ‘I won’t die if I enchant today, right? I’ll be done with the weapon at least…’
Lanarot stood on Adam’s lap during breakfast, grabbing his shirt, tugging against it as she played with him. “Oob?”
“Can’t say I agree with you,” Adam replied, keeping a hand against her back.
“Ball?”
“Lanarot wants to play with ball?” Adam asked.
“Papa,” she replied, smiling up at him.
“Do you want some bread?” Adam asked.
Lanarot opened her mouth, allowing her brother to feed her, before she chewed slowly.
Adam smiled. “Jurot, you need to hurry up and get married so I can spoil your kids too.”
Sonarot’s ears perked up upon hearing the statement, and Jurot’s eyes remained glued to Adam, trying to avoid his mother’s gaze.
“Do you not want to marry?" Jurot asked.
“How can I get married when Lanarot hasn’t picked anyone for me?” Adam asked, resting his head against Lanarot’s, who also rested her head against his shoulder.
“I will marry when it is time,” Jurot stated. He still had a couple of years of adventuring left before he needed to make the choice before the Elders.
“I won’t be able to get married for at least two or three years, not until I have a business and enough money, and warriors, to make sure my kids are safe,” Adam said. “I don’t think Half Elf children will be welcome across Aldland.”
Jurot fell into thought. ‘You would not raise them in the Iyr?’ He wanted to ask Adam, but he realised that he couldn’t, it wasn’t his place to. Adam was free to raise his children however he pleased, for he may have been Jurot’s brother, but he was no Iyrman, and therefore not bound by the rules of the Iyr.
“You worry too much, Adam,” Sonarot said, smiling.
Adam cleared his throat. “I’m going to enchant today.”
Sonarot’s face still held a smile, though her eyes were piercing deep into Adam.
‘What’s with all the looks and gazes recently?’ Adam thought.
Mana: 18 -> 15
Enchanting Check
D20 + 7 = 15 (8)
Omen: 9, 16 -> 9
16 + 7 = 23
Intelligence Save
D20 + 5 = 6 (1)
Failure!
Health: 65 -> 10
Exhaustion: 0 -> 1
Adam plucked a Thread of Fate, allowing the small Dragons a moment of respite, and thus Fate was forever changed.
Adam fell to the ground, gasping for air, coughing up as blood dripped through his nostrils. He clutched at his heart, which burned him harshly, while the rest of his body shuddered ice cold.
“Are you okay?” the Iyrman nearby asked, quickly darting towards him, potion in hand.
Adam raised a hand, coughing to the side, before spitting and flexing.
Tough Spirit: 1 -> 0
2D6 + 5 = 7 (1, 1)
Health: 10 -> 17
‘Oh come on!’ Adam groaned. ‘I should change you to Little Baby Spirit…’ “I’m alright. Just give me a couple of minutes.” Adam remained on the ground, panting for air.
[Would you like to spend XP to empower the weapon?]
‘Sure, 500.’
XP: 13 800 -> 13 300
Axe
Requires Attunement
You gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this weapon.
Deals 2D6 slashing damage.
When you are reduced to half Health or lower, the weapon deals an additional 1D6 damage.
[Would you like to name the weapon?]
‘Black Death,’ Adam thought. ‘It almost killed me, so I have to respect it.’
Black Death
Requires Attunement
You gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this weapon.
Deals 2D6 slashing damage.
When you are reduced to half Health or lower, the weapon deals an additional 1D6 damage.
XP Gained: +500
XP: 13 300 -> 13 800
Adam eventually managed to push himself onto his feet, handing the axe to the Iyrman, before stumbling his way back to the shared family estate.
“You look like shit,” Lucy said. She had been playing with Lanarot while Adam was enchanting, having taken a break from sparring with the Iyrmen. She was getting used to her body, though she knew there was still more strength she could gain.
“Thanks,” Adam replied, sitting on the floor against a wall. “My head is pounding.”
“Are you okay?”
“I feel like I look,” Adam admitted. “I’m not enchanting tomorrow, no matter what.”
“What if the Iyr threatens you?” Lucy asked. “Then what are you going to do?”
“I’ll ask my lovely Aunt to protect me, of course,” Adam replied. “They’ll sort the Iyrmen out.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Adam,” Sonarot called, leaning down to place a hand on his head. “What am I to do with you?”
“Sorry, sorry, but I swear I’ll take the entire day off tomorrow.” Adam rubbed his temples. “I won’t be able to run WaW like this either…”
Nirot and the other teens appeared during the evening. They were currently assisting the Iyr with their labour, either chopping down trees, or working on the fields, or sparring with other Iyrmen of all ages.
“Are you okay?” Naqokan asked.
“I’m fine.” Adam yawned. “Just a little tired.”
“You are working too hard,” Naqokan said. “You must rest.”
“I know, I know.”
Naqokan looked at Lanarot, before her eyes fell onto the twins. “I will read to the children tonight.”
Damokan and Kalokan both looked up to their sister. They both passed their hot milk to her, but she refused, smiling down towards them. The other children also offered their foods to her, but she refused them all.
‘I should read to them tomorrow,’ Nirot thought, looking to Lanarot. ‘If Adam is going to be taking a break, I should take Lanarot away from him.’
“Book?” Lanarot asked during the evening.
“You want me to read you a book?” Adam asked.
Lanarot babbled affirmatively, reaching up to his shirt to grab it, not letting him escape from reading her a bed time story.
Adam smiled, kissing her forehead. “Anything for my Lanababy.”
Omen: 4, 11
When Adam awoke in the morning, he let Lanarot lay atop him until she awoke. “Lanababy, you can’t keep sleeping on me like this.”
Lanarot cackled tiredly up at him, before sucking against her thumb, cuddling up to his chest.
“What? Do you think because you’re cute I’ll forgive you?” Adam brushed her hair. “You’re absolutely correct, but that isn’t the point.”
Adam took it easy that day, only bathing in the late morning, before basking under the sun with Lanarot beside him.
Performance Check
D20 + 3 = 8 (5)
Lanarot stared at Adam, confused, hearing him play his panflute. Her brows were furrowed, her judgemental eyes glaring towards him. As he continued playing his panflute, she winced and pulled away from him, walking towards one of her aunts.
Adam watched her go. “This betrayal will never be forgotten.”
Adam continued to play his panflute, causing the children to remain on the other side of the shared courtyard. As the steps approached him, Adam peeked their way, before putting his panflute side. “It’s a good thing you’re here.”
“It is?” Vonda asked, adorned in the Iyr’s attire, which was fairly loose and light. She wore a long veil over her face, which was extremely dark from slightly below her eyes, hiding her burn marks out of sight.
“You can save them from the effects of my panflute, at least for a few minutes.” He winked.
Vonda sat beside him. “You always love to joke.”
“Well, it’s always good to see you, Sir Vonda. What do I owe the pleasure?” Adam poured some fruit wine for her. It had been watered down so the taste of the fruit was very slight.
“I have thought about the offer you had made to me,” Vonda admitted, keeping the drink at arm’s length for the moment. “There will come a day where I will be forced to retire. I am an Expert, so I have some ability with Third Gate spells, and travelling with you is quite the blessing, but I am certain I will soon grow too powerful for the laws of the land.”
“Right,” Adam said, taking a small sip of the wine, waiting for the woman to gather her thoughts.
“Being the Head Priest of my own temple is something that I would have strived towards eventually, but I did not expect it to be so soon. I almost became an Expert in two years, which is quite the feat, and I had originally thought to create my own small temple somewhere. I didn’t expect that you would offer me such a thing.”
“It must have been Fate,” Adam said, glancing upwards for a moment. ‘It really does feel like Fate…’
“I think so too. I am willing to join your business as a Priest, to teach your workers to read and write and their numbers, and even to teach them the magics of our good Mother.”
Adam leaned in towards her suddenly. “Really?” Adam reached up to pat her back, but quickly withdrew his hand. He had almost treated her like Jurot for a moment, but she wasn’t Jurot, or Jaygak, or Kitool. He remembered their dates and cleared his throat.
Vonda smiled. “I do have a condition.”
“What is it?”
“The Priests I train must not be used for battle. They must remain within the estates to look after the workers.”
Adam thought for a moment. “I was hoping they could be sent out to heal those in battle, but I suppose it’s a small price to pay to have someone dependable like you at my side. Sure. You can train your Priests and other medical practitioners.”
Vonda couldn’t help but feel how light her heart felt when he mentioned her being at his side.
“I’ll pay them a small wage, but I’ll make sure to build you your own temple. I’ll try and donate some money to a temple of the good Mother, or your Order too.”
“Truly?” Vonda asked. “You seem to have thought deeply about the matter.”
“All I do is think, Vonda.” Adam chuckled, sipping more of his wine. “I’m pretty sure it would be bad if I didn’t do at least that much. Mahtu needs to be venerated properly, since she’s probably one of the most important Gods out there.”
Vonda reached out for his hand. “You need to be careful, Adam.” She squeezed his hand. “You are always working so hard.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Adam replied. “I almost died yesterday.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m taking the day off today.”
Lanarot stomped towards her brother, but seeing him reach for the panflute, she stopped. She groaned and quickly turned, retreating back to her aunts.
“Vonda, did you see that?”
“Yes.”
“Even when she betrays me she’s so cute. Look at those confident steps. I hope my children are as cute as her.”
Vonda smiled. “I am sure they will be. You are an Elf, with the beauty of Fae.”
“Sir Vonda, please,” Adam said.
“Excuse me,” she said, glad she was wearing a veil, hiding the gentle blush.
“I’m only half an Elf.”
Vonda sighed, before sipping the fruit wine. She remained with Adam, drawing beside him, all the while Adam played with Lanarot, hiding the panflute out of sight. She watched as Adam blew against Lanarot’s stomach constantly, causing her to squeal and cry.
‘Mother Soza, did you send me to him for a reason?’ Vonda thought. She was certain that it was Fate who had brought them together. He was the kind of guy that she-
She brought her stylus off the page, turning completely red. ‘No. He does not like me that way. He is just polite, like he is to most people.’
“Ahbooboo?” Lanarot asked.
“What do you mean? It’s not that bad!” Adam reached for his panflute, causing the girl to climb down to quickly run away. “Lanarot!”
Adam caught sight of Nirot, who was holding her own panflute. “Don’t do it,” Adam whispered.
Nirot smirked, bringing it up to her lips, inhaling deeply. ‘Finally! This is my revenge, Adam!’ She blew into the panflute, but in her excitement, she accidentally blew too hard, causing a shrill noise to fill the air.
Lanarot looked up towards Nirot in shock, before reaching for her ears. She opened her mouth wide, squinting her eyes as she began to cry.
Nirot was in utter shock. She hadn’t made a mistake like that in so long.
“Poor Lanababy,” Adam cooed, picking his sister up. “That’s it. I’ll never play the panflute again! I won’t let cousin Nirot bully you either.”
“I did not mean to do that,” Nirot said, noting the looks of the women, who held such disappointment in their eyes. “I am sorry.”
Lanarot kept screeching as she cried, holding her ears.
Mana: 18 -> 17
Spell: Healing Word
1D3 + 3 = 5 (2)
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Adam cooed, casting his spell to help her ears.
Lanarot felt the warm magic in her ears, and she stopped crying, feeling the tingling in her ears. She sniffled and groaned quietly, her ears twitching.
“Adam, you should not cast your magics so easily within the Iyr,” Mirot warned.
Adam glanced her way. “Even if Baktu asked me not to cast my spells, I would still heal my Lanababy.” Adam kissed the girl’s cheek.
“Who are you to say such things about Baktu?” Mirot wasn’t sure how Adam could be so audacious to speak of Baktu in such a way. Baktu, Lord of Death, he who was known to be the strongest of the Gods, and the one the Iyr prayed to above all else.
“Me?” Adam smiled. “I’m Adam, Nephew of the Rot family.” Adam glanced around, knowing that the God was listening. “Son of Fate.”
Vonda stared at Adam. ‘Is that why?’