Somehow, Adam and his group were fortunate. Their journey from Red Oak to the villages was fraught with a boring nothingness, a boring nothingness Adam welcomed eagerly.
They had passed by two of the villages, and though they had found various creatures, their survival instincts made sure they left descendants, as they left the group be.
‘One more village,’ Adam thought, thinking about how close they were to the Iyr. The mud had slowed down their travel slightly, but they continued at a decent pace.
As evening threatened the party, Okvar stopped. He had been travelling at the front of the party, whilst Rasam brought up the rear. Jurot and Kitool both glanced aside, reaching for their weapons.
Adam heard it soon after, the whimpering and grunting, the sounds of something sloshing, almost like someone stepping in mud. Adam raised a hand back towards the rest of the group, and followed Jurot and the others ahead, with Dunes and Jonn following. They would be a strong enough group to deal with most things which wouldn’t outright kill them.
“Oh, fuck,” Adam groaned, looking away from the sight, while the Iyrmen stepped ahead.
There were a number of small creatures, small humanoids, with green skin, and leaf shaped ears. Many of them were thin, their arms no thicker than a tree branch, and those who were still living were injured. Most were dead, but there were three which were currently feasting on their dead fellows.
They turned and hissed towards the Iyrmen, their eyes bestial, their teeth jagged and full of green flesh. The creatures reached for their weapons weakly, but the Iyrmen quickly made little work of them, killing the group.
“Goblins?” Jurot said, noting the different cloths against their body.
“Two groups,” Okvar said, nodding his head. ‘There should not be Goblins so close to the Iyr…’
Kitool wasn’t sure how Goblins could starve nearly to death, but she noted the wounds on the various creatures, which had been dealt by the weapons within the group.
“They must have been forced away. They had clashed a short while ago,” Okvar said, scanning his eyes across the dozens of Goblins, all of whom were dead.
“What a terrible sight,” Dunes said, glancing down towards a half eaten Goblin, before noting something squirming against its stomach. He reached down and pulled up the woman’s skirt, revealing two tiny forms, each only slightly bigger than his hands. One of the tiny creature’s was still partly within his mother.
“Lady Arya, give me strength,” Dunes prayed, drawing his sword. He stared down at the tiny forms, watching as they twitched, barely able to breathe. His blade glowed, wanting to make their deaths painless.
“Dunes,” Adam called.
Dunes was about to ask Adam for a moment, before he felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. The pounding of his heart reached up into his ears, and he slowly turned his head, staring at the figure in the purple plate mail. The helmet hid much of Adam’s face, but he could see the eyes, the very same eyes which were glaring at Dunes.
The tone of voice Adam had used, the glare within his eyes, both suggested that Dunes was moments away from losing something. The Aswadian’s eyes fell to Adam’s hand, which clutched around a warhammer of Dwarven made, the other held his die, the same die which the Half Elf used to channel his spells.
“Adam?”
“What are you doing?” Adam asked, his eyes glued to Dunes. His heart and forehead both thundered, and his entire body was tense.
“I was going to send them to Baktu,” Dunes replied, his voice low, using the Iyrman’s name of the God of Death specifically.
The Iyrmen and Jonn watched the scene with bated breath, their eyes glued to the two forms. There was already the smell of blood in the air, some of which had been freshly spilled by the Iyrmen, but there was something else now too.
“Step aside, Dunes.”
Dunes remained standing, wondering what Adam was doing. “Will you send them along their way?” The Aswadian Priest wasn’t sure Adam had it within him, and no doubt the Half Elf wouldn’t be able to pray as well as he, regardless of how much time he had spent in the Iyr.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“No,” Adam replied, simply. He did not blink, not allowing even a moment to pass by without his focus.
“Then it should be me,” Dunes said, simply.
Adam’s hand twitched, and he slowly turned the warhammer, from the blunt edge to the pointed edge. “I asked you to step aside, Dunes.” Adam’s voice shook, just like his hand.
Dunes could see it building within Adam’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen before. Adam, who had been quiet on the journey back, filled with anxiety, stood before him like the old Adam, but not one he had the displeasure of meeting. Dunes, as slow and as careful as a cat, stepped away from the Goblin babies, while Adam slowly stepped towards them.
Their weapons were still out, but Dunes slowly began to sheath his sword, which had been a gift to him from the very Half Elf who was threatening to kill him. Even though Adam had lost Wizard’s Axe, and though Dunes’ blade was great and powerful, he wasn’t confident against Adam, especially not when his eyes were full of a fury he had never seen before.
Adam placed his warhammer down at his side, where it hung loosely. It had been easier to grab than his axe, and he had drawn the weapon when he had called for Dunes, just in case he needed to act. He knelt down into the earth, feeling the mud give in to his knee.
The Half Elf stared down at the two babies, both of whom were weakly breathing, their eyes shut tight. “Kitool,” he called, unsure of what he should do.
The Iyrman stepped up towards the Goblins and the Half Elf. She cut into the umbilical cords first, before she pulled out the boy, carefully. She brought up a cloth and began to wipe the baby clean, making sure to support the baby’s neck.
Adam did the same, holding the girl in his hand, before wiping her clean with his sleeve. “Can I use magic?”
“Yes,” Kitool said.
Spell: Tricks
Adam cleaned the babies up, getting rid of all the mud which had clung to their bodies. “Are they alright?”
“They seem fine,” Kitool said. “I am uncertain.”
Okvar eyed the babies up. He felt their skin with the back of his hand. “They are too cold. They will need to be kept warm.” Okvar spoke calmly, but his voice was full of authority. He reached out for the baby, and Adam let the girl go, before Okvar pulled the child into his top, holding the baby’s head with a hand, and Kitool did the same.
“Are there any others?” Adam asked, glancing between the Goblins, who were all in various states of death, for one reason or another.
“There are no more living children,” Jurot said, placing a hand on Adam’s back. “We should leave.”
Adam looked down at the half eaten Goblin who had given birth in such a state. He thought about how he had met the dire wolves, but this was so different. He stared at the woman, her eyes closed, her face almost calm. She was thin too, though she was not as thin as the others.
“You know,” Adam began, his voice weak. “The most surprising thing of all is how close this happened to the Iyr.”
“The Goblin tribes live towards Central Aldland, but sometimes they appear around these lands,” Okvar explained.
“That’s not what I mean,” Adam said, pulling his eyes away from the carnage. He let out a sad sigh, and brought his hands together. “I hope you take care of them, Baktu.” He looked to the two babies, daring not to find any more among the dead. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to take them just yet, though.”
The group returned back to the party, where they noted the two babes. The confusion filled the group as the situation was explained, the Iyrmen confused for a different reason than the others.
‘What were Goblins doing so close to the Iyr?’
‘Why did Adam save the two Goblins?’
“Can you cast your magic to make sure they don’t get sick?” Adam asked.
“Of course,” Vonda replied, slightly confused.
Dunes watched awkwardly as Vonda prayed over the children. ‘Was it because of Sir Vonda?’ the Aswadian thought, looking to Adam.
The Priest of Life was glad that the children hadn’t been killed. Even if it was a mercy to kill them, she would not have liked that. However, leaving the Goblins alive… ‘They will not live long.’ She wondered it such a thing was truly good, or if it was evil born from a weak heart.
The group made their ways some way away, further along the path. They eventually began to make camp, with Adam summoning his tower, though the upper level was used for the children.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said, awkwardly speaking to Rasam, though not looking her way. “Thank you, too.”
Rasam had taken the children and began feeding them, Okvar having assigned her the task. “It is okay.” She stared down at the Goblins, who were drinking from her hungrily. She wondered what Adam had done, and why. It was something that she, as an Iyrman, hadn’t expected. ‘He certainly is not Aldish.’
Mara stared at him from the side. She had been awake for less than a month, and had heard of Adam’s stories from the others, and they had all emphasised how he was queer. They all stated that he was crazy, and considering how he had gained a Dragon heart for her life, she assumed it was the case.
‘Ah,’ she thought. The others had stated he was kind, in a weird way, and though he seemed complicated, she could see that Adam was simple.
Adam left Rasam and Mara be, trusting Rasam not to do anything to the children considering she was breastfeeding them. He sighed, dropping down, wrapping his blanket around himself.
Jurot looked to Adam, noting the symbols on the blanket, before he pulled his own blanket around himself. The Iyrmen viewed Goblins very differently to the rest of the lands around them. However, he would not have acted like Adam, to protect the two newborns. Perhaps it was Adam who deserved the circle and diamonds most. Jurot smiled at the thought.
Adam stared at the sky for some time. ‘How could he do that? They’re not dire wolves, they’re babies. Babies. Dunes, damn it.'