“Jurot,” Adam called, his eyes scanning across the area. “This is the Front Iyr, isn’t it?”

A large town welcomed the group, with many Iyrmen moving about. There were a great number of children moving all about, but there were far more older Iyrmen, many of whom wore tags of silver, mithril, and through the crowds of Iyrmen, glinted tags of gold.

More awkwardly, the entire area was covered in snow, hiding most of the Front Iyr from their eyes, though its silhouette was so different.

Jurot blinked. “Yes.” He was certain that this place, which had already grown three times larger previously, had doubled in size again. It made sense after hearing that Elder Story had left. The snow wasn’t out of the ordinary, since a Raith was nearby.

“Adam!” The voice boomed from nearby. He was taller than the average person, adorned within plate mail made of flamedarksteel, which betrayed his rank among Fire Giants. He carried at his side a giant blade, one which would been impossible for any man to wield. It was too big, more like a slab of iron, than a blade. His skin was dark, his hair fiery red.

“Lord Morkarai,” Adam called, before he shook the Fire Giant’s hand. “Have you been well?”

“I have. It has been some time.”

“A little while at least,” Adam replied, wondering when he had last seen the Fire Giant. “You missed my children’s first birthday.” Adam frowned.

“A shame,” the Fire Giant replied, his brain working hard to try and find a way to make such a thing right. “Perhaps I’ll forge a weapon for them?”

Adam smiled. “Well, if you insist.”

“Come, sit with me,” he said, leading Adam, and his companions, through the Front Iyr.

Adam noted that the estates had increased, the Front Iyr’s borders spanning further out from before. ‘Why the hell’s it still snowing?’ Nightval had passed two and a half months ago, yet the Iyr was still covered in fresh snow.

They arrived towards the centre, where three figures sat. Two of them were Drakken, though Adam was sure they were Dragons. The bronze scaled man grinned towards the group, while the black scaled woman eyed the rest of the group up. They had managed to smell the group before they had seen the large group arrive.

“A new axe?” Burgwing, the bronze scaled Drakken, asked, raising his brow.

“Yes,” Adam replied, patting it. “It’s named Wraith.”

“A fine name,” the Drakken said, his smile faltering for a moment. “Is it named after the Undead?”

“Yes.”

Burgwing relaxed visibly. It sounded far too much like Raith for his liking. “What does it do?”

“Oh, this and that,” Adam replied, taking a seat opposite them. “How have you been?”

“The Iyr treats us well,” Burgwing said.

“Always does,” Wingburg, the black scaled woman, said.

Adam was still annoyed they decided to call themselves Burgwing and Wingburg. They didn’t give away their identities to Adam, though he assumed Jurot and the others knew. Burg was the name of some Black Dragons, and Wing was the name for some Bronze Dragons.

Adam looked towards the third figure, a beardless Dwarven woman, though she was neither a Dwarf, nor a woman. She was drinking slowly from a barrel of ale. He decided against saying anything to her, since she disliked Fae regardless, and it wasn’t a good idea to speak with someone enjoying a drink like that.

“Are you eager to sell the axe?” Burgwing asked.

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“No.”

“Come now, young man,” he said. “Having such an axe, and being an Elf, even half an Elf, will cause you trouble around these parts.”

“That’s why,” Adam began, reaching down to his axe, before the metal shifted, forming a ring around his finger, “it can do this.”

“A neat trick, but not enough to confuse the senses of a Dragon.”

“Sure, but another Dragon coveted what was mine, and found itself becoming scales which I’ve gifted to a great many children within the Iyr,” Adam replied. “That isn’t even to mention Vandra, who was the first Dragon to try it.”

“Yet you’ve given your spear to Entalia,” Burgwing joked.

Adam raised his brows. “I expected you to be more gentlemanly than that.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell the axe?”

“Unfortunately for you, this axe will one day belong to the Rot family, so I don’t think you can afford to keep it,” Adam stated, simply.

Burgwing looked to Jurot, who wielded an equally great weapon at his side. “Is that true?”

“If my brother says it is true, then it must be true,” came the Iyrman’s response.

“I suppose if it’s called for by the Rot family, I’ll have to step back.” Burgwing sighed. “I’ll apologise for being so forward.”

“It’s alright,” Adam said. “I’m sure if I was a Dragon, I’d want this axe too.”

Burgwing smirked.

Lord Stokmar sighed, placing down the barrel. “I thought I smelt something awful.”

“How are you, Lord Stokmar?” Adam asked, doing his best to keep his voice polite.

“Hmph,” she replied. “How are your children?”

“They’re well,” Adam replied. “The twins are so chubby and cute. They’re so mean though, cackling at me when I told them I was leaving. They can say dada now, and they can walk around if I hold their hands.”

Lord Stokmar wondered why the Goblins were growing up so slowly. “What of the Dragons?”

“They’re cute too,” Adam replied, cautiously. Lord Stokmar hadn’t been so interested in his triplets before. “They pouted when I told them I was leaving, but I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Hmm,” Lord Stokmar replied, grumbling to herself quietly. She eyed up the two Dragons, before dropping the topic.

“We’ll be heading out soon,” Adam dared to continue. “I probably can’t afford something great enough for you, but would you like me to buy some drinks for you?”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Yes.”

“Hmph,” Stokmar replied. She could at least appreciate that he didn’t lie. “Bring me something good from Ever Green,” she said, before remembering it was currently at war, “or Red Oak, or the north.”

“I will surely do so,” Adam said, smiling politely towards the Lord of Earth.

‘Right,’ Burgwing thought. ‘He’s close with Entalia, Lord Stokmar, and he was close with the old Emperor too.’

Morkarai sipped some of his own wine, sighing. He was glad that the numbers of monsters in the Iyr had halved. There had been Lord Strom, also known as Emperor Hadda, was well as Emperor Shama, Lord Stokmar, and the old Raith. He still wasn’t sure which Raith he was, but it was more than likely Wiseraith. One Emperor had died, and the other had disappeared sometime in the Twilight Month, allowing the snow to cover the entirety of the Front Iyr.

‘I shouldn’t steal his axe later,’ Wingburg thought, the black scaled woman thinking about the amount of trouble she would get into. She looked to Jurot, who had stated he was Adam’s brother. If it had been Adam alone, she wouldn’t have minded, but annoying an Iyrman too?

“How long will you be gone?” Morkarai asked.

“Not sure,” the Half Elf admitted. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, and then we might also deal with the Noonval Tournament in East Port. Well, we’ll be heading back during late duskval, since it’ll be my twins’ first birthdays. I can’t miss it, not since I didn’t miss my triplets’ birthdays.”

“I’ll make something for them too,” Morkarai said, sipping more of his wine. Adam had already refused becoming a Hill Lord, but there were other ways to tie them together. “You should come to our volcanoes. I would be willing to host you in my court.”

“What’s that like?”

“We invite guests to show off to our family,” Morkarai said, before smiling slightly. “You would be a great guest.” Adam would no doubt be a one of a kind guest, one that would make all of his siblings annoyed. If he could somehow get his father interested in Adam, he was certain that their prestige would increase.

“How would I be someone you show off?” Adam asked.

“How would you not be someone to show off?” Morkarai replied.

“I suppose I am pretty handsome.”

“If you would be willing to come for some time, I would allow you to use my personal forge,” Morkarai offered.

“Ho?” Adam replied, leaning in.

“It grants one a bonus to enchanting, and an even greater bonus towards enchanting weapons with the fire property.” Morkarai’s words were like honey as Adam continued to lean in.

“I might have to check that out,” Adam said. “I suppose it would be nice to make a flaming swo-, axe.”

“We could hunt a wyvern for a flame core,” Jurot said. “It would assist in creating a great weapon that uses flames.”

“We should do that.” Adam nodded his head slowly, wondering how great such a weapon would be.

“Aswadasad has a great many creatures in its deserts,” Dunes stated. “We could hunt a creature there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam replied, nodding his head a little quicker, before stopping. “Isn’t Aswadasad currently in the midst of a civil war?”

“Yes,” Dunes replied, almost longingly.

“Perhaps not, then.” Adam frowned. “The Aldish civil war might be awkward to navigate too…” ‘Two civil wars at the same time in the two regions which have been stable for millenia?’ Adam thought about his Omens. ‘There’s no way, is there?’