Adam had wished for a hot bath, a proper hot bath, with the steam rising against the tiles, and his favourite soap that would create such a thick lather across his body. He supposed that a warm bath in the wash room of a small inn, with a near rock like soap was good enough.
‘Thank all the Divine I’m a Half Elf,’ Adam thought. As someone with some Fae ancestry, Adam did not sweat quite as much, and he didn’t smell too bad after a long day.
Once the group were together they ate the leftovers of meat and potatoes, which had cooled over the evening. They glanced between one another while eating quietly, leaving their words unspoken. Adam could see the innkeeper from the corner of his eye, whose eyes would sometimes wander towards the group of four who had arrived in the dead of night.
“Okay,” Adam whispered in the Iyrman’s tongue. “No more ransacking and burning down castles.”
“Okay,” Jurot replied.
“We’re probably not going to be able to sell off anything in this place.”
Jurot nodded.
“I do think… that was my bad. I’m sorry about that.”
“It was he who wished to fight,” Jurot replied. “If he wished to take the blade, it was only through killing us.”
“I received this blade so recently, I don’t want to give it up, yet!” Jaygak wrapped an arm around her blade, feeling its magic coursing through her.
“Will you ever give it up?” Adam asked, raising his brow.
“I might.”
“How can you do this to me?”
“I may gift it to Raygak.”
“Fine, but only because I adore Raygak so much.”
“You do not play with him enough.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you.”
Jurot reached into his pocket, pulling out the map which a local from the town over had drawn for them. It had cost them a gold though it was not worth a gold, but paying a guide well made sure they didn’t get any bright ideas.
“We will be able to travel at least forty miles tomorrow if we continue to trade horses.”
“Can we afford it with all the horse trading?” Adam asked.
“Yes. We will be able to sell the jewellery once we are further away.”
“That makes sense.”
They left early in the morning and continued to trade horses along the way, before they finally approached a town at night. A few gold shorter, and with the guard’s warnings, they made their way to the inn to stay the night.
Omen: 4, 14
“Alright, we’ve probably travelled far enough?” Adam said, biting into his hot, buttered potato.
Jurot nodded. “We should find work within the area and earn a letter.”
“Yeah, good idea. We should be careful with the…” Adam glanced aside to the other travellers, who were pretending not to be listening to the heavily armoured individuals. ‘Right, the guards did say we weren’t allowed to wear all of our armour…’
Adam kept only his breastplate as he made his way through the town, noting how many people were glancing his way, giving him a wide berth. He supposed the trio of Iyrmen didn’t help, since they were each armed, with Jaygak also wearing her breastplate.
“Great warriors!” shouted a young man, ringing a bell between his statements. “Great warriors! Join the Lord! Join the Lord! Great warriors! Great warriors! Join the Lord! Join the Lord!”
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Adam exchanged looks with his companions, before noting the noticeboard. They stared at the board, littered with small parchments filled with information, some important, some less so. One, however, was unlike any other. It was not filled to the brim, with its letters large and looming, its information sparse, yet the parchment itself was thrice as large as any other around it.
FOR GOD AND GRACE
FOR GOLD AND GLORY
MONSTERS RAVAGE THE LAND
HONOURABLE WARRIORS HEED THE CALL
FORTUNE AWAITS
“Hmm,” Adam said, staring at the paper, which gave no information about what to do.
“Misters and madams,” a young child called, rushing over to them, before clasping their hands in front of themselves. Adam wasn’t sure if it was a boy or girl, but they were definitely only ten or eleven. Their hair fell down beneath their ears, their eyes dark. They wore simple clothing, and seemed to be quite clean, though they definitely seemed to give the aura of an urchin. “Do you wish to assist the lord?”
“Something like that,” Adam replied.
“For a small fee I can assist,” the child said. “I know where the lord is gathering the great warriors!”
“How much of a small fee?”
“A silver.”
“Sure,” Adam said, tossing a silver towards the child, who snatched it from the air, clamping it tight within their hand.
“Please follow me!” The child turned and swiftly made their way through the town, heading towards the castle.
‘Even I knew it was going to be near the castle,’ Adam thought, but the four followed the child out towards the castle. The child led them slightly out of the way, around the castle than towards it, towards an open area. A small outpost had been built nearby, and Adam supposed it was either for soldiers or guards. The large field adjoining it was full of warriors, a few dozen at least. Many were young men and women, but some were older, adorned in chain, carrying blades and axes at their sides.
One man seemed very different than all the others. He had tan skin, green eyes, short and wavy hair, brown with grey streaks. He wore a breastplate, and carried a blade at his side. He held the widest smile on his face as he watched the sparring warriors, each of whom sparred against one another.
Adam and the others approached, feeling the eyes of the guards eyeing the group up. They noted the breastplate, one made of steel, the other of puthral, then they noted the weapons at the sides of the four.
Adam spotted a few people with reddish skin, though none wore horns atop their heads like Jaygak.
A knight stepped up to the group, a woman who was a wall of steel, carrying a large glaive on her back. “Are you here to join the hunting party.”
“If the pay’s good,” Adam replied. He noted his companions look his way, noting how he had almost instantly opened his mouth to respond.
“The lord pays well for those who work well.”
“I sure ho-,” Adam fell silent as Jaygak elbowed his side. “Of course.”
The knight narrowed her eyes through her visor, while the others began to look towards their way. The Lord stepped up towards the newcomers, flanked by two guards in chain, while another knight, adorned in plate mail, stepped around towards the four’s backs.
“I can see that you are all experienced,” the Lord said, eyeing up the group. He noted the way they stood, their armour, their weapons. These four were not nobodies like most of those who had arrived to try and claim fame and fortune.
“We like to think so,” Adam replied.
“I am Baron Kegan Rockcastle.”
“Adam.”
“Jurot.”
“Jaygak.”
“Kitool.”
“Where do you hail?” the baron asked.
“We have come from very far away to make a name for ourselves,” Jurot said. “We slew many great creatures from our land, but wished to make our way in new lands.”
The baron noted how he hadn’t responded to his question, but he let it go. “How strong are you?”
Jurot glanced between the knights. “I could face your knights well.”
“Can you defeat them?”
Jurot thought for a moment. He was pretty certain they didn’t want to start a fight with the noble this time. “If I held back, I would certainly lose.”
The vague response caused the baron to smile. However, Jurot had taken a step back, showing the baron and his knights respect, even if he meant something else entirely. “Charles, test this one.”
“By your will, my lord,” one of the guards standing nearby said. He was a middle aged fellow, in his early forties, wearing chain, and wielded a blade and shield.
Jurot pulled up Phantom and held it in hand, his eyes glued to the guard ahead of him.
“You won’t use your shield?” Charles asked.
“No,” Jurot replied. “I wish to show off.”
“Don’t regret it!” Charles growled.
Once the pair were ready, the baron smiled, reaching up with his hands. “You may begin.” He clapped his hands once.
Charles waited to see what the young Iyrman would do. Unfortunately for him, giving an Iyrman a chance to make the first move was always a bad idea. Jurot rushed in towards him like a boar, swinging his axe wildly. The pair clashed, though it was only for a moment.
Charles skid back, feeling the throbbing against his shield arm. He stared at the Iyrman in shock, bringing his shield up once more, dropping to a knee as the blow shook through him into the earth.
“At least he’s not holding back that much,” Adam said, noting that other than not using his shield, Jurot was doing his best to crush Charles.
Charles managed to strike Jurot against his side, a glancing blow against his iron skin, which did more to his clothes than his body. Charles’ eyes went wide, and he stepped away from the red Iyrman.
Jurot marched forward, raising his axe once more.
‘This kid is a damn monster!’