Chimir reached up towards her father’s face, almost digging for gold within his nostrils, though the older man snatched her tiny hand and leaned down to rub his cheek against her forehead. She was hot to the touch, as children tended to be at this age. Chimir giggled.

“Dada! Be’id tickying,” the girl protested as she tried to squirm away from it, giggling wildly.

“You used to tug it when you were small but now you ignore it,” Ashmir replied, brushing her hair back, rubbing her forehead with his thumb.

“Be’id ih white,” the girl said, pointing to the thick beard of her father, which was black and sprinkled with heavy white all through it, though his hair was darker.

“I had no stresses but now I have five daughters and one son, how can I not worry?” Ashmir replied, placing his hand over his daughter’s face, as though swallowing her head with his large calloused hands, causing the girl to squirm again. He could feel her giggles against his palm before he pulled away his hand to reveal his white smile, causing the girl to shriek with joy.

‘Mmm…’ the old man thought. ‘Five daughters… and two sons?’

“Ashmir,” Mamir called, the older woman the Family Elder of the Mir family. “Visitors have come.”

“Chimir,” Ashmir said, setting her down, before leading her out, letting her half stumble after him. Ashmir didn’t need to check the Iyrman’s forehead to see which family he was from, for he was a familiar enough sight to the Aswadian.

“Ashmir,” the Iyrman called, grinning wide, reaching out his hand. He was strongly built, as Iyrmen were, but unarmoured. At his side was an axe. He carried a bandoleer of clay bottles.

Ashmir bowed his head and shook the Iyrman’s forearm. The relationship between them was complex, for this Iyrman was the reason why Ashmir was no longer a slave gladiator, and Ashmir was the reason why this Iyrman was no longer a Great Elder. “Bovin.”

“I have brought drinks,” Bovin said, grinning wider.

“Chimir, go find your mother,” Ashmir said, brushing the girl’s hair once more, before she darted off to go find her mother. “Are the drinks as sour or hot?”

“Hot,” Bovin assured.

The pair settled down for the evening for a chat, while chaos brewed with the Aswadians in Adam’s party.

Omen: 2, 3

‘Oh no,’ Adam thought, staring up at the ceiling. ‘What is going to happen today?”

The half elf decided to spend a long while within the guild baths that morning, before making his way down, finding his party already midway through breakfast.

“Bad luck?” Jurot asked.

“Yeah.”

Adam’s breakfast was made up of lightly salted and peppered potatoes and eggs, as it almost always was, as well as a pitcher of hot milk. He decided to eat a bowl of porridge with a teaspoon of a sweet syrup, just in case.

“Dunes, mind coming with me to the market?” Adam asked.

“I do not mind.”

“I will come too,” Amira said. “I have some business at the market.”

“Sure,” Adam replied, hiding his smirk as he glanced towards Dunes.

The trio made their way a short while after breakfast, finding the market was still fairly busy, even during working hours. Adam kept his axe by his side and the pair of Aswadians kept their blades at their sides, though they all left their armour behind. Wearing armour within town caused more trouble than it was worth, and they were all confident in their health, the trio all at least Experts.

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“Hmm,” Adam thought, eyeing up the ore on offer.

“You cannot find this quality of steel within Aldland,” the Aswadian merchant said. “This is mined near the Shen’s Mines.”

“How did you come to possess ore from near the Shen’s Mines?” Dunes asked.

“This ore, it was bought by a smith, but it was traded to me,” the Aswadian merchant said, his hands swaying through the air. “I kept it close to sell to the right buyer in Aldland, only the buyer with the eyes to see its value.” He clasped his hands together expectantly.

Adam reached down to his amulet. “Lord Sozain, guide me.” He prayed lightly before he checked the ore with a more intense eye.

Spell: Guidance

1D3 = 2 (2)

Smithing Check (Intelligence)(Guidance)

D20 + 6 + 2 = 23 (15)

“The ores pretty good,” Adam admitted, his eyes falling across the mass of ore before him. “I’d like to check the entire crate, and if the ore’s still good, I’ll take the entire crate.”

The Aswadian merchant raised up his hands, allowing the half elf to sift through the ore.

“How much?” Adam asked.

“One hundred gold.”

It was pricier than typical ore, but the quality was pretty high, and there were different types of iron than just the common variant smiths were used to in Aldland. Once the gem was passed over the Aswadian double checked its weight.

“You are from Black Mountain?” the merchant asked in their tongue.

“We are,” Dunes replied.

“How is it that this friend has company of Black Mountain?”

“We met a few years ago, and I joined his party to adventure.”

“You will return to Black Mountain soon?”

“In a few years,” Dunes replied. It wasn’t a lie, since he would need to in order to speak with the Priest Commander.

The Aswadian merchant replied with a gentle sway of his head, before he double checked the gem’s weight and cut, before the Aswadian reached under his stall and brought out a dagger. “This dagger is made from Aswadian steel.” He held it out with both hands. “Consider it a gift.”

“Oh?” Adam replied, reaching out for the dagger. “Thank you.”

With the merchant paying the proper respects to the members of the order, the group continued their way, with Adam handing out coins for the various walkers. The group made their way through the market, and Amira pretended to gaze among various items.

“What about this sword?” Adam asked. “You’ve been with us for a bit, so the business should repay you properly for your service.”

“I have no need for a…” Amira noted Dunes’ expectant look. The young woman sighed. “Thank you, Adam.”

Adam beamed as he bought her a blade, one which was slightly more expensive than a typical longsword, but nothing which provided a bonus to dealing death to its foes. Later, Adam spotted several blades made of different metals, each with different properties.

“What do you think?”

“We have enough blades, Adam.”

“Hmmm…” Adam thought for a long moment. “It doesn’t feel right that we’ve spent coin on Amira and Korin when we haven’t spent coin on Sara…” ‘What can I even get for her?’

Dunes also thought about what the noblewoman might want. “Perhaps…” Dunes thought about Adam’s meeting with the Duchess tomorrow. ‘Is that a good idea?’

‘It’s not like I can buy her jewellery,’ Adam thought. ‘Even if I wanted to enchant it. Should I have Korin buy her something and then say the Enchanter will enchant it?’

‘He’s thinking about something stupid,’ Dunes thought, seeing Adam’s face.

“You know, a dagger is just a tiny sword,” Adam said, and even though he could see the offence within their faces, Adam committed to his words. “A dagger would be nice in case she’s in a terrible position where she needs a dagger.”

“An expensive gift.”

“Would she think so?” Adam asked. “She is a noble, so it should be alright?”

Amira raised her brows towards Adam, causing him to smile innocently in return.

Once the business had paid for the dagger, a dagger made by a great smith, the group continued to travel through the market, buying bits and pieces as souvenirs, before finally returning back to the guild.

“Does he always buy so many gifts for the children?” Amira asked. She was fairly certain Adam had spent far too much coin on such gifts already.

“He is holding back.”

Amira narrowed her eyes towards Dunes, before her eyes fell back onto Adam. ‘…’

‘The ore should be good enough for a few weapons for the kids,’ Adam thought. ‘Raygak and Saygak’s birthdays have already passed… should I have sent them birthday wishes?’

“Adam,” Vonda called. “May I accompany you to meet with the Duchess?”

“Sure,” Adam replied, thinking nothing of it.

“Thank you.”

“Any time.”

Vonda remained silent, deep in thought for the rest of the evening.

Omen: 7, 16

The adventurers within the guild fell silent as a heavily armoured knight stepped into the guild. She wore full plate mail, each piece engraved with all manner of symbols. Her cape was thick, a deep blue which represented the Duchess’ personal guard, with golden trim also designed with tiny patterns which shimmered in the light. She carried a blade at her side with was slightly longer than a typical blade, seemingly made silver, with blue gem accents for the pommel and hilt.

Her heavy steps had silenced the Adventurer’s Guild, but her sheer size and presence forced the silence to linger. The knight marched towards Adam, her shifting armour breaking the silence, before she stopped abruptly before the half elf, towering over him.

“The carriage is prepared for your departure.”

‘Isn’t it still morning?’ Adam thought. However, for once, he decided against aggravating the noble before him.