‘Am I meant to just… stay here?’ Marshal Black thought, trying to understand his position within the group.

‘So they’re going to just… pay me to hang around with them now?’ Jane thought. ‘A gold a day, my food and housing taken care of, and I don’t even need to defend them?’

“How much can I spend?” Lucy asked.

“On what?” Adam replied.

“Gifts.”

“As long as you write the receipts, as much as…” Adam paused. “A hundred gold, but if you want to spend all of your own money, that’s fine too.”

‘A hundred gold?’ Jane thought, her eyes wide. ‘That much?’

‘A hundred gold?’ Lucy thought, her eyes narrows. ‘He’s holding back that much?’

Adam joined Lucy and Mara, with Jaygak tagging along, to buy the gifts for the children. They were in North Amber, meaning they could buy blades made of amberite.

“Adam,” Jaygak warned.

“Come on, Jaygak.”

“You were the one who wished to stop being so cringe, just for this season.”

Adam inhaled sharply. “Can I buy one for myself then?”

“Of course you can buy one for yourself, and not for any of the children.”

Jaygak’s words stabbed through Adam’s heart, causing the half elf to frown, and he decided against buying amberite items.

'They’re only about one to five hundred gold each, it’s not like I’m spending that much.’

‘Should I tease him more?’ Jaygak thought, however, Adam had been so well behaved recently, and she didn’t want to discourage him. ‘Is that what it felt like for you, Elder Zijin?’

Eventually, Adam made his way around the town by himself, needing some time to himself. He had been denied the right to spoil his children much, and though he could have started throwing gems worth hundred gold pieces, he needed to behave.

‘Just for this season. One season. I can do it. I’m only pretending to be cringe, I’m not actually cringe, but why does it feel so difficult? Did I ingrain the habit of being cringe and now it comes naturally?’ Adam frowned.

“You there!” shouted an older woman, with greying hair, the black dye beginning to fade, and dark grey eyes. Her skin held rivers of wrinkles, streams of marks of those who have lived far too long, and a simple necklace, which had been gifted to her family lifetimes ago. She carried a small dagger at her side, that was as black as death. She huffed, holding a sack over her shoulder. “Are you going to watch this old lady do all this work?”

“No, of course not, miss!” Adam replied, swiftly approaching the woman, reaching out for the sack.

“What? Do you think this old lady can’t carry a sack? Carry the rest, boy!”

“Right, right, of course, miss,” Adam said, lifting the two sacks to the side he hadn’t seen. It wasn’t so much they had been out of sight, it was that the woman’s presence had filled his sight. “Where to, miss?”

“Finally, a boy with manners,” the woman said. “Just follow me, we’ll be there sooner or later. Are you in a rush?”

“No, miss.”

“Lost in your thoughts, were you?”

“I was. I was thinking about-,”

“Did I ask?”

“Ah, no.”

“What were you thinking about.”

Adam blinked. ‘Is she a noble?’ “I was just thinking about my children. I thought…”

“Yes?”

“I thought, if I’m their father, won’t it be too difficult for them? I’m so… awkward, and I’m not strong enough to be as awkward as I am.”

“If you’re worrying about something like that, you’re decent enough. Boys these days, they don’t think of their family. There’s a brat, a foolish little sword dropper who ended up killing his own brother to take his house. Atrocious! If I had my way, he’d have his neck cut.”

“His own brother? What a wicked bastard.”

“How could he do such a thing? A man should never draw his blade against his own family.”

“I couldn’t imagine ever swinging my blade at my brother, even as a joke,” Adam said, giving up more to the woman, who thought about bullying him more, but since he was volunteering all this information, she decided to let him continue yapping away. “He’s scary, sure, but… I’d rather point my blade at the world than him.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“If only we had more Northerners like you.”

“I think you have enough Northerners like me, you’re all so… I wouldn’t say polite, polite is for the Southerners, who will smile when they poison your tea. Northerners? You guys are honest, but I know you’ll at least tell me before you stab me.”

The woman let out an approving grunt. “Is that puthral?”

“It is.”

“You close to the Iyrmen?”

“My brother is an Iyrman, but I’m not.”

“A half fae Iyrman would be a sight.”

“Right?” Adam chuckled.

“The King hates the fae.”

“I hear there’s another King that’s rather sweet to them.”

“There’s only one King of Aldland.”

“Yeah.” Adam smiled. “I haven’t been here long to understand the politics, or significance, of what’s been happening.”

“Where are you from?”

“A very far away lands.”

“That doesn’t answer my questions.”

“The… Greylands, but uh, it’s not really…”

“Destroyed?”

“Something like that,” Adam said, feeling a single tear drop down the side of his eye, leaving a chilly trail.

“You’re no Iyrman, so you’ll need to obey our laws.”

Adam smiled slightly. “I have heard they have a deal with Aldland so they can’t be punished.”

“No, but some of the Southerners, they’ll try it. Have you heard of the Southlake family?”

History Check (Intelligence)

D20 + 3 = 5 (3)

“Can’t say I have,” Adam replied.

The woman grunted in agreement. “A hundred years ago or so, around the time my father had been born, the small family was falling out of relevancy. An Iyrman fought a duel against one of their boys. It was a duel, a proper duel, and the Iyrman won through the only means. The family arrested her.”

The woman paused, recalling what her father had told her, and even after all these decades, she could remember his words. “The Iyrman stated her rights.” It was one of the only terms which chilled even her frozen heart. “She was let go after the family was reminded of the deal, but she was found dead, along with her companions. She had been… mutilated quite terribly, almost unrecognisably so, even her head had been scalped, tattoo and all.”

The old woman needed a moment to gather herself. “The Iyrmen had heard of what happened. The Chief went to speak with the Count, who told them they could speak to Baron Southlake himself. The Baron refused to submit himself for questioning, never mind the Iyr’s request of submitting himself to a spell to see if he was lying.”

“…” Adam could see where this was heading, since it was the Iyr.

“The estate was burnt to the ground. Many were killed. Nobles and servants. Men and women. The Count spoke with the Iyrmen at the time, but instead of the Chief, it was Elder Peace who met with him.” She glanced towards the half elf. “I’m sure you understand what that means.”

Adam slowly bowed his head.

“She was a younger woman, in her thirties, I recall, but she spoke with the older Count. To say he was tempestuous, is to say the Iyrmen like to partake in fighting. The Count wanted the Iyr to admit to their crime.”

Adam’s face remained taut, though he wished to smile.

“Do you know what the Great Elder said?”

“No.”

“Retribution has befallen the Southlake family, perhaps it would be best for them to give up their name. She sipped her tea politely, with the same politeness as the Southerners. The Iyrmen refused to admit to their guilt, but everyone knew. The family go by Southfair now. It was a great shame to them, but they should not have killed the Iyrman. One might have thought that burning the estate would have been enough for the Iyrmen, or perhaps slaying the family completely, but the family changed its name, and they found little trouble. One must never forget what a name means to the Iyrmen, for it is more precious than the piles of gold they hoard within their mountains.”

“Yeah.” Adam smiled, though it was a sad smile. ‘A name…’

“Here,” the woman said, to a small manor which had been built near the outskirts of the town, and the half elf spotted the number of guards in the distance patrolling.

Adam placed down the sacks, noting the way the woman reached into her pouch, pulling out her gold coins. “Ah, no, it’s alright miss. If anything, would you mind pointing me to the Grand Duchess’ estate?”

“Why?”

“I have some business with her.”

“What business?”

“Well, you see, I work for a business. The United Kindom, not to be confused with kingdom, we’re not a country, yet.” Adam winked. “We work near the Iyr. I have some business with the Grand Duchess to speak with her about… magical weapons, a friend of hers, and a sponsorship for the tournament.”

“A sponsorship for the tournament? The preliminaries have already begun, aren’t you ashamed you’re bothering an old woman like her this late?”

“Yeah, well, there were certain matters I had to deal with. Actually, we ended up deciding to join the tournament about half way through the last month. My brother and I, we both… well, our wives had children, and they gave birth, actually on the same day, and my brother…” Adam wasn’t sure what he should say. “You see, my brother’s an Iyrman. He grew up in the Iyr, and when it comes to showing affection to his child, well, he’s a little shy. He wants to win the tournament to bring back glory for his son, even though he already gained first place in the Noonval Tournament, while I managed to gain third place and… my daughter, she always bullies me about coming in third place, and this time, this time, I want to show her that her father is strong too, so I’m going to win the tournament too.”

“You wish to place first in the magical segment, and your brother wishes to place first in the martial segment?”

“That’s right.”

“Come inside, and I’ll pour some tea, and you can tell me your story. Bring in the sacks you were carrying, there’s a fresh batch of ice leaves that make the most wonderful tea.” The woman picked up her sack and carried it within, without even confirming with the half elf.

‘It’s not like I’m going to refuse tea.’ “Thank you, miss.” Adam stepped in, noting the woman taking off her boots before entering the home.

“Take off your boots.”

“Should I take off my armour?”

“I’m too old for you, boy.”

“Not a day over forty.”

The woman’s eyes snapped towards Adam. “Tongue like an Aswadian, you.” She then shuffled away, stepping through the living room to the kitchen, the manor a long room, with a door on either side of the wall half way within. It was built of wood, but not any kind of wood, for this wood was grey, a deep grey, one that was certainly befitting the North. The furniture was all wooden too, with long blankets over them, knitted by a woman with all the free time in the world. Adam noted the weapons strewn all about, all within arms reach, and all which were made of everything but steel.

Bronze. Brass. Silver. Gold. Jagite, and not just normal jagite, but true jagite. The amberite weapon, which was orange, with a blue hue when the light struck it, was the most impressive of all.

History Check (Intelligence)

D20 + 3 = 17 (14)

‘Hey, isn’t that-,’ Adam jolted as he noticed the two heavily armoured statues beside him, his heart beating wildly in his chest. One wore a blade, the other held a glave, rested across its shoulder, which probably cost more than Adam’s armour considering the runes across the blade. He could have sworn the statues were moving ever so minutely, as if breathing, but before he could check, the woman’s voice broke the silence.

“Hurry up, boy! The left sack has the leaves, and I can’t make the tea without the leaves!”

“Ah! Yes, miss.”

Adam didn’t notice the eyes through the visor following him.