THE IYRMEN
The six Iyrmen trekked through the thick forest within East Aldland, heading northwards. There was a singular Iyrmen who held the rank of Mithrilk, and the rest were all Bronze and Steel, save for the youngest, who had barely become a man.
“Come, Tonogek,” called Tonagek, grasping his son’s forearm to assist him up across the pile of trees which had fallen to block their way.
“We must be close,” Gortol said. He was the strongest of the group, and brought up the rear.
Raknuu, the scout of the group, wiped her brow, the noonval heat bearing down upon her. She narrowed her eyes and knelt down to examine the broken branches on the ground, before noting the discolouration.
It was then they felt it, the vibrations which ran through their bodies. The Iyrmen raised their weapons, Tonagek quickly darting to his son as the bushes nearby burst as the large form crashed towards them.
One head struck an Iyrman across the side, slamming them against the tree, before another darted towards him, trying to bite into his powerful thigh. A third head roared at Tonagek, and crashed against his longsword, while a fourth head slipped past towards the young Tonogek, who tried to slash at the head, barely nicking across the thick flesh.
The head managed to knock him aside, almost knocking the young Iyrman out in a single blow. A blade hummed in the air, as a flaming greatsword cut one of the many head apart, causing the hydra to roar and cry, before a pair of daggers sank into its side, each filled with deathly magic, turning its flesh flaky.
The last Iyrman, Arfan, struck across the creature’s back with his axes, one of which was icy, the other which was fiery. The hydra tried to swings its head to the side, only to find its head falling beside its feet.
“Why am I always the first one to get hit?” Mosen asked, rubbing the side of his neck. His blade was purely red, like that of his uncle. It was only a Basic magical weapon, unlike the blade which was his uncle’s namesake.
“Enough talking,” Raknuu said, managing to duck under a snapping set of jaws, before tearing into the side of the hydra’s neck, while Gortol’s flaming sword systematically worked on cutting the heads of the creatures, four heads already on the ground, while four remained upon the creature’s form.
Tonogek stood, raising his shield above him as he slowly stepped around towards the creature’s back. His heart was pounding, his fist clammy. A hydra was a great foe to face during an Outing, something which had stopped him complaining so much since he had been denied so many Outings in the past.
He circled around to its back, and once the hydra possessed only a single head, he stuck his blade into its hind. The hydra roared, but clamped down its jaw against an Iyrman’s thigh, tearing through his armour, before its head fell.
“Father!” Tonogek shouted, before darting towards the older Iyrman.
Mosen tackled the young Iyrman to the side as the hydra fell, almost threatening to crush him, before letting him go.
Tonagek flexed his muscles, managing to shrug off the fatigue which had struck him. He noted the lack of blood at his thigh, seeing that, luckily, the hydra had not managed to chomp down against his skin. ‘How fortunate.’
“Okay?” Tonogek asked.
Tonagek pat his son’s shoulder, smiling down at him. “You did well. You took a blow and returned it.”
The young Iyrman smiled from behind his helmet, before the pair embraced.
“We should part it quickly,” Raknuu said. “The other hydras may claim its territory and she should not be so close.” Before Mosen could respond with something funny, her eyes fell to Tonogek, whose armour was slightly dented from the heavy blow.
The group quickly went to work on butchering the hydra, before they packed the various hides atop their backs and began to head out. They trekked through the forest for some time before they began to make their little fort, spending close to four hours making a small camp.
“Did I not promise you a great Outing?” Tonagek asked, patting his son’s back.
“Yes,” the young man replied. “Once Tanagek returns, I will tell him I had struck a hydra.”
“If he tries to bully you about his adventures, I will be sure to deal with him,” Tonagek promised.
Tonogek smiled, biting into the hydra meat. His older brother was not much older than himself, though he had left the Iyr early to adventure, moving right before their cousin, who had already made a name for himself.
“I should request a new blade,” Mosen said, looking to his red sword. “I am firmly an Expert, so I call for my rights for a greater blade. Will you speak with your Nephew?”
Tonagek frowned. “If you wish to request a blade from him, ask him yourself. You have the gold.”
“I thought you would not like it if I asked him myself.” Mosen smirked.
“Must you joke so much, Mosen?” Raknuu asked.
Mosen chuckled.
Many days passed as the group trekked their way north, wanting the young Tonogek to experience a greater Outing. The Iyrmen travelled up using the river, swiftly making their way into North Aldland, though along the way they found a group of Tribesfolk, each of whom were under attack by rampaging aurochs. These were not the same aurochs one would find in the south, they were northern born, much tougher than their cousins found elsewhere.
Stolen novel; please report.
The Iyrmen descended upon the beasts with great fervour. Somehow, Tonogek managed to skewer one by himself, the rest making easy work of the aurochs. The dozen Tribesfolk, all Human, also drew their own weapons and magics to strike down the heavy creatures, with iron and fire.
“It is a pleasure,” one of the Tribesfolk said, clasping their her hands together. She was the oldest of the group, and had used magic to deal with the aurochs.
“We will claim some of the hide and horns, but we will leave the rest to you,” Gortol said.
The Tribesfolk smiled, offering the Iyrmen more, though they refused, allowing the Tribesfolk to take as much as they could back to their village.
Tonogek paid great attention between the dealings, knowing that the Iyr held treaties with many of the Tribesfolk. None were hostile to the Iyrmen, but there were a few which the Iyrmen were closer with, though such secrets were not revealed to him.
“It was fortunate we had come across them when we had,” Gortol said. Though the Tribesfolk were friendly with the Aldish of the north, they still preferred not to meet with them often. It was only when extreme situations occurred that they would petition for aid.
“You did well,” Tonagek said, patting his son’s back.
“Should we continue northward?” Raknuu asked. “This is a great Outing already.”
“Let us continue north, to North Amber,” Tonagek said. “It is good to see what was once the northern boundary, before the Aldish continued their expansion.”
The Iyrmen each continued their way towards the North, following the road which headed up along the hills, passed the towns. Gortol knew of a Dragon which lived nearby, though he was certain it was friendly with the nearby towns, with a secret alliance. Considering its position, it could have easily formed an alliance with three towns, across two different states of Aldland, but that was merely conjecture, and either the Iyr did not know of true matter, or it was not handed down to Gortol.
“Careful!” Raknuu shouted, noting the number of rukhs above them. The noonval sun above caused the air to seem hazy, even as they trekked up along the hills. It was a dangerous to move with so few, but they were Iyrmen, and so they could dare to move along the roads with only six of them.
The rukhs continued to circle around them, even as evening approached, and the group made their way to a nearby outpost which had been carved into the mountain. It was then the rukhs made their play, diving down towards them.
The ravenous birds tackled the Iyrmen, one each, before they tried to drag Arfan up with them, who caused them to regret such an action as the axes tore into them. The other Iyrmen all held similar luck, managing to deal with the rukhs effectively.
Tonogek cried aloud as he struggled against the rukh, which clutched at his shoulders with its wicked talons. Another rukh came to assist, noting that Tonogek was not striking at them, and assisted in carrying him off.
“Stop!” Tonagek grabbed the boy’s ankles, trying to climb up his son’s body in order to assist him, though the rukhs managed to lift him up further towards the mountain.
The Iyrmen on the ground continued to fight, trying to deal with their rukhs. Gortol slew two rukhs, before dashing towards the mountain, beginning to scramble up it, leaving behind the other Iyrmen to their fights.
It had taken him a short while before he came across a rukh, and Tonagek’s limping form in the distance. He dashed past the Iyrman heading towards the sickening screaming and shouting. He arrived moments after the young Iyrman fell silent, swinging his greatsword wildly to force the rukhs away. He tore into one with his flaming blade, which caused the others to flee.
Tonagek dragged himself forward towards his son, who was laying in a pool of blood. He reached down for his son’s helmet, removing it, seeing the boy’s face, which was covered in blood. The boy was still, and his body was becoming cold.
Tonagek remained silent, his hands brushing his son’s hair, feeling the hot blood which matted it. He let out a groan, bringing his son’s head to his chest. The rest of the Iyrmen found him a short time later. He remained silent, and the Iyrmen began to form the camp in the area.
THE CHILDREN
The trio of Dragons purred as they found a small cave, one which held the smell of a creature, though it was faint. They had travelled for a long while, and though they had some trouble on the way, they were finally within the mountains, where they could use the terrain to their advantage.
Unfortunately for the Dragons, a few days after they had found the cave, there appeared a large creature, the very same creature they had smelled and assumed had left this area.
The large furry figure roared at them before it barrelled towards them on all fours. The oldest of the Dragons, who was still tiny, leapt with frightening speed towards the rampaging creature, before darting to one side. The trio charged the large furry creature, nipping at it, but with a single swipe of its mighty claw, the eldest was batted aside, with fresh marks beside her eye. The tiny Dragons cried, before quickly scampering away from the violent creature.
They swiftly flew upwards, the youngest two guiding their eldest sibling as they flew, before they were far enough away to finally relax. They purred and cooed, licking at their sister’s wound to try and heal it.
A few days later, they approached a stream which they lapped at, and hunted some fish. They each lay within the stream to cool themselves off from the noonval heat.
They remained at the stream for some time, before the eldest felt something pull her towards it. She couldn’t smell it well, for the smell was dampened by water and earth, but there was just a hint of it which had flowed towards her. She swam down into the water, and nudged the dirt away, before she felt the magics of a small gem.
The magic within the gem was great, flooding all across the area. Even upon nuzzling against it, she could feel her entire body rocked with great power. She opened her maw and swallowed it. Her entire body glowed for a moment, causing her to float, before she finally dropped down.
Her siblings nuzzled against her, trying to understand what had happened, but the eldest fell asleep, the gem taking away her strength.
The Dragons remained at the stream for a short while longer, before four ferocious creatures descended upon them. They were smaller than the previous creature, but more nimble, and they worked well together. They circled around the Dragons, howling at the trio, before they leapt forward.
A sneeze later, and the four creatures froze. They remained airborne, stuck in time, covered in ice.
The Dragons turned to their sibling, who had awoken for a moment, her eyes glowing, before she slumped, returning back to her slumber, exhausted. Her siblings carried her along, making their way along the hills.
“Boss,” called a voice from nearby, staring at the three creatures. “Dragons.”
“Shut up, Jim. You’re always going on about…” Boss, whose name just so happened to be his occupation, stopped in the middle of slapping Jim against the back of his head. “Jim, there’s Dragons.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Boys, Dragons.”
“Dragons?” called the others, who stared down from the rocks above towards the Dragons, which were carrying their eldest sister.
“We’re going to be eating well soon, lads,” Boss said.
“I heard Dragon meat tastes good,” Jim stated.
“No, you idiot!” Boss slapped Jim across the back of his head, finishing what he had set out to do. “Baby Dragons must be easy to catch. Imagine we sell ‘em off. How much gold would we make?”
“You’re a genius, Boss,” Jim said, rubbing the back of his head.
“That’s why I’m the Boss.” Boss motioning with his blade, pointing at the Dragons. “Get ‘em.”