It was a large building with a small door which opened to a tiny room, revealing some of what it had to offer. A young woman, who very much looked like a woman who grew up on bread, packed loaves from behind the counter. She was full bodied, and looked as though she smelt of pastries, with copper touched hair and acorn eyes. As the bell rang, her eyes darted up to take the sight of the pair of adventurers.

“Who are these strangers?” the young woman asked, already tasting the gold, her lips forming a tiny, greedy, smile.

Adam elbowed Jurot gently, motioning his head to the young woman, while his eyes danced around the myriad of pastries all around them.

“Hello,” Jurot stated as awkwardly as one could. “We have come to buy bread.”

“Buying bread in a bakery?” Pam teased.

“What he means to say is that he’s come to buy the best bread in Red Oak,” Adam said, patting his brother’s back. “Jurot, why don’t you tell her what our latest quest is while I pick out some bread for the group.”

Jurot crossed his arms, towering over Pam as he thought for a moment. “We are to assist with the outbreak.”

“Oh? Is it that bad they had to send so many strong…” Pam glanced to Adam, recalling he wasn’t an Iyrman, “adventurers? And an Iyrman at that, too.”

“There is a tyrantboar,” Jurot said, nodding his head.

“A tyrantboar?”

“It is a boar which is larger than even this room,” Jurot explained.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“I will defeat it,” Jurot assured.

“Can you?” Pam asked, before quickly gathering herself. “Of course you can, winner of the tournament that you are.”

“Spent all the gold you made betting on my brother?” Adam asked.

“I’m not sure I can spend all that much in just a year,” Pam replied. “I did buy a little bit of red oak.” The young woman reached down to her side, pulling up the small cube of red oak, clipped to her side by a strip of dark leather. “Some fruit wine from down the way too.”

“Do you like peach wine?” Jurot asked.

“Mm, though don’t get the chance often.”

“I will bring a bottle when I can.

“Aw, you don’t have to do anything like that.”

Jurot fell silent, unsure of how to respond to her, or where to take the conversation.

“You know, Jurot here, is the best uncle,” Adam began, patting his brother’s back.

“Uncle?”

“Oh yeah. He’s always looking out for my children. I’m not going to gush about how adorable they are, I mean, look at me.” Adam stroked his jaw. “How can they not be adorable when they have such a handsome father, but speaking of handsome, Jurot, he’s so good with the kids. Our little sister, Lanarot, she’s always happy to see him, and they play so well. He might look like a hunk of steel, and I do mean both hunk and steel more literally, but he’s soft where it counts.”

Pam blinked, smiling politely towards the half elf, barely understanding anything he was talking about.

“Speaking of steel, we’re aiming to reach the rank this year,” Adam said, doing his best to help out his brother. “We’re probably going to be steel after the outbreak, and when that happens, we’ll be sure to come here to buy all kinds of bread and pastries. We won’t be leaving until we’ve spent at least ten gold, probably more.”

“I will pray for you,” Pam assured, flashing a more eager smile.

The bell rung behind them, an older man stepping into the bakery, finding a pair of adventurers within. “Oh, oh dear, pardon me,” he said, beginning to retreat.

“No need for that, sir,” Adam said, placing down three gold coins. “We were just heading out. I’ll order a few loaves of bread and then however many fruit tarts and desserts I can afford with most of the rest of the coin. Keep a few silvers as a tip.”

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The pair left the bakery, making their way back to the guild, where their companions awaited for them and the bread.

“Hey, you know, about Black Blood, what was all that about?” Adam asked.

“He wished to claim the fort so he could be paid more,” Jurot replied.

“Oh. Is that it?”

“He may have wished to fight you because of your tone.”

“What’s wrong with my tone?”

“It invites trouble.”

“…”

As Adam entered, ignoring the gazes of most of the people around, he caught Lucy’s eyes. He let out a soft sigh, shrugging his shoulders in response to her question.

“Once you defeat the tyrantboar, you can talk to her about that,” Lucy assured the Iyrmen.

“Okay,” Jurot replied.

Omen: 1, 14

“What do you think?” Adam asked, holding a cup in hand, inspecting the craftsmanship.

“They will show gratitude for anything you bring,” Vonda replied.

“Yeah, but I want to bring them something nice. I think I brought a bunch of cups last time, maybe I should bring some plates?”

Adam and Vonda continued to explore the market together. Adam spotted some jewellery nearby, eyeing up the various pieces of brass, copper, and bronze. After spending more money than he cared to admit on the jewellery, he reunited with Vonda near a book stall, where the young woman was skimming through various books, feeling the paper against her hands.

“Al Tasad’s paper,” the merchant began, before making all manner of noises. He was an Aswadian man, older, in his fifties, with a turban hiding his hair. He wore a thick beard, dyed red and orange, and was adorned in colourful attire of the Aswadians. A sabre dangled at his side. “Unmatched, unmatched, for sketches. Sir Vonda, this book, this book will appear in your dreams if you do not buy it, yes?” The merchant revealed a larger book, allowing Vonda to feel its paper.

“Do you have any for painting?”

“I have a book from Zufar,” the merchant nodded, reaching out for one of the books at the bottom of a pile. “The trees in Zufar, cut down now, the war, but still so beautiful. I took my wife, yes, and she keeps asking when we go back.” The merchant chuckled. “The trees, make the best bows, the best books, for how can a scholar be a scholar without warriors, and how can a warrior be a warrior without scholars?”

“What is their price?”

The Aswadian merchant reached up towards his thick beard, swaying his head from side to side, as though the question had been totally unexpected. “For you, Sir Vonda, or for this handsome young man who is no Iyrman but wears Iyrman puthral?”

Sir Vonda glanced to the side to see Adam patiently waiting, holding a sack full of gifts. She quickly glanced back to the merchant. “For me.”

“One woman, two books, three gold,” the dark skinned merchant said, extending a finger for each statement, starting with his pinky as he formed the sign for okay, before he dismissed the words as easily as he had said them.

‘Damn,’ Adam thought. ‘That’s so expensive!’

“So cheap?” Sir Vonda asked.

“In duskval, when I am in Liferiver, I am always happy,” the merchant replied, waving his hand towards her to stop any more argumentation about the price. “If they know I sell you these books for more, what will they think of me?”

“If it pleases you, mister Badhl,” Vonda said, handing over the coins for the books.

“You’re familiar with puthral?” Adam asked.

“Noorhabi, if I did not know the steel of Iyrmen, I would not be allowed to sell sand to the Shen,” Badhl replied, eyeing up the young man whose turban covered his ears. “When the Iyr has fae?”

“When my brother adopted me.”

“Brother? You are Iyrman’s brother?”

“I am.”

“He is,” Sir Vonda said.

The merchant pulled back, eyeing up the half elf more obviously now. “How is this?”

“We share a sister,” Adam said. “She’s very cute.”

The merchant smiled, though his eyes quickly flashed with darkness, and his lips faltered. “Yes, it must be so. Your sister, Iyrman?”

“She is.”

The merchant slowly nodded his head. “The Iyr, well known in our lands.”

“Where are you from?”

“From, how you call, South Aswadasad, but we are now Zuhdi Ejirate.”

“Oh. Is that far from Black Mountain?” Adam asked.

“We are opposite side,” Badhl replied, motioning with his hand on an invisible map. “You know of Black Mountain?”

“We have a few friends from there,” Adam admitted. “Don’t have many friends from Aswadasad, but they’re all from Black Mountain, and the surrounding region. We know a few others, but yeah.”

“You have been in Aswadasad?”

“Not yet, unfortunately.”

“Very warm, too warm for Aldishmen, it is why they could not conquer land,” Badhl chuckled. “Is too cold in Aldland, is why we could not conquer land.”

‘Is every merchant from Aswadasad this funny?’ Adam though, smiling at the merchant. “I’ll, uh, how much for your books?”

“Each book, five gold. Book from Al Tasad, ten gold.”

Adam whistled, glancing over to Vonda. “I’ll grab five, no, six books, no…” Adam thought deeply for a moment. “One second, I need to count in my head.” ‘I should probably get one for each kid. Ah, but if I grab these, we’ll have less money for more gifts.. One for my sister, one for my children, one for the first set of babies, one for the second set of babies, and one for Churot. What is that? Five? Five books? Though, should I really be buying those sort of books for them?’

Eventually, Adam brought one book, a book from Al Tasad, before they said their goodbyes to Badhl.

“You know the merchant?”

“I would save up coin every month to buy books from him every duskval,” Vonda admitted. “Sometimes, if I was lucky, he would have a book from Al Tasad or Zufar.”

“I hear they have good paper,” Adam joked. “Ah, right, I bought you a gift too, Sir Vonda. You’re always the best, so here.” Adam reached into his sack to reveal a scarf he had brought for her, which had cost him quite the pretty gold coin. The scarf was a lighter shade of pink, though Adam would only be able to refer to it as pink.

Vonda’s eyes smiled, before she reached into her own pack, pulling out a scarf of purple, which she would have referred to as something else, due to its meaning. “I brought you a gift too, Adam.”

“Great minds think alike,” Adam replied, trading the scarf with her. “I do quite like the colour of purple. Thank you, Sir Vonda.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Vonda replied, pulling up her own scarf higher to hide her flush, which was a certain type of red, which had its own meaning.