“What a queer young man,” Lykan said. “He wishes to meet Sonarot and speak with the Chief? In that order?” The Elder tapped his finger along the table.

He was surrounded by Argon and Tazwyn, both of whom had been speaking of what had occurred since they had left the Iyr in order to bring back Jurot and assess Adam.

“What would you assess his threat?” Lykan asked, trying to do his due diligence as the Front Iyr Elder.

“Low, but there’s too many unknowns,” Argon replied.

“He certainly isn’t as powerful as any of us, but he’s too mysterious,” Tazwyn agreed.

“You haven’t gathered why he wishes to speak with Sonarot?” Lykan continued to tap the table with his finger.

“No.”

“And he somehow knew that Sonarot was pregnant…” Lykan whispered. It was impossible. Even Jurot didn’t know his mother was pregnant, and no one who knew would have let it slip when they went out. Even he had only found out when Jurot made his way out the Iyr, it was one of the few key things to note during the young Iyrman’s departure. “There is a chance he may attack Sonarot.”

Tazwyn slowly nodded her head. Even though Adam said he wouldn’t, they still didn’t know what or who he was. They would need to be careful.

“We will let him pass,” Lykan said. “We need to know what it is which would cause a feyblood to come all this way to the Iyr.” There was a chance he was a spy for the elves, but even so, Adam wouldn’t be able to gather much, save for the amount of people who were within the Iyr, which would be useful for the outsiders, and the Iyrmen.

Argon nodded his head. “Understood.”

“You’ve all done well.” He reached over and pat their heads, smiling down at them, like they were his children. “It was a good idea to send you along.”

“What of the village?” Argon asked.

“I will send ten to assist,” Lykan said.

Argon raised his brows in surprise, but nodded his head. ‘If ten are sent, then they will be fine.’ “Thank you.”

Lykan waved his hand. “I will go and speak with this half elf. I should at least meet him properly to check whether he truly poses no threat.”

“What?” Adam gasped, his eyes growing wide. “The King killed him? But! That! He!” His jaw opened, flabbergasted. “He died? He’s dead?”

“Dead,” Dargon said, nodding his head. He, along with the other Iyrmen, had eaten dinner with the half elf in the common room, continuing the story which was known as Blackwater Crisis.

“How did we go from John slaying a dragon, to the marriage between Timothy and Akrat, to them dying? And she was pregnant too? What a bastard King! I can’t believe he would kill two heroes of the Kingdom just like that!” Adam slammed his fists down on the table.

Jurot was also gritting his teeth, his brow pulsing in anger. Every time he heard the story, especially that particularly scene, it enraged him dearly. “It is a betrayal the Iyrmen have never forgotten!”

“What an idiot King! King Solomon the Wise? He’s more like a fool!”

“That is what Aldland calls him,” Jurot said. “We call him King Solomon the Wise.”

Adam looked up at Jurot, his eyes full of confusion. “You what?”

Dargon cleared his throat and glared at Jurot, who glanced aside. “We will continue the story another time.”

“Oh? Are you still not done with the tale?” Lykan asked, stepping into the common room. The smell of dinner still permeated throughout, though the food had long been taken away.

Kandal and Eshva had remained too, as this was one of their favourite tales. They wished dearly for the next part, which always enticed them.

“Even though he promised to tell me, he hasn’t completed it,” Adam said, glaring at Dargon, trying to get him into trouble for teasing him so much.

Dargon chuckled nervously. “I will keep my promise, Adam, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Iyrmen always keep their promises,” Lykan said, walking over to the table.

The Iyrmen each stood to pay their respects to the Elder, and Adam followed suit, but Lykan waved his hand. “Remain seated,” he said, staring down at Adam. “We need to talk.”

The other Iyrmen shuffled out of the town, whereas Jurot threw a look back. ‘I want to talk with the Elder too.’ He frowned, wishing he was there in Adam’s place.

Adam watched as the Iyrmen leave, before his eyes fell across the Elder, who sat opposite him, placing his flail behind him against the wall.

Perception Check

D20 + 2 = 15 (13)

The half elf leaned back slightly, glancing all around. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he was sure they weren’t alone. He could feel the burning sensation of the longsword at his side, as well as the die in his pocket. ‘How would they help me anyway?’

Lykan smiled at Adam. “I heard that you wish to speak with Sonarot.”

“That’s right,” Adam replied, nodding his head. He would need to reply as unassuming as possible.

“Why?”

“I have so much to tell her.”

“Of the threat?”

“That, and more.”

“What is your main goal in coming to the Iyr?”

“To see Sonarot.”

“What of this threat?”

“That’s a secondary goal.”

“Why is it your secondary goal?”

“I need to see Sonarot. I will inform her of the threat as part of the story, but there’s something I need to do before that.”

Lykan placed down a scroll onto the table, bound by a string. “Do you know what this is?”

“A spell scroll?” Adam replied, making an educated guess.

“It is a spell of the Second Gate, Zone of Truth. Do you know of it?”

“Yes.”

“Will you consent to the spell?”

“Sure,” Adam replied.

Lykan bowed his head and unfurled the scroll, revealing the gold speckled white ink of the spell, before pressing the sides of the scroll down on the table with each hand. He muttered something the Iyrman’s tongue, before the scroll’s text began to glow and the scroll burnt up into nothingness.

Adam felt the magic invade his body. He knew how the spell worked, so he voluntarily gave in to the magics which invaded his body. As long as it was that spell, then it was fine to fail it willingly.

Charisma Save

Voluntary failure.

“Why are you here at the Iyr?” Lykan asked.

“To see and speak with Sonarot,” Adam replied. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Why?”

“To clear my guilt.”

“What guilt?”

“I would prefer not to say.”

Lykan remained silent for a long moment. “Do you mean her any harm?”

“No.”

“Will you attack her with blade, spell, or any other harmful means?”

“No.”

“Are you here to inform the Chief of a threat to the Iyr.”

“A potential threat.” Adam nodded. “I have already spoken with Entalia about the threat, and have asked her to speak with the giants.”

Lykan blinked. He had heard that Adam had spoken with Entalia, though the Iyrmen had remained aside so were unable to hear what they were talking about, especially since it was in the dragon’s tongue. It was alarming enough to hear that a dragon had appeared so nearby, but it was especially alarming that it was her.

“You spoke with Entalia about the threat?”

“Yes.”

“Entalia, the silver dragon? Descendant of Gantalia.”

“Ye- she’s the descendant of Gantalia?” Adam asked, having only just connected the dots. He had heard the name a few times, but had been engrossed in the tale.

“Yes.”

Adam paused for a long moment. “Oh.” He squinted his eyes and slowly nodded his head. “That does make sense.”

“You told Entalia, descendant of Gantalia, about the threat to the Iyr?”

“It’s a potential threat. Whether or not it will appear near the Iyr, or even if it will come to fruition, I don’t know.”

“How do you know of this threat?”

Adam rubbed his chin. “I would prefer not to say. I will tell it to Sonarot.”

“What is the severity of the threat?”

“Severe enough that you’ll have the story buried.”

Lykan stared deep into Adam’s eyes, having not expected to hear the phrase from the half elf. “Very well.”

“Anything else?”

“No,” he said, standing up. “Welcome to the Iyr, Adam, son of Fate.” The Elder stepped out, leaving as abruptly as he left. The other four leapt out from the first floor, having been ready to cut Adam down. ‘You were wrong, Argon, Tazwyn. His threat is not at all low. How does he know so much about the Iyr?’

Adam waited patiently, and when he saw the returning forms of Jurot and the others, he sighed. ‘Phew. Looks like they aren’t going to kill me.’

“What did you talk about?” Dargon asked.

“Not much,” Adam replied, smirking up at Dargon. It seemed now he had something that Dargon wanted to know about.

Dargon squinted his eyes. ‘So is that how you want to play it?’

“Hey, Jurot, he’s an Elder, right?”

“Yes.”

“Is he a Great Elder?” Adam squinted his eyes, trying to gather how the Iyr worked.

“No, he’s a Minor Elder.”

“What does he mine?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Adam cleared his throat. “I’ve noticed there aren’t any orcs around.” He was too embarrassed about his joke to further continue asking about the Iyr.

“The orcs remain deeper in,” he said.

“Why? Is it some kind of class system? Are they not allowed to be a part of the Front Iyr?” Adam tilted his head.

“It’s not that,” Jurot said, frowning. “There is no class system within the Iyr. The people at the top always change, that is the tradition. No two families hold the same position one after another, not unless there is a special circumstance. There is too much competition. The Iyr has the Chief, Chief Iromin, and the Six Great Elders. Elder Story. Elder Peace. Elder Wrath. Elder Forest. Elder Teacher. Elder Gold. Elder Wrath is a devilkin, and Elder teacher is a tusked one.”

‘Devilkin?’ Adam nodded his head slowly. “So what is a Minor Elder.”

“Minor Elders refer to the various other Elders. There are the Village Elders and the Elders who work for the Great Elders, who may be required to leave the Iyr in order to deal with certain matters.”

Adam nodded his head slowly. “What do they do exactly?”

“Elder Story keeps our stories, including stories lost to we Iyrmen.”

“Stories which were buried?” Adam asked.

Jurot stared up at him and slowly nodded his head. “Yes. Only the other Great Elders and the Chief may request the buried stories.” He stared at Adam, squinting his eyes. ‘How do you know about that?’

“What about the other Elders?”

“Elder Peace keeps the details of alliances, and is the only one able to declare war, which hasn’t happened in generations. Elder Wrath leads the armies during any wars or skirmishes. Elder Forest takes care of the infrastructure of the Iyr. Elder Teacher is in charge of generational training, making sure traditions are kept, but our skills updated. Elder Gold manages the finances.”

“Oh,” Adam said, nodding his head as he listened to the explanations. “That makes sense.”

“The Six Great Elders and the Chief are our greatest force,” he said. “Each Great Elder, except for Elder Story, was a Gold Rank Adventurer.”

Adam blinked. “How many people are as strong as them in this land?” He had asked about Shaool previously.

Jurot let out a soft exhale, looking at Adam as though he were a little boy, a smug smirk on his face. “The previous King’s Sword might be able to match five of the Great Elders or the Chief. The current Knight of Death could too.”

“Five of the Great Elders?” Adam asked. “Right, you said Elder Story wasn’t a Gold Rank Adventurer.”

Jurot nodded his head. “Almost every Iyrman who leaves achieves Bronze Rank,” he said, subtly changing the question. “If they return at Bronze Rank, it means they need to take on responsibilities of their families, or they have decided to give their lives to the Iyr and allow someone else the glory. Many reach Steel or Silver, and some reach Mithril and Gold. We send ten Mithril Rank Iyrmen to assist the Kingdom’s army, as well as the ninety Steel Rank Iyrmen and ten Silver Rank Iyrmen for the one hundred soldiers which the Iyr sends to the Kingdom.”

“Oh, right. The Iyrmen made up a part of the Kingdom’s army.” He recalled the story. “I wonder how you guys made up after the execution of Akrat.”

Jurot wasn’t going to fall for that. "Aldland has close to forty thousand professional, full time soldiers. Ten thousand are under the command of the King. One hundred Companies. One of these Companies is completely comprised of Iyrmen, and another ten Companies are led by the ten Mithril Rank Iyrmen. The other nobles have their own armies, but only the rulers, the Kings and Queens, of the Blackwater dynasty can have units comprising of Iyrmen, as per the treaty."

“The treaty?” Adam squinted slightly, wondering how much more he could gleam from his friend.

Jurot glanced aside. “Yes. The Mithril Rank Adventurers are only supplied to the army during active war.”

“Is the Kingdom at active war now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Adam replied. “To who?”

“The Aswadasad Kingdom to the south.”

“Oh.”

“They are currently warring for a group of islands. The two Kingdoms do not send their armies to one another, they fight on the seas or on the islands.”

"Are Iyrmen any good on the sea?"

"On a ship, we can fight," Jurot replied.

"Well, anyway, how long are we staying here?” Adam wasn’t sure if he should keep teasing Jurot, who was glaring at him suspiciously.

“A few days,” Jurot assumed. “Unless it’s an emergency, we are to spend time here to relax and recuperate, and to assist the Front Iyr if there is need.”

Adam nodded his head slowly. “Actually, since we’re staying here… is there some way I can smith something here using some Iyrman metals, and maybe a wood of the Iyr?”

“You may be able to. What are you willing to trade?”

“I could make two weapons. One for the Iyr, one which I’ll keep.”

“I will go ask. What weapons are you wishing to make?”

“Whatever the Iyr needs, and an axe.”

“An axe?” Jurot looked at the longsword and warhammer at his side. ‘Do you want all three weapons?’

“Yes,” Adam said, smiling innocently. “An axe.”