Omen: 7, 10

“Eh?” Adam said, looking at the tanner. “What do you mean it’s not done?”

“Unfortunately there was an issue with your payment,” the tanner replied, her eyes falling across his scarf, which hid his ears.

“What kind of issue?”

“The gems were not up to standard.”

Adam blinked. “What did you say?”

“The gems were not up to standard.”

“My gems?”

“Yes.”

“The gems that I brought from the Iyr and the Guild?” Adam asked, his eyes widening towards her.

The woman tilted her head slightly. “Unfortunately, they were not up to standard.”

“So you took my gold and you didn’t do anything?”

“I worked through some of the process, and I am willing to give you what I have worked on so far for twenty five gold coins.”

“Where are my gems?”

“They will be returned to you.”

Adam stared at the woman, narrowing his eyes at her. He had noticed her glance at his ears through his scarf, and he tried to understand what had happened. ‘How did she know? Was it the puthral?’ “Sure.”

The tanner brought over the nightval bear leather, placing it down before the Half Elf. Adam counted out each coin individually, and then waited. The woman brought out a scale, and placed down the gold coins onto the scale, using an item as a counterweight as she checked to see if the coins were real, before also checking the height and thickness of each coin, as well as the details within.

Adam was pretty sure she was putting on a show, but he waited in peace, not wanting this to bite him later. However, he was patient, and once he figured out what happened, his vengeance would be long and slow. ‘Just you wait.’

“So is my gold good enough, or should I ask the Guild to send someone with the correct amount of gold and let them deal with your auroch turd?”

“The gold seems to be fine.”

“Seems to be fine or is fine?” Adam asked. “I’m happy to ask the Guild to send someone here, and if need be, I’ll go speak with the Vice Master to see what he thinks about the situation.”

“It is fine,” the tanner said. “The gold is acceptable.”

Adam reached back, which caused the tanner to straighten up, her eyes flashing with alarm. Adam froze. “I’ve misplaced my book it seems.” Adam clicked his teeth with his tongue. “Then, I will have to take your word for it, though I will be mentioning this matter to the Vice Master. If you try to pull this stunt again, a simple Zone of Truth spell should do well, even if I must pay for it, though I’ll be sure to put you on the hook for it if I am found innocent.”

“Please leave my store immediately,” the tanner said, glaring at him.

Adam left, grumbling quietly as he looked down at the half formed leather top. There wasn’t much he could do about it. ‘Damn it. I should have… damn, this leather really is cold.’ Adam could already feel how cool his hands were becoming.

Jurot remained quiet as Adam explained the situation to him. The Iyrman understood what had happened, since it was such a simple matter that even he could understand. He crossed his arms. ‘I introduced my brother to the tannery since it was unmarked, but now it has affected him.’ There was a sourness within him.

“She said there was a problem with the gems?” Jurot asked to confirm.

“Yes. The same gems that I brought from the Guild and the Iyr.”

Jurot checked the gems before returning them to his brother. “There is no problem with the gems.” Even if he wasn’t as good as Jaygak, he still knew the gems were fine without the need to check them.

The gems were obsidian from the Adventurer’s Guild.

Jurot tapped his bicep with a finger once, only thinking for that single moment. “Okay.” He stood, and nodded to Adam. “Come.”

“Where?”

“We will find another to work your leather.”

“Sure,” Adam said, getting up to follow Jurot.

Jurot led Adam to another tanner, one who worked nearby to the previous tanner, but it was further back, more awkward to approach. An older woman was currently working some leather in a solution which had, no doubt, been passed down from her ancestors.

“An Iyrman,” the older woman said, rinsing off her hands. She was short and thin, and her eyes snapped to Adam, noting his armour, a puthral breastplate. “What can I help you with?” Her voice was low, and accusatory.

“We wish for the leather to be worked into a tunic for my brother,” Jurot said.

“Your brother? No wonder he’s wearing puthral.”

“How much?”

“Since you’ve brought the leather, twenty gold,” the old woman said, bringing her string over to measure the Half Elf.

“I’ll pay you thirty,” Adam said. “I’d like for you to confirm the gold too.”

The woman looked at the coins, counting each one, before she nodded. “You can go. It’ll be done in a few days, no more than five days.”

“You’re not going to mess around with me, are you?” Adam asked.

The tanner looked to Jurot.

“She will not,” Jurot said, before turning and leaving.

Adam followed Jurot. “How do you know?”

“I know.”

“Yes, but how?”

“I know because I know,” Jurot said. He was certain he wasn’t allowed to reveal the Iyrmarks to Adam, passing by the entrance of the store, where there was a small mark near the bottom within wood.

Adam sighed. He supposed it was wrong of him to hide his ears from the others, otherwise how could they…

‘Wait, what?’ Adam thought. ‘Why was it wrong of me to hide my ears? Just because I’m a Half Elf I get treated like dirt? I’m not even related to those maniacs!’

Adam huffed quietly. “Just you wait until I find out who did this.”

“It was most likely the merchant,” Jurot said, glancing at Adam, before they came across the tannery which had refused to work Adam’s leather. He almost swung his axe towards it, but it was far too bright to be leaving marks, so he left it be.

“Why’d you say that?”

“It makes sense.”

Adam thought about it. “It was either the merchant or Sir Harvey, so I can probably blame both of them anyway…”

Jurot nodded. “It is a shame they have chosen to trouble you.”

“A shame, huh?” Adam sighed. “Well, it is what it is.”

When it was evening, Adam lay in bed, thinking about his choice to be a Half Elf. ‘At least I can see in the dark…’

His stomach churned as he thought about what it would mean for Lanarot and his eventual children to be associated with him. ‘Should I even have kids if others will treat them like dirt… or worse.’ He could feel the heat of anger building within him, but it quickly dissipated. ‘No, it doesn’t matter. I won’t have kids for a while anyway, so I’ll just take it one step at a time.’

Jurot, Kitool, and Jaygak had met in the evening.

“Are you surprised?” Jaygak asked.

Jurot and Kitool remained quiet. They were Iyrmen, so there was a great amount of awe, fear, and respect they had garnered wherever they went, and it was rare for someone to be hostile against them for being an Iyrman.

Jaygak, on the other hand, was a Devilkin. If her forehead wasn’t tattooed, then she’d be in trouble wherever she went. There were many Devilkin, and Orcs, who found themselves in a river.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jaygak said. “Adam’s Adam. He’ll be fine.”

“They had refused his gems. I brought him to the tannery and they refused his gems.”

“Then…” Jaygak raised her brows at Jurot. “Do it.”

“It is a small matter,” Kitool said.

“A small matter, sure, but Adam is still a Nephew of the Rot family. Even after she had heard that Adam brought the gems from the Iyr and the Guild, didn’t she still refuse?”

“If we escalate the situation, then there could be greater consequences.” Kitool tried to be the voice of reason.

Jurot crossed his arms, thinking for a moment. It wasn’t a big deal, really. They should have expected as much since Adam was a Half Elf, and they were in South Aldland. However, Adam had been excited about the nightval bear shirt, and it was going to cool him down from the warming sun of noonval.

“I will do it,” Jurot said.

Jaygak and Kitool watched him leave.

Kitool looked to Jaygak, narrowing her eyes at the Devilkin.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jaygak said.

“I have some understanding.”

“Some,” Jaygak said. “I might get it worse than Adam sometimes, but I have something he doesn’t.” Jaygak pointed to her tattoo. “So even I don’t understand it all, but at least I can say I know it best.”

Kitool bowed her head.

Jurot approached the tannery in the darkness, axe in hand. If he had been a Noble, then the tanner wouldn’t get to live to see the dawn, but he was an Iyrman. He cut into the wall above the door, cutting just a small mark, before he cut again, forming an X within the wall.

Any Iyrman who would walk past this tannery would know not to deal with it from this day forward.

Jurot put away his axe and made his way to one of the Iyr’s havens he knew, adding the business to a list of business which would not take the Iyr’s coins, and the reason why. Perhaps the reason wasn’t good enough, but he was an Iyrman, and this was his right.