Omen: 13, 17

Adam sniffled in the morning. He had forgotten one of the rules of the Iyr. When one returned to the Front Iyr, they were to spend a week assisting the Iyrmen. Of course, Adam’s companions didn’t need to help quite as much, but as a Nephew of the Rot family, he had to work hard.

Due to the heat of the Iyr, and how it bore down onto him, Adam wore a vest, a pair of shorts, and a short cloak which was extremely thin.

Strom sat atop a building, singing and drinking, ambiance for the busy Iyrmen, some of whom were busy with building the rest of the Iyr.

“It isn’t usually like this,” Adam said to Lady Shamia. “The Front Iyr’s changed a lot since we last left.”

“It is different than I expected,” she admitted. “The walls of the Iyr are one thing, but the way the Iyrmen are all moving, and how quickly they’re expanding, it’s something which I can only dream of achieving.”

“Yeah, they’re like that, the Iyrmen.”

Lady Shamia made a note of all the older Iyrmen, who were lazing around, relaxing under the sun and casually chatting with one another.

Adam followed her eyes, and furrowed his brows. ‘Why are there so many old Iyrmen about?’

Adam helped around the Front Iyr, moving lumber from one place to the next, and generally assisting with manual labour. He was glad he invented the rickshaw, otherwise it would have been far more difficult.

‘Where’s Sky, the lazy git,’ Adam thought. It would have been so much easier with his awakened wolf helping.

“Jurot, do you know what’s going on?” Adam asked. As the day had passed, he realised there was a lack of younger children. It wasn’t that there was less, it was that there had been so many older Iyrmen who had arrived that the Front Iyr felt so different.

“I do not,” the Iyrman admitted. “I have not heard of something like this happening in the Iyr.” Jurot only knew that it was a dangerous time, considering the older generation had stepped into the Front Iyr. “Even if the King of Aldland came with tens of thousands of soldier, the Iyr would not react this way.”

“Does anyone know?”

“If we should know, then we should know,” Jurot replied, dismissing the thought. “Elder Forest and Elder Lykan have stated what must be done, so we must complete our tasks.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you curious?” Adam whispered.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I am too weak to be curious,” Jurot replied. “Tigers are killed by curiosity.”

‘That’s now how the saying goes…’ However, Adam understood what Jurot was getting at. He decided to let his curiosity go too.

He spent the week assisting the Iyr in the same way, chopping down trees, clearing the land, helping build the various buildings.

“May I admire your puthral?” Morkarai asked one afternoon.

Adam looked to Jurot, who nodded. “Sure.”

Morkarai stared at the puthral for a long while, feeling its hardness under his fingers. ‘I wonder what her face will look like when I reveal to her I was able to study puthral.’

Elder Lykan was extremely busy throughout the week, especially since he had received word back from the Druids. ‘How could you run away from home when the Iyr is preparing for its darkest hour?’ He sighed, wondering how they could deal with the matter. The Druids hadn’t asked to return their young Star, and so the Iyr would need to keep an eye on her. They would need to deal with her before the Twilight Month, otherwise they would need to pin so many Shamans to her.

The Elder eventually made his way to Strom, who was laying down atop a building, lazing under the sun. The old man opened an eye to see the approaching Elder.

“News?”

“He is still within Aswadia,” Lykan said. “At his pace, he should arrive at the Iyr around the Month of Storms.”

“No doubt he’ll wait outside the Iyr if it’s during that month,” Strom said. “Not that I’ll be so patient.”

Elder Lykan excused himself, wondering what Strom was thinking. ‘No. I should be glad he has not caused any trouble.’

As the week progressed, the Front Iyr had expanded to house at least six thousand Iyrmen, and it didn’t appear to be slowing down.

Adam thought about asking Elder Lykan about what was going on, but he recalled his conversation with Jurot. ‘I’m no tiger.’

Tariel held her book at all times, keeping the page on the solitary word she had written, tapping it constantly to exclaim in shock and awe.

“Why do they call you Star Tariel?” Adam asked over lunch.

Star is a term used to describe my position.

“What is your position?”

Daughter of the Archdruid.

“Archdruid?”

Yes.

Adam looked to Jurot.

Jurot wasn’t sure he was allowed to say, but considering Tariel had stated it, it shouldn’t be a huge deal. “The Archdruid is the ruler of all Druids within a set of Tribesfolk. She is the Moon, her children are Stars, and the Elders are Suns.”

“Ah,” Adam said. “So Tariel’s some kind of Princess?”

“Yes,” Jurot said.

Adam nodded his head slowly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Star Tariel. I can’t believe you bullied me by not telling me you were a Princess.”

Tariel furiously wrote in her book, and Adam felt a little bad that he made the joke.

Hehe.

Adam felt less bad after reading her giggle. “Toosh.”

Toosh?

“Nothing.” Adam smiled.

Nobby had also assisted the Iyr during the week, allowing the Iyrmen to admire him as he carried all kinds of heavy objects, from barrels of food, to lumber, to stone.

Lucy was admiring all the Iyrmen during the week too, though she had kept herself as calm as she could manage. She understood that something was wrong in the Iyr, so she didn’t want to aggravate the situation, not since they knew she was the Demon Lord.

‘I’m definitely never going to fight the Iyr,’ she thought.

Adam brought some ore for Morkarai, who was smithing near his estate. Adam wondered if he should peek in, but realising it would have been rude, and potentially deadly. Since he was so close to seeing Lanarot, he had begun to value his life.

Fred also worked hard during the week, trying to keep his thought occupied. He had felt the awkward air in the Iyr, and it had seeped into his bones. Seeing the Iyr like this filled him with vigour. All the Iyrmen moving together with a sense of purpose, building the Front Iyr up from almost nothing to this greatness.

Adam stared at Fred, who winced every so often, but the look in his eyes, and the small smile on his face betrayed just how much he was enjoying himself.

“Adam,” Lykan called a few days before they were to leave to the Main Iyr. “Would you be willing to smith some crimson steel?”

“I am feeling extremely lucky today,” Adam stated. “Sure.” Adam hoisted himself up. “One second.”

“Thank you.” Lykan brought Adam to a smithy, allowing him to work some crimsonsteel into an axe.

Smithing Check (Strength)

D20 + 6 = 22 (16)

Smithing Check (Constitution)

D20 + 5 = 6 (1)

Exhaustion: 0 -> 1

“What’s wrong?” Jaygak asked, watching as Adam dropped down beside them during dinner.

“Tired,” Adam replied, simply, trying to peel off his nightval bear leather, which had kept him cool all day.

“I heard you were smithing crimsonsteel,” Jaygak whispered.

“Yeah, I made a pretty decent axehead,” Adam said.

“Not a sword?”

Adam smiled. “No. Not a sword.”

Omen: 4, 12

Smithing Check (Strength)

D20 + 6 = 10 (4)

Omen: 4, 12 -> 4

12 + 6 = 18

Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.

Their sparkling silver scales glittered under the noonval sun, which unfortunately revealed them to the crows above. As the crows dove down towards the glittering scales, the small silver scaled creature spun, crying out a screech, before reaching up with her talons to attack the crows.

The crows pecked at her scales, tearing two off, before a talon completely rent a crow in half, all the while the two other silvery creatures screeched in terror, before assisting their oldest sibling, fending off the crows.

The winged lizard withdrew, hiding under a rock, blood seeping out of her wounds. Her two younger siblings licked at her wounds, before covering her, protecting her the same way she had done for them this entire time.

Thus Fate was forever changed.

Smithing Check (Constitution)

D20 + 5 = 9 (4)

Exhaustion: 0 -> 1

Adam sighed, feeling the ache of the exhaustion fill him. He was glad he was wearing his nightval bear leather, otherwise he would have been half dead from the heat of the forge and the noonval sun.

‘I’m so unlucky making these axeheads…’

Omen: 4, 15

Smithing Check (Strength)

D20 + 6 = 21 (15)

Smithing Check (Constitution)

D20 + 6 = 24 (18)

Adam stared down at the crimsonsteel sword. ‘I should have been making swords this entire time.’ He sighed. ‘Well, this is the last one.’

Tomorrow, he’d be home.