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[1386] - Y06.286 - A Man of Trouble VI
🕑 Added 2025-09-30 11:00:19 +0000 UTCThe carriages rolled out of the town, leaving behind a whirlwind of rumours. The young lady who had joined them, wrapped in her loose robes, and scarf which hid away her short hair, carried a spear at her side, one that she did not know how to use, but it was a fine spear, the tip gleaming with the warmth of firesteel, and at her side she carried a firesteel dagger.
Lani sat beside her, feeling equally as alarmed, even though she was more used to this kind of life. Thankfully they weren’t sitting in the same carriage as that monster, for she would be unable to calm her heart.
“Adam, remember…”
“I know, I know, we’re heading to Tribesfolk territory, so don’t start any trouble,” Adam replied, turning his head to look out of the window. His thoughts fell to something, but his head snapped to the side as he heard the sound of Amal waking up. “Oh? Did you enjoy your little nap, Amal?”
The girl rubbed her eye with the back of her hand, while Adam brushed her face with a damp cloth, before tickling her nose. The girl glared at him for a moment, before shyly withdrawing towards Anka’s bosom, though her eyes fell back to the half elf for a moment, who smiled so warmly, causing her to hide her head again.
‘Amal, you’re still so shy, huh?’ Adam’s heart eased, for as long as Amal and Kizwolima were with them, he would allow nothing to trouble them. Everyone else would protect Taygak, and so would he, of course, but he was most responsible for the pair.
“They are a prideful people, those who live within the mountains, and continue along to the hills, following River Ghamid,” Dunes said, recalling when he was a child and had learnt of the words.
“Are we going to get into trouble?” Adam asked. “Hold on, I mean, you know, if we arrive and even if I don’t cause trouble, will they trouble us?”
“It is doubtful.”
“That’s good at least,” Adam said, leaning back as he relaxed, since he had already berated himself all morning. He would meditate every morning after he woke up, at noon, and then before he went to sleep, which consisted of calming his mind, but also berating himself constantly for being such a fool. His eyes fell to the mountain around them, the dark stone fading away into the darkness of his thoughts. ‘Seriously, why did you marry a guy like me?’
Dunes noted how seriously the half elf was taking this, so he decided to keep his mouth shut, allowing the half elf to slip into his thoughts. ‘I believe in you, Adam.’
Amal groaned, reaching out for the half elf, who instantly melted into a fool, holding the girl and allowing her to rest against his chest, since no one showed her as much affection at the half elf.
Jurot drove the carriage, allowing the half elf to think in peace. As he relaxed at the front, his eyes darted to the side, towards a wyvern, which flew all around them. As he glared at it, so did the others who drove the other carriages, and when it saw the sand giant, who was almost as large as the carriage, it turned its attention elsewhere.
“You’re a funny guy, eh, Dunes?” Adam asked as he stepped out of the carriage so the village guards could screen them.
“How do you mean?” Dunes replied, with the kind of smile that said he knew what Adam was talking about.
The large number of lionfolk glared at the group, noting the appearance of all the Iyrmen, but also the members of Black Mountain. The villages itself was set upon the mountains, though was more like a fortress than a village. Each of the lionfolk were less humanoid compared to the drakken, who were like humans with draconic features, while these lionfolk were like lions who could stand and speak, and they all wore about wore chain as though it were fashionable.
Adam spotted many who wore turbans and scarves, but from what Adam gathered, the women wore turbans, and the men wore scarves, for none of the women had hair, while the men let their hair fall down across their shoulders, their manes each large and wild.
‘I guess that makes sense…’
A particular figure, a large lionman, adorned in scale armour, wielding a large spear approached, eyeing up the group with a careful eye, his eyes falling upon the old Aswadian men, taking one into his sights, who smiled and bowed his head respectfully, while the other glared at him, but nodded his head.
‘…’
“Many Iyrmen,” the lionman accused. “Many people...”
Adam blinked, having all but forgotten that he was the one who was doing the talking. ‘Hold on? Isn’t something wrong here?
“What brings you here today?”
“Uh, hello,” Adam replied, having forgotten he was the one who was meant to do the talking. “We are here to pass through, to find a pair of our companions who had passed by some time ago.”
“There are many guests who pass by our lands, respectfully,” the Wise said, before his eyes darted to the Iyrman who stood beside, whose tattoos were a blue circle followed by blue diamonds. “A son of Rot has come.”
Jurot heard his family name and bowed his head, allowing the Wise to accept the spear from his hands, the Wise’s eyes falling upon the rest of the Iyrmen, noting quite a few tattoos, and then his eyes fell to the Gaks. For a long moment he glared towards them, but he bowed his head respectfully.
“You are welcome to stay for the night, and your safety is guaranteed between our walls,” the Wise said, motioning a paw for them to enter, for if so many Iyrmen had come, they would cause no trouble.
Well, no troublesome trouble, for already he could sense the bloodlust of those all around him, each wishing to spar with the Iyrmen. What could he do when the young bloods were all riled up? What the Wise, nor the lionfolk expected was just how strong these Iyrmen were, for as they found warriors who were roughly the Iyrmen’s peers through their age, the Iyrmen were anywhere between a touch stronger, to much stronger. Laygak was the only figure they had managed to defeat, and that was because he stepped back after a few blows, while everyone else fought until they drew blood.
“Good job, Taygak,” Adam called, holding up a hand, the teen high fiving him, the half elf smiling. The spars had changed the atmosphere, for though they had been invited with some suspicion, the spars had relaxed the lionfolk, who eagerly spoke with the Iyrmen as best as they could, with a few of the lionfolk who could speak Aldish translating and speaking on behalf of both people, as they spoke Aswadian, though also growled in their own tongue too.
“Masters?” the Wise mused, reaching up to brush his large mane. ‘What kind of monsters are the Iyr breeding this time?’ However, he considered how many figures had come to him this day, and how many of them were the grandchildren of legends from the previous era, back when he was but a cub. He had no idea he would be hearing those names after so long. His eyes then fell to the fellows of Black Mountain, but he decided to leave them be, since they wished to be left alone. Of course, there was the one from Black Lion…
‘Why’s he looking at me like that?’ Adam thought, hoping the Wise hadn’t figured out Adam was monstrously strong too. ‘Even if I should farm a little XP…’
“Ibnahm,” the Wise called, causing Ashmir’s eyes to fall upon him. Even sitting down as they were, the Wise could feel the overwhelming gap between the pair of them. Even if he was one of the strongest warriors of the village, he was nowhere near close to the Peak like Ashmir. “I heard you retired a few years ago.”
“I did,” Ashmir replied.
“In the Iyr?”
“In the Iyr.”
“How is it?”
“It is exactly as you imagine,” Ashmir replied simply.
‘If it terrifies even the likes of you…’ The Wise decided against speaking further of the Iyr, and considering the Iyrmen before him, he thought it was best to keep his heart at ease. However, the one thing he didn’t understand was…
“Me?” Adam asked, surprised the Wise would just speak to him out of the blue. “My name is Adam Fate, Executive of the United Kindom.”
“Where are you from?”
“I’m from the Iyr?” Adam replied, slightly confused.
“Your tattoo is reminiscent of the Iyr, but it is not of the Iyr.”
“Ah, well, excuse me. My home is the Iyr, but I come from a distant land, one that no longer exists.”
The Wise assumed the young half elf was from another Realm, nodding his head. ‘The Iyr does not take slaves, so…’ “Are you close with the Iyrmen?”
“Ah, something like that. I’m actually Jurot’s brother.”
“You are the Iyrman’s brother?” the Wise asked.
“That’s right.”
“If I speak with him, will he say such?”
“Yes.”
“Jurot,” the Wise called in the Aldish tongue. “Is this half elf your brother?”
“Yes,” Jurot replied.
The Wise had originally thought he would need to slaughter the half elf, or at least watch the Iyrmen slaughter him for daring to speak such words. “How did this become so?”
While the Wise heard their tale, the other lionfolk were currently being astonished by something even more ridiculous.
“She is only a year old?” one asked, eyes darting towards his companion.
“What are the Iyrmen feeding her?” the woman mused, her eyes wide.
