"Are all births so bloody?" Adam asked. His face was ghost-white, his body ice-cold. The blanket of the Rot family clung to his shoulders, trying to warm him up, but the horror that he had seen had been too much. The screaming, the wailing, and all that blood…

Paul slapped the half-elf's shoulder gently and then smiled. "First time, huh?"

"I'd never seen it before."

"Well, at least you have now."

Adam looked to the small puddle of his half digested lunch. He looked to Paul and then shook his head. He wasn't quite certain it had been worth it.

"You didn't have to come and see Jurot home. You didn't have to fight to guide him back, either."

Adam shook his head. "No, I had to."

Paul exchanged a look with Adam and understood. "Yeah," he said, and left it at that.

Sonarot was holding Lanarot in her arms, staring down at her newborn daughter with a tired gaze. For months she had been carrying the girl, and now she could finally hold her. The tiny girl had the same face as every other newborn baby in the world, with those tiny strands of hair on her forehead.

"She must have wanted to meet her elder brother," Paul said. "She's early, by quite a bit too."

"Is she going to be okay?" Adam asked, still looking at the tiny thing that was asleep.

"The shaman's have worked their magic. She'll be fine.” Paul chuckled. “She's an eager little one, no doubt she'll be trouble when she grows up."

"She'll never meet her father or brother."

"That's life. I'm sure she isn't the only one in the Iyr that'll grow up without meeting her blood brother or father, but she'll have thousands of brothers and sisters."

His words were harsh but true, and the Iyr did seem like a large family. "She has a great mother," Adam said.

"She does."

"Are you close with the Rot family?"

"Not particularly. I know Mirot, we worked together a few times."

"Adventuring?"

Paul nodded. "Sometimes we'd need someone to help us, just an extra hand or two. If we're lucky there would be an Iyrman nearby, and sometimes it would be Mirot."

The pair remained sitting beside one another as a great many blankets were brought over, as well as some poles and a large sheet of cloth. The Iyrmen went to work quickly building some tents, one for Sonarot, and then a few more in which the shaman's made their abode.

"We should get to sleep," Paul said as he placed a hand onto Adam's shoulder. "Good job with the birth. I'll come and check on the babe in the morning, and then we can chat a little about the resolution of Balrog and his associates, and things of that nature."

"Alright, I'll be seeing you." Adam nodded as Paul left. Adam stood as well, a little awkwardly as he had no idea where he was meant to be.

"Adam, come," Iromin called. He had approached once Paul had left.

Adam stepped up towards the leader, who led Adam away to one of the many cube buildings.

"We shall bring you some food in a moment," the leader said, "and we will leave you to sleep in peace. Thank you for your assistance in the birth."

Flashes of the birth filled his mind. "It was no issue," Adam said, his face wincing.

"You civilised folk lie for your pride," Iromin said. "There is no need to do so here, for you have your stories."

"It is the way that I was brought up," Adam said. "It's to be polite."

"Our definitions of politeness differ, but our definitions of helpful are the same. Good night, Adam, he who has brought Jurot home."

"Good night, Iromin, not a sir."

Iromin cracked the hint of a smile, bowed his head, and left Adam be.

Adam entered the small cube building. There were a handful of plain blankets, a bed, what looked like a desk, and a myriad of books.

Books… in the Iyr?

Adam spied the books for a moment before he shook his head. Perhaps the birthing had been too traumatic for him…

There was a knock at the door. "Adam, food," Mirot said.

Adam opened the door and welcomed her inside. She had brought with her a tray of fruits and vegetables, as well as some flat-bread that was filled with something. She placed down a small clay pot which was filled with a green cream of sorts.

"Cover the worst of your burns with this," Mirot said. "You should awaken fine in the morning."

"Ah, right, thank you."

Mirot nodded, took a moment to glance at Adam, and then left. After she had left, Adam ate the food and then looked over towards the books.

Oh, they were real.

Books, in the Iyr.

Well, they were probably for the mages. His curiosity was piqued, but he thought against it. They were not his books, and he had been graciously allowed this room to sleep in. Before his thoughts could continue, something popped up.

Exp Gained

Quest Complete: Returning Jurot to the Iyr.

EXP: 650 -> 1150

Quest Complete: Delivering a Baby

EXP: 1150 -> 1200

Otherworlder bonus!

EXP: 1200 -> 1750

Level up available!

He had returned Jurot to the Iyr days ago, but he assumed that he had only just completed the quest for Jurot because he had guided the spirit home too.

Delivering a baby didn't really gather much experience it seemed, but that was a nice little bonus. He hadn't expected such a thing to yield him experience, but after helping to deliver it and healing Sonarot, he could see why he received the experience.

He wondered what else would give him experience. He hadn't yet gained experience for helping the teens, so he assumed he only gained the experience once things had resolved.

He finished his food, applied his lotion, and then turned in for bed. He covered himself with the mass of blankets. He hoped tomorrow he'd have more than just his fighting clothes.

Level up!

XP (1750) -> (500)

Level (11) -> Level (12)

Wizard (3) -> Wizard (4)

HP (114) -> HP (122)

Mana (16) -> Mana (18)

Battle Caster acquired!

Level up available!

He had spent some time trying to figure out which class he wanted to increase, settling on Wizard, for it would be best to increase that to fifth level as quickly. The spells he would receive at fifth level, one in particular, was something he was looking forward to.

Again his night was dreamless, a void of black keeping him company in the nightly hours. He awoke in the morning, limber and loose. His body was hot, having toasted overnight in the mountains of blankets. The rays of dawn welcomed him awake as he looked out the window and then he tossed the blankets off himself to welcome the cool morning breeze across his near bare form.

Omen

11, 13

An average day, it seemed. He glanced down and checked his body, seeing to those burn marks. The lotion had worked wonders, his skin so supple and smooth as he brushed along it. No pain and no marks marred his half-fey body.

He made his bed, as one ought to do in the morning, and then wrapped a blanket around himself as though it were a cloak. He left the little house, to see how Sonarot was fairing.

He could see the tent town, not so far away from him, bustling with life. There were dozens of Iyrmen that had come by to see Sonarot and her new child, giving good wishes and blessings.

Adam walked over, though as he did so he saw Paul approaching him. The man was wearing his typical clothing, with a sword at his side. He motioned a hand to the half-elf, who followed him as the pair then walked off.

“Iromin would like to invite you to eat with him this morning,” Paul said.

Adam nodded. He had wanted to spend the morning with Sonarot, a little worried for her and Lanarot, but since they seemed to be well and there were a number of shamans about, he assumed she’d be fine.

“We won’t be eating at his home, instead we’ll be using Sonarot’s old home.”

“Old home?” Adam asked.

“She is to be moved, with Mirot and her family, to the inner layers.”

“Ah, right, Sonarot had mentioned.”

Paul nodded. “There’s only a handful of them left, and they’re direct descendants of their most famous and decorated warrior, it wouldn’t do well for their future generations if they allowed the Rot family to die out.”

“I can understand the sentiment.”

They returned to Sonarot’s old home not long after, though it seemed as though they weren’t going to eat inside, but rather outside where there were already a small group of familiar faces. Alten, Robert, Lazina and the teens, as well as Iromin and the younger Iromin.

Iromin stood as Paul and Adam approached, reaching out to shake their hands. “It’s good to see you,” he said to the pair. “We have much to discuss.”

Adam wrapped the blanket around himself a little tighter, not wanting to sit in just his fighting clothes in front of the teens, who were all already chewing on some kind of jerky. Paul sat beside Iromin and offered Adam the seat beside him, which he graciously accepted.

“I thank you,” Iromin said, “Adam of the Iron and Robert, for your role in guiding Jurot back.” Iromin bowed his head. “Your fight has been the talk of the Iyr, for it has been some time since a pair of outsiders fought to bring our people home.”

“It was an honour,” Adam said.

“A good story,” Robert said.

Iromin then started to hand out various bowls, first to his kin, then to Paul, then to Adam and Robert, before continuing along with the rest.

“It was quite the fight,” the kinman said. He glanced at Adam and then Robert. “I am Asomin.”

“My grandson,” Iromin said. “First born of my first born, and thus the heir of my colours.”

“I had hoped you would have brought Surot home, for he and I had often journeyed together when we were younger. I failed to guide him home, his spirit still lost, and was going to guide his son home, but the choice was not mine to make.”

“I’m sorry for taking the honour,” Adam said.

“There is no need to be sorry, for you have guided him home.”

“Let us speak of the matters at hand,” Iromin said, “of Paul’s wishes.”

Adam threw a look to Paul, who had just bit into a little bit of his meat. Adam then looked down to the soup that had been made. Dark and red, with some kind of meat that was probably goat, for it didn’t look like sheep or cow. He sipped on the soup and then blew out as the fire struck his lips and tongue. It was spicy, like a good curry. He couldn’t resist another sip before he was handed some flat-bread.

“I have been thinking on the matter, and Iromin has been gracious in allowing me to speak with him of it. I need to return to the guild soon in order to report a number of things, some of them to do with the children.”

“Aye, how many times do ah have ta tell ya?” Thunderhammer said, biting into her flat-bread.

“The not-children will remain here, within the Iyr, for a while longer. I would ask Adam to remain, along with Lazina, if it would be alright. I’ll post it up as a personal request and will pay you accordingly.” Paul nodded towards the pair of them. “I’m not sure how their parents would feel about me marching them through a dangerous forest infected with undead on the way back to the guild.” Paul chuckled. “They would be much safer within the Iyr. Would that be alright with you?”

“Fine with me,” Adam said.

“As long as it’s paid work,” Lazina said.

Paul nodded. “I’ll be sure to pay you. Fifty gold upfront, plus four gold a day, split between the pair of you?” Paul glanced between the half-elves. “You just need to make sure they are safe within the Iyr, that’s all. I won’t be more than a couple of weeks, though I’ll be too busy to also check up on the children if I brought them with me.”

“That works for me,” Adam said with a nod of his head.

“It is acceptable,” Lazina said.

“Wonderful, that was the most pressing issue.” Paul flashed a smile. “I will leave them in your care then.”

“I have a terrible record of looking after others,” Adam said, unable to contain the dark joke. His eyes flashed as he realised what he had said.

Paul sprayed out some of the soup he had sipped, coughing as he tried to not laugh. Iromin and Asomin stared at Adam for a moment before they nodded, understanding the joke after a moment. Adam rubbed his face, red like a tomato.

“We will guide you to the homes that you will reside in during your stay after breakfast,” Iromin said.

“I’ll need to speak with you before I leave,” Paul said, looking at Adam. “Would you mind?”

“No, that’s fine with me.”

“We’ll speak after you’ve situated yourself.”

“We will also return to you your clothing,” Iromin said, “as well as a set of clothing made by Joitin.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “That was very kind of her, I’ll be sure to thank her.”

Iromin nodded as they all continued to eat.

“Do you have any stories?” Asomin asked.

“I have some stories I’m sure,” Adam replied. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“The greatest foe you have defeated.”

“Ah, well… I suppose that would have been a herbearvore.”

“Balrog,” Paul said, staring at Adam. “Have you already forgotten?”

“Well, that didn’t really count. Everyone else was there and it was quite the team effort.”

“I believe you were the one who defeated, what, twenty something bandits all by yourself?”

“Not all by myself,” Adam said. “You were there. Plus Robert and Alten were there as well.”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t know why he won’t tell you the story.”

“There wasn’t much to say. The village was raided by Balrog, we defeated him. There were many of them, there were many of us. They had no chance, we had far more on our side.”

“Yes,” Paul said with a nod of his head, “but you almost single handedly defeated Balrog and a great many other bandits. They were worried more about you than I, which is why they shot at you.”

“I wish to hear of this story,” Asomin said. “I would like to hear it from Adam first and then Paul.”

Adam shrugged his shoulders and went on to describe the scene, though in the typical British fashion, where he would make sure to give proper due credit to the others nearby. If this was about his country or his people, he would have exaggerated their importance in the situation, but this was about himself and Paul, who had been quite lovely to him, and so he made sure to give the proper respect.

Paul then went on to describe what actually happened, though Adam seemed rather casual about the entire affair, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to eat.

“You should go see Oshgar,” Asomin said. “He had met with Balrog many years ago. The black axe had been in his family for generations, though his older brother had lost it to Balrog when he was slain.”

“Oh,” Adam said. Asomin had been so chipper about the entire matter, that he hadn’t realised that it was going to end it in such a dark way. Adam threw a look towards Paul.

“That’s something I have to speak with you all about as well,” Paul said. “The magical weapons will need to be handed over to the guild, all but the axe, and they will be identified. The axe will return to the Gar family. Once the magical weapons are identified, and they are found to be suitable, they will be offered to the three of you. One each.”

Adam raised his brows in surprise. A magical weapon? Already? He was only… oh right, he was quite high levelled. A magical weapon would have been suitable around fifth level, and he was nearly triple that.

Once they were done with breakfast, they were led by Iromin from the fifth layer and into the sixth layer, which was much smaller. Each house was also smaller than those from the fifth layer, instead of a long oblong, they were just cubes. These houses also had blankets draped over the sides, with most being patterned in some way, though there were a handful of buildings with plain blankets of various colours.

“These will be your homes,” Iromin said, motioning to the homes with the plain blankets, which were all grouped nearby to a side.

Adam spotted a blanket nearby of black with a row of blue diamonds at the top and a blue circle in the middle. It was the colours of Sonarot’s family.

‘Oh, how convenient.’

“For you, Adam,” Iromin said, interrupting Adam’s thoughts. He was holding a pair of small sacks, each tied with some string. “We have already moved all your items into the building,” he said, motioning his head to the house with the black blanket.

“Thank you.” Adam opened one of the sacks to reveal his own clothes, and then peeked in the other to see some heavy furs which were similar to those the Iyrmen wore. They were all black. He brushed a hand along the fur.

Nature

D20 + 4 = 17 (13)

Success!

The fur was black wolf fur, which were powerful beast that roamed freely in the south. They were slightly more powerful than typical wolves, though their packs were also a little smaller.

Iromin motioned with his head and Adam followed him, with Paul at his heels. Iromin led him through the side of the hill, which opened up to a stone bathhouse. He could see a great number of people all in varying states of undress, as well as a large open bath which was set into the floor, more like a pool really.

“Whoa,” Adam said.

“After a good fight, it’s a good idea to bathe,” Iromin said.

“I’ll drink to that,” Adam said.

“Drinking is also a good idea.”

“Also true.”

Iromin bowed his head and then left, as Paul began to strip down.

“Well, we may as well bathe as we talk,” the Vice-Master said.

“Sure,” Adam said, unsure.

They stripped down and then stepped into the surprisingly warm water of the bath, before sinking deep into it.

“I’ll be heading back to the guild soon to sort out a number of things,” Paul said. “One of those things is your rank.”

Adam remained silent.

“I’ve been thinking that you probably shouldn’t be iron ranked, you’re much stronger than that. You’re also much stronger than most bronze ranked adventurers, but I’m not sure if you should be higher than bronze at this time. Part of adventuring is gaining the experience of various quests before you rank up, not just raw strength.”

Adam nodded his head, agreeing with the overall sentiment.

“I’m thinking of increasing your rank to bronze for the moment, and then seeing how you progress from there. The question is whether you want people to know how strong you are, or if you want to continue along, gaining experience and gold. You seem to be from the middle of nowhere, and so don’t really have much knowledge on how the world works, and you seem to be hiding a large number of secrets. If you were any other person, I would be far more suspicious of you.” Paul was relaxing within the water, looking straight ahead. He remained silent for a long moment, but there were still words against his lips.

“How strong are you, really?” Paul asked.

“I’m as strong as you have seen,” Adam said. “I’m just lucky.” Adam was still unsure of whether he should speak of his strength still.

“Would you be alright with us increasing your rank to bronze?”

“I’m happy to remain at iron if it’s too much of a bother.”

“Bronze will be fine. The prestige it will bring to the guild will be nice, but if you insist on remaining iron then I’m fine with that.”

“What’s the real difference between iron and bronze?”

“Bronze is when you’re a codified adventurer, someone trustworthy.”

“Well,” Adam said, “it depends on whether you think I’m trustworthy then.”

Paul remained silent for a long moment. “With the matter of the bandits, would you prefer I tell them that you assisted in dealing with the bandits, or should I give you the credit you deserve?”

“Just the assist, I don’t want any undue attention right now.”

Paul nodded.

The pair bathed for some time before they changed, Adam into his old clothes, slipping on those heavy boots. He had been walking mostly in the sandal-boots of the Iyrmen since the fight, which hadn’t been too much of an issue, but he preferred keeping his feet completely protected from the elements.

“Adam,” Paul called out.

“Yes?”

“Keep up the good work,” Paul said.

“Thank you,” Adam said, smiling.