The entire courtyard was in a rush, with Iyrmen swiftly clearing the area. The Iyrmen families which had been around eating pizza were quickly putting out the oven and moving the children away, returning back to where they had come from.

“What’s going on?” Adam threw a look to Sonarot, who was being helped by Zijin, with two Iyrmen standing near her to keep people away.

Turot and Jurot stared at Sonarot, confused. They were unsure as to what was happening, as no one had bothered to tell them anything. Jurot had been kept in the dark that Sonarot was pregnant, and Turot knew that he needed to not bother his aunt so much, but seeing her in trouble worried him.

Kitool and Jaygak quickly confronted the pair, trying to lead the pair away.

“We should leave them in peace,” Kitool said.

“Come on, Turot, I’ll carry you around the Iyr on my shoulders.” Jaygak lifted the young boy up onto her shoulders with ease.

Turot didn’t want to leave, but he understood that he shouldn’t be here considering how the other Iyrmen were acting.

“What’s happening?” Jurot asked, who trusted Kitool, but it wasn’t enough for him to leave his mother.

“Great fortune.” Kitool flashed a rare smile, disarming Jurot.

Amokan placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “We should leave her in peace, son of Fate.”

“I’m staying,” Adam said, feeling the strong Iyrman’s hand on his shoulder. “Jurot’s staying too.”

“It is not your place to stay here.”

“It’s not your place to tell me where to go.”

“This is the Iyr,” Amokan said, firmly.

“If Sonarot wants me to leave, I’ll leave, but you and no other Iyrman is going to tell me to leave her.”

Amokan stared at Adam for a long moment, and Timojin stepped beside him. The pair of them stared down Adam, and the tension in the air grew. The pair of Iyrmen had noted that Jurot was stronger than them now, and Adam was probably equally as strong as their older friend.

Adam stared at the pair, but without his armour and weapons in hand, it would be difficult to deal with them. Then again, he wasn’t stupid enough to start a bother within the Iyr. He was a stranger, and Sonarot was currently giving birth, something quite important within the Iyr.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Adam said, sighing. “It’ll only stress her out.”

“Step back, son of Fate,” Timojin said. “Your pizza was good, but it isn’t your place to force yourself into this.”

“I’m not stupid enough to start a fight in the Iyr, even if I could beat the pair of you,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes. “Though, perhaps not without my armour and weapons.” Adam chuckled lightly. “Jurot,” Adam said, noting how Jurot was staring at him too. “You should stay with your mother. Hold her hand until it’s over.”

Jurot squinted his eyes, unsure as to why Adam was trying to command him to do things, but nodded his head anyway.

The Shamans of the Iyr were upon the scene, dressed in their heavy cloaks. Dark green, with a golden hem, like a uniform. Each wielded various weapons made of wood, though there were two wielded metal weapons at their side, and they also wore two amulets with Sozain’s symbol.

They had been preparing for a while for this eventuality, so it didn’t take long to arrive on the scene, having been called by one of the Iyrmen.

They forced most of the Iyrmen away, with Turot staring at them for a short while before Jaygak took him away, and Adam returned to the Rot house, with Amokan, Kitool, and Timojin.

“Who would you like for us to call?” a Shaman asked her.

She saw Jurot trying to force his way forward, puffing out his cheeks as a Shaman kept him back. She reached out a hand for Jurot, who took it, and he sat beside her. She didn’t want him to see her like this, but since he had come to her, she couldn’t push him away.

“You can inform the rest of the family, but they shouldn’t come.” She breathed deeply to try and calm herself. She smiled slightly, thinking about how annoyed her father in law would be.

Soon, word was sent to the Rot estate deeper within the Iyr, and a Shaman stepped into the Rot family house. “Sonarot has called for you,” the Shaman said, looking at the half elf who was embracing an axe on his lap as though it were a child. He vaguely noted the other three Iyrmen, who were keeping an eye on the stranger.,

Adam smiled, quickly leaping onto his feet and swiftly stepped out. The Shaman stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “You should leave the axe behind.” The Shaman wondered why Sonarot would call for the stranger, but it was not his place to ask.

Adam glanced down towards the axe. ‘Oh, right.’ It was a terrible idea to rush towards a pregnant woman with an axe. He placed the axe on the table and rushed out to Sonarot’s side, who reached out to hold his hand.

“I would have liked for her to have been born on the second,” Sonarot admitted, squeezing the young men’s hands.

“The second?” Adam asked, squeezing her hand gently. “Why?”

“The second day of the second month,” Jurot said. “It is a lucky day.”

“It doesn’t matter what day she’s born,” Adam said, “she’ll be lucky either way.”

Sonarot smiled.

Adam had no idea if the birth was going well as the minutes passed by. The various Iyrmen around spoke in their own tongue, grunting and growling a few words here and there.

Water was brought, as well as various blankets and towels, and the Shamans remained on high alert.

Perception Check

D20 + 2 = 10 (8)

Adam was too focused on Sonarot and holding her hand and comforting her, so he didn’t notice the various shadows which were atop the roofs, and all about them, keeping an eye on anything, just in case.

The hours continued to pass, with Sonarot shuddering from the contractions. Adam felt her squeeze his hand whenever they occurred, and though it hurt his hands, he understood that it was nothing compared to what Sonarot was going through. They brought her something to bite into, a long cloth which had been wrapped around a small wooden block.

‘I should have kept my Omen for this,’ Adam thought, growing worried as time passed. ‘Damn it.’

It was almost dawn by the time Lanarot entered the world, gasping for air as the Shamans rubbed her with the towel. They made sure to rub along her stomach and chest to make sure she was able to breathe properly.

The pair of young men had bags under their eyes, and their hands were red and sore. It was nothing compared to the exhaustion Sonarot was going through.

Jurot gathered he’d be unable to wield his axe for the day. He had never expected his mother to be pregnant, or that this was the way that women gave birth. It was his first birthing scene, something which he didn’t care for before, and would hope to never see again.

The different families looked out to the courtyard to see Sonarot holding the tiny little form which was her daughter, the latest addition to the Iyr.

“Come say hello to little Lanarot,” Sonarot said to the boys, holding her baby close to her chest. Sonarot held the source of what little strength she had within her arms.

Jurot stared at the tiny little baby, blinking down at her for a long moment. “Hello.” He stared at the tiny baby. He had seen a few little babies, but never one this small and weak.

Adam stared at the pair of them, stepping back to see both Jurot and Lanarot together. His heart filled with great pride, but it was soon overcome by a greater sense of relief. “Isn’t she cute?” Adam declared, staring down at the ugly little babe. She looked about the same as she had in his last life.

He smiled.

“No,” Jurot replied, simply.

Adam blinked, staring at Jurot, who only spoke the truth. ‘What the hell are you saying in front of your mother, you idiot?’

Sonarot just smiled, leaning down to kiss her daughter’s head, brushing along her cheek. She whispered the girl’s name repeatedly, full of joy.

“Jurot,” Adam said, noting how the families were beginning to move, “go get the axe!”

“The axe?” Jurot replied.

“The axe that we made! It’s on the table in your house! Go!” Adam urged the Iyrman.

Jurot leapt up onto his feet, not sure why Adam was commanding him in the Iyr, but he dashed to his house to grab the axe.

Adam stood up, seeing the various families approaching with all manner of items. He stood in front of Lanarot, blocking their path towards her, his hands out wide on either side of him.

“What are you doing?” Zijin asked, curiously. He stared at the position Adam had taken.

“The first gift should be from her brother!” Adam declared, loudly.

Jurot rushed back out with the axe, pushing past the others before he held out the axe to Adam. He had figured out that Adam wanted to be the first person to give the gift, though his mind was racing.

‘He knew?’ Jurot thought.

“Why are you giving it to me?” Adam asked, furrowing his brows.

“It’s your axe,” Jurot replied, simply.

“It’s our axe.”

“No, it’s an axe you made.”

“No, it’s an axe we made. You made the handle, didn’t you?”

“You made the axe.”

“I’m bad at handles, but good at other things,” Adam argued. “Without you, I wouldn’t have made the axe.”

“This was a gift for my sister?” Jurot asked, squinting at Adam suspiciously. He wanted to confirm it with his own ears.

“Yes.”

Jurot furrowed his brows. "Did you know?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Fate."

"Are you sure you want to gift it?" Jurot asked. "It is worth more than a thousand gold.”

The other Iyrmen watched their routine, wondering what they were doing.

"The gift isn't worthy enough for dear little Lanarot!” Adam declared, wanting to make sure everyone knew his expectations for the baby. “It'll be useful to her for some time, though. I’ll definitely make something worthy of her when I’m good enough."

Sonarot sighed, seeing the way the pair were arguing and making the others wait, embarrassed that they would act so immature. “Come, give it!” Sonarot demanded, holding out her hand. ‘What am I going to do with these two?’

Jurot handed it over to his mother, handle side out. She grabbed the handle and placed one of Lanarot’s hands on the handle, allowing the babe to accept it, before holding the axe back up to her son. He took it from his mother, understanding that it was dangerous to keep near a baby.

“Her first gift is such a treasure. Wouldn’t it be best if there was a story with the axe?” Sonarot asked, staring up at her son. “Adam created most of the blade and enchanted it, and you created the handle. Wouldn’t it be nice if you created a story with it too?” She was more worried that the axe wouldn’t be used for some time, and a young girl having a magical axe was a little awkward.

“What do you think?” Adam asked, nodding his head slowly. ‘Looks like all of Jurot’s brains remained with his mother.’

Jurot stared at the axe for a long moment. A story? "I can do that." He could already feel the excitement.

Adam looked at the tiny girl within Sonarot’s arms, squatting down beside her. “Is she okay? Is she healthy?”

"She is fine,” a Shaman said, as confused as every other Iyrman here.

“She will become a strong warrior like her older brothers." Sonarot kissed the girl’s head again.

"Turot is not yet strong,” Jurot replied.

“I wasn’t talking about Turot,” Sonarot said. She reached up for Adam’s hand, who felt the weak hand of a mother who had just given birth. "I hope that you will guide her as well."

Adam glanced aside, feeling his cheeks flush with deep heat, completely red. “Yeah…”

Jurot looked to Adam, his eyes wide. 'Is he trying to replace me?'

"If there's anything you need for your health or Lanarot's, please let us know, “Adam urged. “We'll bring you whatever you need."

"What if I need the heart of three manticores? Or the heart of a hydra?" Sonarot joked.

"We'll get them," Adam confirmed. He turned to Jurot. "Right?"

"Yes, we will!” Jurot agreed. “Or we will die trying."

"No, we won't die trying,” Adam snapped at him. ‘This idiot! What the hell is he saying?’ “If we can't get them, we'll try again another time. Lanarot needs her older brother, what are you saying? Are you so eager to abandon your little sister?”

Jurot remained silent, narrowing his eyes at Adam.

The other Iyrmen soon showered the girl and Sonarot with all manner of gifts, from tiny cups and plates, to bundles of cloths, to toys which she would need in the future.

Adam and Jurot watched from afar, not noticing the Chief who was on the rood above them, checking in on the scene.

“You knew my mother was going to have a child,” Jurot said. “You also knew Lanarot’s name.”

“I did,” Adam said.

“Will you tell me how?”

“One day.”

Jurot frowned.

“I’m sure you don’t trust me, but I already told Sonarot and the Chief. They haven’t killed me yet, so I assume they’re fine with me.” Adam stared out to Sonarot and Lanarot. “You should stand beside them.”

“Shouldn’t you stand beside us too? Mother has accepted you as Lanarot’s brother.”

“There are some things which are worth more than gold,” Adam said. “I was desperate to head to the Iyr with you, and only you. Now that I’ve completed my most important tasks, I want to partake in the fruits of my labour. I want to see you all, together.”

Jurot was still extremely suspicious of Adam, but his mother had never done him wrong. Since she seemed to trust the half elf, he would need to be careful with his suspicions. He went to his mother, sitting beside her. He stared at the tiny form of Lanarot, wondering if she’d be alright in the Iyr. All the other babies he had seen were much bigger than her. He didn’t realise most babies were this small when they were born, and that he had seen every baby after a week or two.

Adam rested up against the wall, seeing the Iyrmen admire the tiny little girl, glad to hear of the expansion of the Rot family. When Turot had arrived, bringing Gorot with him, he stared down at Lanarot, unsure of who she was, but his face turned into a bright smile when he was told who she was.

Quest Complete: The Siblings Meet

XP Gained: +200

XP: 1700 -> 1900

Adam smiled, wondering when he’d be able to see Mirot and Nirot with them all too.

‘She said that Surot might be missing instead of dead,’ Adam thought.

However, exhaustion filled him, and he passed out against the wall opposite the Iyrmen.

The Chief stared down at the half elf, still wondering if he should kill the stranger. He knew far too much. ‘Will I really disregard the rules of the Iyr at this age?’ Iromin shook his head.