96. Leaving Red Oak
96. Leaving Red Oak
Omen: 14, 17
Currency: 65GP -> 35GP
Adam placed down three sets of coins, one for each Porter. The gold coins were stacked ten high. “Here. You guys can work as you please since we’ll be off. Take good care of yourselves, because when we return we’ll be working you hard!” Adam smiled.
“You’ve already given us so much,” Remy said, unsure if he should accept so much coin.
Jeremy elbowed him and swiped the coins. “You can always call on us. Ain’t that right, Nobby?”
Nobby nodded his head, taking the coins carefully, one by one, and adding them to his pouch, the coins clinking each time they did.
Adam smiled. “Good. As long as you remember how well I’ve treated you, it’s more than worth the price.”
Remy accepted the coins, nodding his head to the Half Elf. He had never have expected that he’d be able to earn so much coin this year, and he could easily take off a couple of weeks to spend with his family.
The trio of Porters left, leaving Fate’s Golden alone in the large room. It was a room used by the Adventurer’s Guild to receive guests, and considering there was a Sir arriving soon, they had stocked it well with liquor, tea, and snacks.
Dunes sat, arms crossed, deep in thought. ‘Did he really make such potions? From what I saw, there were multiple of those Enhanced Healing Potions he had made, each slightly stronger than a typical potion. There’s no way he could have made it in such little time…’
“You’re thinking too much,” Jaygak said from beside him, throwing a quick look to Adam.
Adam just smiled, noting the look, before nodding to Dunes. “Jaygak’s right. Sometimes, it’s best not to over think.” He winked at the War Priest.
The door swung open to reveal a man in breastplate, stamped with the sigil of the Redoaks, that of an oak tree, and at his side was a blade, the handle made of red wood, and was most definitely magical.
“Sir Merrick Crimsonbark, Seven Branch of the Oakguard!” the Knight declared loudly, his eyes glancing across the group. He removed his helmet to reveal his handsome face, reddish brown hair, and green eyes, holding his helmet at his side.
Dunes stood, nodding his head. Adam was about to stand, but noted the Iyrmen remained seated, and chose to do so.
Sir Merrick nodded back to the War Priest, but glanced around to the rest. His eyes caught the Half Elf for a moment, but they did not linger for long. “Are you all ready?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Adam said.
Sir Merrick squinted towards Adam, but he nodded. “Then let us step outside.” The Oakguard turned on his heel and marched out.
Adam glanced to his party, shrugging his shoulders, before following the Knight, where he saw two Iyrmen, one adorned in heavy plate mail, and another who wore the typical assortment of furs and cloth of the Iyrmen whenever they were out of the Iyr.
The Priest, a female Iyrman, noted Adam’s appearance right away. She was in her late thirties or early forties, and had dark hair and dark eyes of the Iyrmen. At her side was a mace, the head of which was made out of some kind of dark gem.
The other Iyrman also wielded a mace too, though it was extremely large, more like a maul than a mace.
“You must be the one my Paul has told me about,” the female Iyrman said, walking up to him.
“What did he say?” Adam asked, smiling at her.
“A great number of things, but you would not appreciate that I said such things with so many ears around.” She pat his arm with a strong hand.
“Ah, yeah,” Adam said, noting that the pair held the same pattern on their foreheads. In the centre were a pair of black arrowheads pointing outwards, followed by purple arrowheads pointed downwards.
“Aizaban,” the woman said, clasping his forearm.
“Lanban,” the man said, doing the same. “Cousin to Aizaban.”
Adam nodded his head, allowing the rest of Fate’s Golden to introduce themselves.
“I see you are both very powerful,” Adam said. “I hope the measly reward offered is worth it.”
Sir Merrick raised his brow. “Sir Harvey pays more than well, young man. I am certain the Iyrmen will be paid fairly.”
“Funny, I thought I was paying them,” Adam said, chuckling.
Sir Merrick shook his head gently, not used to the whims of the Elves.
“It is more than worth it,” Aizaban assured.
Lanban nodded his head.
“I hadn’t believe Vice Master Paul when he mentioned that there would be five Iyrmen joining us, nor that there would be three Silver Rank Adventurers to join us on our little expedition!” a man declared, laughing as he approached. He was a man of average height, average build, and average in every sense of the word. No one would have thought twice about looking at him, that was how average this man was. “Still, I have a bag of holding which will be full of herbs before we return!”
“They’re here to prioritise something else,” Adam said. “Though I’m sure they should be able to help.”
“I have never heard of such a thing before. A young Copper Rank Adventurer commanded three Silver Rank Adventurers, and two Iyrmen at that!” The man laughed.
‘What?’ Sir Merrick’s eyes fell onto Adam. He had puthral and a blade made of materials only available to Iyrmen. He had noted it before, but hadn’t realised that he held such a deep connection to the Iyr to command two Silver Rank Iyrmen. ‘He’s only Copper Rank?’
“I’m sure you have your own reasons,” the man said. “Sir Harvey, High Alchemist of Red Oak.” He greeted each member individually. “The road will be full of treachery, so we should be on our guard. We shall leave on the hour, so prepare yourselves.”
Adam undid his helmet, glancing towards both Sir Merrick and Sir Harvey, wondering if they knew.
“You’re a Half Elf?” Dunes gasped, staring at him in shock.
Adam threw a look to him. “What do you mean? You know I’m a Half Elf.”
“I thought you meant it figuratively,” he said.
“Dunes, I showed you my ears.”
Dunes smiled. “Yes,” he said. “You did.”
Adam narrowed his eyes at Dunes and quickly placed his helmet back on. “Don’t say it like that, Dunes. Why did you have to make it weird?”
Dunes just chuckled.
“We know of your being,” Sir Harvey said. “We were informed beforehand.”
“Good,” Adam said. “Makes it less awkward.” With that, he took the crew to the bakery, which he hadn’t visited in some time.
“They told me you had died,” Pam said, staring at Adam.
“What?” Adam blinked. He looked to Dunes. “Was it you?”
Dunes threw a look to each Iyrman. “Of course it was me,” he said. “Iyrmen don’t lie.”
“He said you were as good as dead with how hard you were working,” Pam said.
“That’s a lot more charming than saying I was dead,” Adam grumbled. “Anyway, we’re going to be leaving for a while. We’ve got a Ques-“
“Adam,” Dunes said, quickly patting his back. “Shall we order?”
Adam raised his brow back to Dunes, who was staring into his eyes like a mentor. “I wasn’t going to tell her.”
“Even telling her the smallest of details would be bad,” Dunes said. “Sorry, Pam, but we can’t really tell you.”
“What a shame,” she said, already packing up some jam buns. “Then does that mean you’ll be ordering extra?”
Adam narrowed his eyes.
Currency: 35GP -> 33GP
“It’s always a pleasure to take your coin!” Pam said, quickly snatching the pair and packing up extra jam buns and bread.
Adam ate the jam bun outside with the rest of Fate’s Golden, sans Jurot, who was inside talking with Pam. The four glanced between one another, before smiling, filling their stomachs with jam buns, and their hearts with the romance of youth.
Once they had given Jurot his time with Pam, they returned to the group, where they headed out. They did not follow the road west, as Adam usually had done, but they headed north, following the hills, through the thick forest.
“Isn’t this the deadly part of the forest?” Adam asked, noting the fence they were approaching.
“Yes,” Sir Merrick said.
Adam glanced to Aizaban, who was beside her husband. “Are we going to be okay?”
Paul threw a look to the two Iyrmen, the Knight, and then to Adam. “We should be.”
“If you say so…” Adam wasn’t sure how much he should be worrying. ‘Well, there are three Silver Rank Adventurers, and Sir Merrick might be around their level too…’
The forest was noisy, full of life. Adam noted the various critters all about, which filled him with some comfort, as it meant that the forest would be safe.
“You have a nice sword,” Adam said, glancing at the blade at Sir Merrick’s side.
“Red Oak,” Jurot said, nodding his head. “It’s very beautiful.”
Adam threw a look to Jurot. ‘Oh right, he’s a wood geek.’ “Is it easy to enchant?”
“I hear it’s quite difficult,” Sir Merrick said. “A blade like this is given to all Oakguard.”
“What is the Oakguard exactly?” Adam asked.
Sir Merrick threw the Half Elf a look. “Excuse me?”
“You know. Is it the Knights of Red Oak, for the town, or are you the Knights of the Lord?”
“The Oakguard are the elite Knights of Countess Redoak,” Sir Merrick replied. “Those who are worthy are knighted by the Countess, who is the only one with the authority to appoint Oakguard.”
“It’s not those who are worthy, but those who are worthy and are of noble blood, even if they are weaker than the others who wish to be knighted,” Aizaban said.
“I am sure there are many factors which the Countess takes into consideration,” Sir Merrick said. “I wouldn’t dare to suggest I know of her wishes.”
“Can I hold your sword, please?” Adam asked, staring at the sword.
“If you allow me hold yours,” Sir Merrick replied, sure the boy wouldn’t take the deal. His blade held as many secrets as his own, which would be important to keep as an Adventurer.
“Sure,” Adam replied.
“Excuse me?” Sir Merrick said.
Adam undid his sword belt and offered it to Sir Merrick, who stared at it. Seeing as that he had offered the Half Elf the deal, he had to take it, and so he undid his sword belt and handed it over to Adam.
‘Heavy,’ Adam thought, feeling the weight of the sword belt. He unsheathed the sword, revealing the Red Oak blade. Jurot leaned in front beside him, and Adam held the blade towards the Iyrman, who was examining the blade.
Arcane Lore
D20 + 5 = 22 (17)
Adam eyed up the blade, feeling just how much power was within it. It was definitely greater than just a simple +1 enchantment, or even a +2 enchantment. However, with the blade in his hands, he felt the same as he did with his die in hand, that he could potentially cast spells through it.
“Cool,” Adam said.
“I feel it as warm,” Sir Merrick replied.
“It means amazing.” Adam chuckled.
Sir Merrick had admired Adam’s blade too. “Your blade is made of Iyrmen materials,” he said, noting the two Silver Ranks nearby. “I didn’t expect the Iyrmen gave out such materials to anybody.”
“I’m not anybody,” Adam said. “I’m Adam, son of Fate. I am a Nephew of the Rot family.”
‘Didn’t he only arrive a few months ago?’ Sir Merrick’s eyes fell across the Half Elf. ‘Yet he’s already surrounded by Iyrmen. Are they planning something?’ Sir Merrick recalled the meeting between the Duke and the Countess. ‘It couldn’t be about that matter, could it? Does the Iyr have connections to the Elves from back then?’ He stared at the Half Elf, who was admiring his blade. ‘Should I really have given him my sword?’
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Adam might make a habit of checking out other men's swords.
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