[1397] – Y06.297 – Sorrowed Hearts VII
Adam awoke the next morning, a healthy meditation followed by a healthy berating, completing a light morning routine, his stretched, and finally as one might have expected of him, bathing. As he donned his turban, the half elf stepped out to meet his companions for breakfast, rice tanned by butter, well salted meat, vegetables wearing blankets of spice.
“Mo, I was going to send word to the Malawi, but I think it may be best for you to send word to the Malawi instead,” Adam said, as though he had learnt his lesson.
“What word should I send?” Dunes replied, raising his brows as though he didn’t know what Adam was asking.
“If we could also earn the support of Kal Korin and Lady Sara for the business,” Adam replied, with a wisdom that implied he was his wife’s husband.
Dunes remained silent for a long beat, holding Adam’s gaze. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleasantly surprised, or if he should mourn the half elf who he had fought beside. “I can inform him of such, though…”
“Though?”
“I am certain the Malawi will beat me senseless if I sent word now.”
“Ah…” Adam thought about it. “It’s probably better if you send word rather than me.”
“That is true.”
Adam flushed slightly, for Dunes was bullying him, but even he couldn’t refute the words. He thought of his daughter, who he couldn’t ask for support, since she would take her ahm’s side since the words were true, and though she was adorably harsh, she was an Iyrman, and spoke the truth.
“Why would the Malawi beat you?“ Korin asked.
“With how much I have troubled him?” Dunes replied.
“How much have you troubled Mo Adilnur?”
Dunes and Adam held Korin’s gaze for a long while, both recalling the Acting Malawi was now Adilnur.
“Oh, right…” Adam blinked. “I could message him.”
“It may be best if I…” Dunes paused. “No, it may be best for you to send word, since he likes you.”
“Being insane sometimes has its benefits, huh?” Adam joked, causing Dunes to smile, and Korin to chuckle. The half elf fed little Amal the sweet rice, while the girl herself reached out for the tiny balls of fruit, chewing them with a great confidence, for Amal was Amal.
It was a typical day within Forest Port, especially at the docks. It was their docks which held a great influence over the region, so it wasn’t a surprise the docks were given special attention by the noble families within Forest Port, each taking a slice of their pie, though none taking command of the docks, allowing another force, a neutral third party, keep order. However, even with such a neutral force, there was plenty of trouble found within the docks.
Ironarm, his skin dark, lightened by scars of betrayal, glared at the group of Noskan, who had essentially quarantined an area for themselves, eating, drinking, laughing as they pleased. They had already fought quite a few of the dockguard, though they paid the various fines. However, to see them, the Noskan, act as though Aswadasad was their playground.
“Brother, don’t you think this is wrong?” Snake Tongue Yusuf asked. “We can’t let them behave like this in our land.”
“Do I disagree?” Ironarm Faisal asked, his arm wrapped in metal, amplifying his weak arm thanks to the gnomish mechanics. It was his blessing to have saved the life of a gnome so many years ago during such a troubling time for him, which had paid dividends.
“I say we fix the issue,” Yusuf said, ready to draw his blade, eager to spill Noskan blood, while the rest of his companions aroused with a flame within their hearts.
The pale Noskan lifted up the small cup of milk, staring down at it. ‘Their cups are small, as small as their will to fight.’
As a shadow loomed over the Noskan, his eyes darting to the side. He glared at the figure that blocked out the sun, though he was glad for the chill, for warmth made for weak bones.
“You have spent so long within the docks, but you haven’t paid your dues,” Ironarm said, glaring down at the Noskan.
“Dues? We pay steel.” Heavy Sword Tharak replied, placing a hand on the hilt of his large blade that leaned against the table, the handle of the blade wrapped in leather, the pommel a thick circle, large enough to fit five arrows, which is all he would need.
“We accept that too,” Ironarm stated, his eyes holding the Noskan’s gaze, their companions each growing hot with that kind of passion, the passion to spill blood all over the earth.
‘Noor take them!’ one of the dockguard thought. ‘It was bad enough to deal with those savages, but damned Ironarm is causing trouble too?’
“I’ll go call the Mulazim,” a guard whispered to the other.
“What will the Mulazim accomplish?”
“It’s better than nothing.”
The guard sighed, resigning him to the fact that they were not powerful to stop these two groups, each roughly a half dozen strong, and each at least Experts. What were they meant to do against that?
The step of a fool of a father silenced the scene. He was tall, lean, his skin dark as night, his grin as bright as the sun, his hair striped, orange with dye, grey with time, and at his sword he wore a sword, one which was slightly thinner and longer than a typical blade. He wore cream attire, with a vest of emerald green, with white stripes. At his side was a beautiful woman, her hair also beginning to grow grey with time, her skin equally as dark, her eyes as bright as his smile. She, too, wielded a blade at her side, similar to the old man, and similar attire, though a scarf of white covered most of her hair, and her lower chin. Around them were a dozen or so figures, some armoured, some unarmoured, but all well armed. Finally, a young girl who was chewing the dried fruit, stood beside them, in the emerald vest and the white strips, but also a colourful scarf she had picked out to wear while going on her walk.
“What is this? In this humble town of ours, nephew, you are causing trouble?” the old man asked, grinning like a beast, his eyes sparkling, while his granddaughter nibbled on her fruit, staring out towards the scene fearlessly.
“None at all, uncle,” Ironarm said, having not yet drawn his blade, and now far more reluctant to do so.
“What of you, Noskan?”
“If Aswadi fight, Noskan not run,” the Noskan replied.
“Too many will die if you begin to fight,” the old man said, still grinning. “So settle down while I am being polite.”
“…”
‘Who in this town will draw their blade in front of I,the Tiger Sword of Mina al-Gabba?’ the old man thought, still grinning like a beast, for even if they did, he and his sister would be more than willing to step forward to match, and with their guards, they would have little to worry about.
‘If the Tiger Sword has stepped forward…’ Faisal thought, before glancing aside to Yusuf, who raised his brows questioningly. ‘With a name like Snake Tongue, of course you’d want me to fight with him. I’m going to live for at least another twenty years, you son of a dog.’
The Noskan watched the retreating forms, and as they glanced aside, they noted the way the Tiger Sword glared at them, with such a large smile upon his face, and they understood they shouldn’t cause trouble. ‘He must rule the docks.’
“Heavy Sword,” one of the Noskan said. “He’s the Tiger Sword of Forest Port.”
“Sounds like a good fight,” Heavy Sword said.
“If you want to die, give me the tablet,” Storm Fox said, holding out a hand.
“If you can claw it from my cold dead hands, you can take it!”
The Aswadian could feel the trouble emanating from the Noskans, and he glanced aside towards his granddaughter, who tucked her hair behind her scarf, annoyed by the wind, before finally her grandaunt picked her up to help her.
‘I should-,’ the Tiger Sword thought, before noting the appearance of several figures, including one of them. ‘I heard one of them had arrived recently…’
“This place really is Forest Port, huh?” Adam said, noting the mass of trees sprinkled throughout the town, with a great many parks and orchards that expanded the town by at least threefold compared to a similarly populated town.
“It is,” Dunes agreed. “Did you know that the current Sword of the Forest descends from the figure who made sure to include the clause for the port town to always have as many trees as buildings?”
“What do you mean by a clause?”
“When they originally formed the precepts to guide the town into the future many years ago, there was one fellow, a fool they called at the time, who made sure to include such a clause, the wife of one of the administrators at the time convinced her husband to include the clause into the precepts, and now…” Dunes motioned a hand to the trees in the distance.
“That’s really cute,” Adam said, though he assumed it was quite easy for an influential family to keep their influence. It was rare for prominent families to fall, rarer than even a poor man rising up into the ranks of the rich. So what else could he call it other than cute?
Uli noted the appearance of the man in the emerald vest, reaching up to undo his mask, revealing his face, causing the old man’s eyes to widen with familiarity, the old man retreating swiftly.
‘What is he doing here?’ Tiger Sword thought.
‘Ah,’ the Shadow Beauty Sword thought upon seeing Uli’s face, before it was hidden away behind the mask.
“Oh!” Adam gasped. “We need to buy another carriage!”
Dunes sighed.
PATREON LINK
These epithets go hard.
Also I keep forgetting to upload chapters. I'll try to keep on top of it!
