HBWnovel [757] – Y03.057 – Onward X
[757] – Y03.057 – Onward X
[757] – Y03.057 – Onward X
The bronze scales glittered above, even as dusk began to fall all across the land. The soldiers marched to the walls, while the various captains and their aides brought out barrels of arrows, though not just any barrels, those which had been painted completely black. However, though the captains of the various units had brought out the barrels, they did not bring the barrels to their own soldiers, instead they went to a particular group.
Sir Katherine ran her finger along the bowstring, feeling how smooth it was to her fingertip. It was made of vulfaire, a canine creature from the north, with the softest fur one could imagine, and with a hide which could be used to create some of the best bowstrings.
“Sir Katherine,” one of the Captains called, placing down the barrel before the leader of the Whirlwind Arrows, named after the woman herself.
She only nodded, letting the several Captains leave, while the Captains of her own squads began to disseminate the arrows between themselves. There was one particular barrel which remained, a black barrel with a single white skull painted across its top. She pulled off the lid, revealing the arrows within. She reached for one of the arrows in the centre.
It was an arrow made of dragon bone, the faint tingle of magic running through her fingers as she held it within her hand. She looked up towards the dragon, watching as it continued to fly overhead.
‘If you’re going to reveal those arrows...’ the bronze dragon thought, smelling the vile scent of the arrows from the fort, even this far away. The arrows were not typical arrows, but those of dragon slaying, which would strike viciously against his kind.
‘Should I go down to have a chat?’ The dragon yawned, feeling the tiredness set within his bones. ‘No, I should return and kidnap a bard to read the stories to me.’
The soldiers watched as the dragon sped up to its maximum speed, veering off to the side slightly, around the minor fort. However, they did not relax. They watched as the dragon slowed until it was cruising once more, and as the minutes passed, it disappeared across the horizon.
Katherine sighed, glad the dragon had decided against attacking, or coming down to chat. They were still in an awkward spot, so a dragon coming to speak with them would have been quite some news, and would have put their newly fledged kingdom in an even more precarious position.
“You were rather focused on the dragon,” Adam accused, his eyes glued to the young Aswadian priest.
“It was no doubt a dragon from Aswadasad,” Dunes replied, simply.
“Why’d you think that?”
“Where else but the sands of Aswadasad would a bronze dragon find their home?”
“The Confederacy?” Adam replied.
Dunes shrugged his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at Adam, smirking slightly. “That is a fair point, but I’m certain this bronze dragon, who has left us be, is a decent dragon.”
“Are there dragons who aren’t decent?”
“Many, but I will not name them.”
“Why not?”
“It might find its way to a dragon.”
“Is that a problem?”
Dunes smiled wider. “Yes. I may end up dead.”
“Does that happen?”
“It has happened, yes.”
“Oh...” Adam blinked. ‘I guess that makes sense. Dragons are basically nobles with the power to put the people beneath them through sheer force.’
While the soldiers returned back to their posts, a specific Captain made his way to the Commander of the fort.
‘The grandson of the previous Elder Wrath?’ Lady Marcia thought, trying to recall the young man who had fought in the spar against the soldier. ‘The grandchildren of Mad Dog. The cousins to a pair of Chief candidates. Why has such a group come to us?’
The soldiers kept an eye out on Adam’s group, which had brought them so much stress without doing anything.
“Alright, we’ll have someone on watch in the camp, just in case the dragon comes back,” Adam said.
“Is it also a group of the business?”
“We are currently Fate’s Golden,” Jurot replied. “We are an adventuring group. Some of us work for the business of the United Kindom, but the fort has yet to be made.”
“The fort?”
“A fort for the business.”
“Why does a business need a fort?”
Jurot remained stone cold, staring into her eyes. Since she wasn’t budging from her stupid question, the Iyrman inhaled deeply. “The Iyr is creating a fort in partnership with the business. The fort will be made in the Iyr’s land. The fort is to provide safety for the people of the business.”
Marcia remained silent, wondering how far she could push the topic. “Your group, Fate’s Golden, has quite some figures within it. The grandchildren of Mad Dog, the grandson of the previous Elder Wrath, two cousins of a Chief candidate. Are you currently undergoing operations under official authority of the Iyr?”
Jurot thought for a long moment. There was a thought which ran through his mind, a thought which had only appeared while he was trying to think of an answer for the noble. A secondary thought entered his mind too, wishing Kitool was here to reply instead. “We Iyrmen are here to adventure as members of Fate’s Golden while the fort is built.”
“Is it a coincidence that your group is full of individuals with connections to such great figures?”
“No,” Jurot replied. “I am Jurot, of the Rot family. I grew up with members of the Gak, Ool, and Kan families. The Kan family has produced many Chiefs, and Amokan wishes to continue that legacy. The Jin family also do the same, and Timojin wishes to continue that legacy.”
“What of the young man by the name of Bavin?”
“He is the grandson of Bovin, the previous Elder Wrath.”
“Why is he wish your group?”
“Bovin has requested we assist in training Bavin,” Jurot replied.
“Why?”
“Bavin is meek.”
“...” Marcia narrowed her eyes. That Iyrman was meek? She had watched the fight, and if that’s what the Iyr considered meek...
Jurot waited to see if the Commander had any more questions for the young Iyrman.
“You said the farmers and porters were Experts?” Marcia asked.
“Yes.”
“Are they also members of the business?”
“They are considered to be members of the business,” Jurot replied.
Marcia thought about the farmers and porters in the group. “Are the farmers and porters from Aldland?”
“Yes,” Jurot replied, before keeping the woman’s gaze with his own. “They are from Red Oak.”
“...” Marcia slowly bowed her head. Red Oak was in quite the spot, since technically it was a part of South Aldland, which had now become Floria, but it had worked closely with Aldland, and had certain assurances from the Iyr.
“What is your opinion on Floria?” Marcia asked.
“Your King is strong,” Jurot replied, the shadow of a smile appearing on his face.
He's not wrong.