Chapter 8: 7. The Terrible Twosome

Adam couldn’t taste his meal any longer, and so quickly ate. There was a morsel of doubt which he had consumed with his food, forming a knot within his chest. He excused himself quickly, and Jurot, who had seen the darkness encroach on the half elf’s face, let him go. 

‘Adam son of Fate, your business is your own.’ However, he understood he had his own business too.

Adam retired to bed, falling onto it. He did not pull the blanket over himself, instead embracing the coolness of the air, staring at the ceiling.

[What are you thinking about?]

“Life,” Adam said. “In a sense.” 

[What about life are you thinking about?]

“The last time I went to the Iyr, it was to bring Jurot home. I was invited by the Iyr because of his death, and assisting in guiding him home. This time I made a bit of a mess with our first interaction, but more importantly… I’m not really wanted in the Iyr, am I?” 

[Do you regret Jurot living?]

“Bell, you sure say some stupid shit for a system.”

[…]

“I’m glad he’s alive, but…” Adam sighed. “This isn’t a time loop. Things have changed. There are things that I know and things that I don’t know. Jurot looks a little older, and his forehead is tattooed. I assume it’s something about being an Iyrman, but last time the pattern was only on his blanket and his shield. I assume the Iyr is still near enough the same place, but what if it’s changed? What’s all this about elves and dwarves, and elves and orcs? Where’s James? What about George and Fotti? What about Iromin? Since when did he carve statues?”

[Did he carve statues last time?]

“… I don’t know.”

[…]

“That’s beside the point.”

[What is the point?]

“The friends that I made before. Can I make them again this time? Will Entalia be willing to trust me in this life? What about Joti?” Adam reached up to his face, covering his eyes. “Back when I made a deal with Belle, he said I’d be the one to die. But…” He shut his eyes tight. “Since this world is so new, doesn’t that mean…”

[…]

“The world that I knew. The people I met. Aren’t they dead too? So am I the only one whose alive?” He pressed his fingers tight against his skull, marking his skin red under his fingers. 

[…]

Adam eventually calmed down, sighing. “How much XP do I have?”

[240XP.]

“Oh? That’s quite a lot for one day. You said I could spend experience on acquiring new features? How much is Tricks?”

[200XP.]

“Oh. I should have bought that before I bathed.” Adam shook his head. It would have made drying his clothes an absolute breeze, and he didn’t need to dash back to his room. “I’ll buy it.”

XP
240/240 -> 40/240
Spell Acquired
Tricks

“Stabilise, Guidance, Flame Bolt, and Tricks.” Adam sighed. “I’ve covered all the bases.” There was still a knot within chest, but he did feel lighter. “I’ve had quite the day today…” He closed his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Bell.”

[Good night, Jack.]

“…”

When he awoke in the morning, he donned his armour and strapped his blade to his side. He clutched at his arcane focus, which was always within arm’s reach somewhere. His heavy steps revealed his presence to the adventurers in the morning.

Many had already finished their breakfast and chosen their quests, others went elsewhere to relax and spend their coin, rather than alongside other brutish and sweaty adventurers. 

Jurot waved at Adam, sitting in the corner and mid way through his second breakfast. “Adam son of Fate, come.”

Adam had nothing better to do, so he grabbed a bowl of porridge and a few boiled eggs, before sitting down beside Jurot. He salted and peppered his eggs, and slightly salted his porridge. “Morning,” Adam said.

“Good morning,” Jurot replied. “Do you not train in the morning?”

“When I feel like it,” Adam replied back. “If I’m not working, I train. If I work, I find I work better if I don’t train.” He tried to be careful to not offend the Iyrman. 

“I must train every morning, for that is the Way of the Iyr.” Jurot nodded, finishing his bread. 

Adam noticed the copper adventurer’s tag loosely dangling down in front of Jurot. It was stamped twice. “You got your tag?”

Jurot nodded. “Yes.” He tapped his tag, revealing the two stamps, and smirked smugly. Usually people would get one or two stamps, but Iyrmen always received at least two.

“I should probably get mine.” The reception had been empty for a short while, so Adam had to wait. 

Once Adam was done with his food, a young man appeared at the front desk. He was fairly average looking in every way. Average height, dark hair, dark eyes. ‘How nondescript,’ Adam thought.

Adam approached to greet him. “Morning,” he said. “I’m Adam. I hear I was meant to pick up my tag.”

The young man looked up at Adam and nodded. He had been informed about Adam’s peculiar appearance in advance, though he had taken it only half serious. ‘By Arya’s might, he really is jacked as all hell. Tch.’ He had to make a mental note to hand a silver coin to Braun.

“Good morning,” the young man replied. “I’m Tom.” He reached down and placed down a copper tag in front of Adam which had his name stamped across it. “This is your adventurer’s tag. Don’t lose it, or you’ll have to pay for a new one. If you do lose it, inform us as immediately as you can. Make sure it’s visible when you enter any village, town, city, and whenever you enter any shops.”

‘So they can rip me off?’ Adam just smiled, nodding his head. “Understood.”

“You have to pay a gate fee, which depends on your rank. As a copper rank, you have to pay one copper piece each time you enter the town. If you don’t pay this, you’ll be in big trouble.”

‘What am I, a kid?’ Adam nodded again. “Understood.”

“Each time you complete a quest, you will gain stamps. Since you…” He looked around, seeing the adventurers eating, and yet knowing that they were listening. “Since you have quite a few great abilities.” Tom reached down, revealing a small peg, which reminded Adam of a USB Type C connector. 

‘It’s thinner this time?’

Tom pressed it in to the copper, the peg sinking in easily, removing the copper which met with it, tallying the tag three times. “One for being well versed in both magic and martial abilities, for the deal you made with the Adventurer’s Guild, and your last ability which was confirmed last night by a confidant.”

Stamps Gained
3

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Adam understood the reason behind the intentional vagueness, merely nodding his head to Tom. “Great.”

“You may take any quest from the board which is suitable for your rank. We will also search for a party on your behalf which your skills can round out.”

“There’s no need for that yet,” Adam said, shaking his head. 

“We, the guild, highly recommend that you find a party. Solo adventuring is a dangerous game.” Tom stared at Adam, trying to emphasise his point.

“I know it is, but that’s why I’ll take things at my own pace. I’m not going to join a party just for the sense of security it provides.” 

“Didn’t you want to find a family?” Jurot asked, approaching them. He looked at Adam’s tag, which had one extra stamp than his own. ‘…’

“Sure, eventually. Right now, I want to take things at my own pace.” He looked out to the other adventurers. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten but I have a particular skin condition of having pointed ears and eyes which can see in the dark?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Tom didn’t want to admit it, but that was a huge issue. The list of people Adam could join had probably decreased to a handful, and none of them would be people of this land. All except…

“I can party with you,” Jurot said.

‘Thank the gods for Iyrmen,’ Tom thought, staring at Jurot. ‘You damned beautiful bastard.’ Iyrmen always made jobs easy for most receptionists in the land, especially those within Red oak. Tom’s eyes then fell to Adam expectantly. “Do you accept?”

“Do I look like an idiot?” Adam asked. “Of course I’ll accept, it’s Jurot.” Even Adam, a relative stranger to the world, understood that one did not simply deny fighting alongside an Iyrman. 

Tom wasn’t sure what Adam meant by that. ‘Does he mean that because he’s an Iyrman?’

Jurot had his own reasons to party up with Adam. ‘I’m a genius. If I party up with him, I can find out what he wants to do and why he’s so suspicious.’

“Well, since we’ve decided to form a party, is there anything we need to do?” Adam asked.

“We have some paperwork which you’ll need to sign. This is a template of a typical party, where you two will split the loot equally between one another, and if you want to change that, you’ll need to speak to the guild and draft another contract. Everyone must sign the contract for it to be legitimised under the eyes of the law.”

‘Bureaucracy,’ Adam thought, though he could appreciate the sentiment behind it. “Half and half sounds fine.” He looked to Jurot. “Unless you think you’re worth more than me.”

“I am an Iyrman,” Jurot said. “Half and half is fair.”

“I should mention that yesterday I dropped my sword, but it wasn’t the only thing which dropped.” Adam winked.

Persuasion Check
D20 + 4 = 17 (13)

Jurot narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded. “That is true.”

Adam chuckled. “Then, let’s sign the contract and get to picking our first quest.”

The pair signed away their names to the template contract, where Tom first wrote their names in the party members section, had them both sign it, and then confirmed the signing. “Congratulations, you’ve formed a party. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Half Elf and Iyrman,” Adam said as a choke.

“Iyrman and Half Elf,” Jurot replied.

“It was a joke,” Adam said, looking to Jurot. “There’s no way we’re calling ourselves such a boring name.”

“There is no need to think too deeply about our name,” Jurot said. “We should spend less time thinking of a name, and more time picking a quest.”

“A name is what we go by. You have pride in the name Jurot, don’t you? Ju of the Rot family, Jurot son of Surot. Isn’t this the same?”

“In a way,” Jurot admitted.

“Then let’s pick something which embodies us both. Something like…”

“Muscle and Elf.”

Adam almost choked on air. “No.”

“Elf and Muscle?”

“Still no.”

“…”

“…”

“This is much harder than I expected.”

“Something cool, like…”

“…”

“The Two…” He had a word he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be associated with him. ‘This really is harder than I expected.’

Tom watched the two of them think of a name right in front of the reception. 

“Immortal Duo,” Adam said. 

“Immortal Duo?”

“We will be immortalised once people hear of our deeds, our stories.”

At first, Jurot had thought perhaps Adam had a bigger ego than he, but as he heard the reasoning, he slowly nodded along. “Our stories will be told for generations!”

“Until the end of days,” Adam said, smiling. 

Tom had gone through quite some harsh training to become a guild worker. He had to learn how to use a variety of weapons. He recalled having fought Paul until he was half dying countless times. He was beaten to a pulp repeatedly. He had to learn hundreds of rules to recite back at the drop of a pin. Due to all his training, he was able to stop his face from cringing at their terrible name.

“I’ll write that down, shall I?” Tom asked, keeping his voice even, not giving anything away.

“Yes,” the pair replied.

‘Oh, by the gods…’

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