The countless ships scattered across the sea, fishing all across the sea, while a rather large and impressive galley floated its way to the crew. The Mulazim upon the galley glared at the half elf Captain, who remained completely silent and still, returning his own glare, before the galley slipped to one side and allowed the ship to continue on its way to the capital of Northern Aswadasad, Arisa.
“Red Port, or Noble Port, there are many nas for Arisa in another’s tongue, but you should know of it as the port which holds the best wine, or perhaps, the best soldiers,” Dunes said, though upon speaking of the best soldiers, he smirked slightly.
“If you are to include the halfzers north, they are,” Jurot said, his arms crossed as the ship sailed towards the port.
“If you include the halfzers, I would agree, without, they are as decent as any other,” Dunes replied.
“We should include the halfzers, whose lands the Faro returned to them, and the border between what is now Floria and Aswadasad was secured for generations.”
“It seems the King is eager to form relations with the Faro, though the Shen may be able to create a deeper relation,” Dunes said.
“The halfzers are secure, for the Faro would not give up such great warriors even for King rryweather.”
“Do you not believe in greed?”
“There is greed, and then there are the halfzers,” Jurot replied simply.
“They’re really that strong?” Adam asked.
“Though Aldland can pillage and loot Aswadasad, they cannot take the land of Northern Aswadasad, for they will not accept the rule of any who are not the Faro,” Jurot replied simply.
“You said it was sothing about them returning to their ho, right?”
“Yes,” Jurot stated, the shadow of a smile appearing upon his lips as he recalled the story of the halfzers, and just how difficult they were to face in battle. “The halfzers are Iyrmanly, that way. Though, they are not as autonomous as we of the Iyr.”
“Iyr or the halfzers, who wins?” Adam asked, flashing a cheeky smile.
“The Iyr,” Jurot replied with not even a mont’s thought.
“Of course you’d say that, but then again, so would I!” Adam laughed, poking Jurot with his elbow lightly.
The city sprawled across the horizon, the buildings flowing out like a wave across the land, the hilly terrain hiding much of the expansive city behind from the sea. The giant docks held hundreds of ships, though countless ships continued dotting the sea like bustling ants, but while the ships imposed upon their sight a wall ready to slaughter anyone about to sneeze the wrong way, the docks lted into the rest of the city, but not before the large cliffs, which separated the dock to the city proper, each mounted with large crossbows and ballistae, ready to fend off any army, or troublemakers.
“You know, I noticed we passed by the coast line, and there was a fort, villages, towns, all pretty packed in close, compared to Aldland,” Adam said as the Windy Warhawk waited for the smaller military vessel to confirm them.
“Aswadasad is ho to more towns and villages than Aldland,” Dunes inford. “The population is similar, but Aldland’s are all focused upon their towns, while our villages and towns, we each share a culture, but we are also very different. Aldland has its tribesfolk, we have ours, but ours are also considered Aswadian, but...”
“We shouldn’t say that around them?” Adam asked, noting the way Dunes slowly nodded his head.
“The tribesfolk in Aldland were brought to heel to hide many years ago. Aswadasad did not dare to try such, we ford our own relationships, and over ti they are all but Aswadian.”
“There are many dragons in Aswadasad, and they would not have allowed any Shen to try to subjugate the tribesfolk,” Jurot said, exchanging a look with Dunes, who nodded his head slowly.
“I heard the dragons have beco more neutral or allied with Aswadasad now?” Adam asked.
“Almost all of them, but the Shen of the Golden Desert, and another in the mountains near Aswabayad.”
“There’s another one, right? Veisswing’s sister?”
“Princess of the Red Desert, who makes her ho within our mountain.”
“Oh? Really?”
“Yes,” Dunes replied, certain he had inford Adam, though as the mont passed, the pair wondered if they had.
“Huh. I thought you were in Black Mountain?”
“She left the Red Desert, but still claims the title, and we sotis send a few of our Order to check upon her land.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“There are many other great figures in Aswadasad,” Jurot said, exchanging a look with Dunes, who smiled slightly, since upon the Black Mountain, which was mostly owned by the Shen, there was another great figure within, though it was more of an open secret.
“Is the Princess of the Red Desert also a Wing?” Adam asked.
“Yes.”
“Veisswing is special,” Jurot said. “He was adopted by Slumber Claw.”
“Who?”
“The one who played dragonchess.”
“Oh! He’s the really old dragon, right? Ancient?” Adam asked.
“He is the Ancient Brass Dragon,” Jurot confird.
“Brass?”
“The Claw family are brass dragons, while the Wing family are bronze. Veisswing was adopted when he was still young.”
“Oh, that’s really nice of him.”
“Slumber Claw is…” Dunes began, unsure of how to describe him. “Strong.”
“How strong?”
“He would be able to clash with Lady Jaeryael.”
“Man, that’s crazy that she’s so strong, we can benchmark other strong people against her,” Adam said, shaking his head lightly. ‘That would be so cool…’
“Emperor Shama is of similar strength,” Jurot added.
“Yeah?” Adam asked, revealing an almost dangerous look in his eyes. ‘So if I can beat Jaeryael, then…’
“Lady Jaeryael is well respected,” Jurot said, noting Adam’s face.
“Adam, please,” Dunes called out, almost groaning at the half elf’s expressions.
“A man’s thoughts are his own!” Adam complained, flushing red.
As the Windy Warhawk docked, the group walked down onto the docks, while the crew worked on getting the carriages onto the ground, the dockguard, adorned in their full scale, holding onto their spears, shortblades at their side, eyed up the group. The leader, an older woman, caught the sight of the Priest in black and silver.
“Mo,” she called, the older woman also adorned in full scale, spear, a long, dark cloak falling down to her calves, a dallion clasping her cloak over her scale, stamped with elongated Aswadic letters forming a symbol, wearing a blade made of gemsteel at her side.
“Mulazim,” Dunes replied.
“Are you with these foreigners?” The Mulazim asked, eyes scanning across the group, who were mostly Iyrn.
“They are with ,” Dunes corrected, smiling wide.
“If you wish to take responsibility for them, you may, but if they cause trouble…”
“They welco it, but they will not seek it,” Dunes assured.
“What is their business in Aswadasad at such a ti?” The Mulazim eyed the Iyrn up, each of whom seed so confident, young children, yet to be beaten by the world and ti, for though they were Iyrn, they were too young to hold such a viciousness within their eyes.
“They are escorting back to Black Mountain,” Dunes replied.
“That is all?”
“No, but it is their main task.”
“All of them are escorting you to Black Mountain?”
Dunes looked back at the large group, taking them all within his sight for a long mont, before turning back to look at the Mulazim. “Yes.”
The Mulazim narrowed her eyes, unsure if Dunes was hiding sothing, and that charming smile of his all but confird it. The pair glared into one another’s eyes for a long while, for the Mulazim wondered just how much she should press upon the young Priest, while Dunes remained steadfast, and completely unphased by her look.
“What other business do you have within Aswadasad, Mo.”
“We may wish to complete trade,” Dunes admitted, and as the woman raised her brows, suddenly far more intense, he smiled wider. “They work for the United Kindom, a business near the Iyr, which deals with magical weapons.”
“Magical weapons?” The Mulazim reached into cloak, pulling out a small book, flicking it open as she wrote sothing with her stylus. “Have they paid the fees for trade?”
“They are not trading at this mont,” Dunes replied. “They may wish to speak with the Shen for a dealing, but for now, their main task is to escort to Black Mountain safely.”
“What of the Faro?”
“What of the Faro?” Dunes replied, smiling wider. “If the Faro wishes to procure magical equipnt, then perhaps upon our return, we shall send word.”
“Are you in such a rush?”
“A small rush.”
The woman remained silent for a long mont, slowly bowing her head. “Why are there so many Iyrn?”
“There is an Iyrman child.”
“Ah,” the Mulazim stated, her eyes quickly darting along all the Iyrn, before noting the younger red skinned, horned Iyrman in full plate, whose forehead was not tattooed. ‘Thank Noor I caused no trouble.’
Dunes, using the card of the teen Iyrman, smiled innocently, and with that, any trouble the Mulazim had wished to create, dissipated into the air, like lakes in the Golden Desert.
When you realise Taygak is the most OP mber of the party.
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