“So, this is the Mad Dog I have heard so much about?” the woman ipte asked, wearing her amulet, that of a red bde pointed downwards within a circle. She also carried at her side a well made bde, ohat was no doubt tinted pink or red. She retty, the scar across the side of cheek only adding tged beauty, while her short hair curled over her ears, which were studded with silver.

  ‘Mad Dog?’ the other thought, also wearing a breastpte, and wearing a familiar amulet they had seen a few days ago, that of a sun within a flower. He in faced, and if not for the tattoo of a sun upon his , he would have seemed like any John in a city.

  “Careful with your tone, Sir Iris, for there are few Iyrmen I would rather have at my side than the Mad Dog,” Kris said. “If not for him, perhaps you would not see me this day.”

  Jarot inhaled sharply, almost grinding his teeth, as his eyes darted to the side, towards Sir Iris. His eyes remained focused, like a tiger who had spotted a lion within his territory, though for a moment, they held something else.

  Was he a boy who had been admonished?

  “You did not tell me about his wooden leg,” Sir Iris said, eyeing up the Iyrman, though she saw how he stood, ready to pou a moment’s notibsp;

  “He lost his leg in the civil war against the Blood Knight,” Kris stated, clearing his throat lightly, before smiling towards the Iyrmen before him. “Fate has brought us together it seems, for-,”

  “You should lower yaze,” the voice, gentle as a feather, called to them. “Was your previous Grand ander not also crippled?”

  Iris’ eyes darted to the Iyrman with grey skin, who wore a rge greatsword upon his back, and a gre within his eyes. “Who might you be?”

  “You should ask Sir Maxwell who I am.”

  “Unfortunately for me, the Keeper of the Bdes remains within the capital, mister…”

  “Rajin.”

  “Rajin?” the woman replied, narrowing her eyes slightly. ‘Who in the Damnation is that?’

  “Grandfather fought Sir Maxwell in his youth,” Timojin said. “He is known as the Bearded Dragon.”

  “You are the Bearded Dragon?” Iris asked, suddenly straightening up, her eyes suddenly glued to his. She was certain she had heard the name before. ‘Was it not…’

  “How is his arm?” Rajin asked.

  “Cold,” the woman replied, still holding the Iyrman’s gaze.

  ‘Bearded Dragon?’ Sir Hugo thought, gng between the Mad Dog and the Bearded Dragon. There was no ce that the pair appeared together, Sir Hugo was certain of it, sidering how many tales they had both earned a geion ago. The Mad Dog, who had taken his best friend’s eye, and Rajin, who had fought figures who were now Vianders, if not Grand anders, of the various athered here today. He thought of the other Iyrman who had e to the gathering, including the two Great Elders, who were also active during that time. ‘The Iyr is taking the threat seriously if they have brought so many great warriors.’

  “You will never guess who I spoke to earlier this year,” Kris said, smiling a smile that almost killed him. “I met Fme Bde as I made my way to the gathering.”

  “Hmm,” Jarot grinned wider, baring his teeth to the Viander. “It is a shame it is the fifth year, or the Bdes would have made an appearance here! It would have been yreat fortune!”

  “Right…” Kris replied, smiling awkwardly, feeling a hostility from the Iyrman’s words. “Shall I leave you to go and greet your-,”

  “Ah! How rude of me?” Jarot chuckled a low chuckle, more like a growl. “I have not yet introduced you to my grandsons!”

  Kris’ brows raised suddenly, feeling a gentle annoyance grow within his heart, that quickly gave way to surprise, as the Iyrman had spoken of his adoration for his grandsons and greatchildren so oftehought Jarot was the Mad Grandfather instead.

  “This is Jurot, my eldest son’s boy,” Jarot said, grabbing Jurot rather roughly, before pulling him forward.

  Jurot could feel how tight his grandfather gripped his colr, feeling the shaking hand that o grip something, else he might have made a mistake.

  “My Jurot… cimed first pce at the Nightval Tour st year!” Jarot howled with ughter, closing his eyes as his jaw tensed up, causing his ughter to e out like coughs.

  “I would have expected as much,” Kris said, holding out a hand to shake the Iyrman’s forearm. “It’s good to finally meet you, young man. Yrandfather often spoke of you.”

  ‘Papo! I love you too!’ Jirot had cimed, grabbing his face, kissing his cheek.

  Jurot could even feel Jarot’s small hands upon his bicep, squeezing at his muscles, the boy’s eyes wide from seeing the differen the sizes of their arms.

  “I am… Jurot.”

  “Right?” Kris replied, furrowing his brows, before shifting his hand to point towards the Iyrman instead sihe Iyrman didn’t want to shake his hand. ‘Why do you Iyrmen always have to be so queer?’

  “This is Adam, my grandson. He is Jurot’s brother, so he is my grandson.” Jarot tapped Adam’s purple armour, still smiling almost like a hyena, his eyes narrowing once more. He paused a moment for Adam’s joke, but the half elf remained silent. “He won first p the touroo. The Princess begged for a draw.”

  “I am quite certain,” Kris replied, chug lightly, before his hand to Adam, who did not take it, remaining still as a statue. “What? Did you Iyrmen stopped shaking forearms?”

  Adam swallowed, not speaking up to correct him, though it was obvious he was no Iyrman, since he had yet to remove his helmet. Which Iyrman did not reveal their tattoos so proudly?

  Kris’ eyes turo Amokan, noting his tattoos were different from the other Iyrmen nearby, save for Tonagek, whose tattoos were identical, save the colours were ied. Though, he was certain he had seen Amokan’s tattoos retly.

  “Do you remember I spoke of my greatchildren?” Jarot asked.

  “I do. One was named after you, if I recall?”

  “Perhaps we should speak of-,” Iris began, feeling something in the air.

  “That is right!” Jarot ughed, almost howling. “My greatson, Jarot. What a cute little boy he is! So small! So sweet! No child is as sweet as my Jarot!”

  The ughter caused the nearby figures to gheir way, noting the rge group speaking to the trio of Vianders, the Vianders which had remaiogether due to obvious reasons, for they were each members of the previous Orders which made their home in what was now Floria.

  “His twin sister. Do you remember her name?”

  “Jirot?” Kris replied, throwing out a name, smiling awkwardly towards the Iyrman.

  “Yes!” Jarot’s grin grew even wider, his eyes full of sheer delight. “She is trouble, my Jirot. She is too smart for her age! When I returned from the war, missing my leg from the Blood Knight, they had fotten me! My greatchildren, who I coddled against my chest eaight, they had fotten this old man, because he was too busy in the war! I deserved it. They were too young, babes, but…”

  Kris saw Jarot lick his lips, the old man chewing on his thoughts, far more unnerving than he had been a few years ago. ‘Did losing his leg bring him such pain?’

  “After some time, coddling against my chest, who dare say they are my greatchildren’s favourite babo?” Jarot ughed once more, a ugh full of such delight, though quickly his eyes filled with his wildness again. “They adore me, and I? I adore them. I adore them, Viander.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “What of you?” Jarot asked, his voice almost a whisper. “Where is she, that… apprentice of yours? Melinda, yes?”

  Kris smiled, motioning a hand to one of the nearby women who had sat with the other warriors, pying di the rain, and drinking lightly. “Sir Melinda, e ahe Mad Dog. It’s a shame that you hadn’t met st time, but fighting side by side against the Reavers? I’m certain it is a greater honour than fag against our old brothers and sisters.”

  Melinda stood, bowing her head lightly, the woman in her early thirties or so, adorned ipte over a light , carrying a bde at her side, and an amulet that denoted her Order. “I have heard a great many stories of your exploits, Mad Dog. Your ce in fag against Lord Asa has spread through our Order, and your tale of killing the Azure Terror has spread further.”

  The nearby figures threw looks towards the older Iyrman, he who had one arm and one leg.

  He killed the Azure Terror?

  Suddenly, his erratic behaviour made much more sense, since he was strong enough to be that mad.

  “I did!” Jarot licked his lips again, tasting the light rain that matted his hair. “He killed my son, my daughter, and my grandson. So I killed him by my two hands.” Jarot blinked, staring down at his scarred hand, g it into a fist, warming it up for what was to e. “I did what I had to, as a father. The Iyr did not deny me my rights.”

  “Of course,” Kris said, seeing the look from Jarot’s eyes, which caused a chill to run through his spine. “Every father should gain his vengeance, especially against such wicked beasts.”

  “Aye,” Jarot growled, feeling the rage stir deeper within him, spreading through his old bones, warming his body. “Those who kill children are er than wicked beasts.”

  Standing beside Melinda, Martha narrowed her eyes towards the figure in the purple armour, then his brother, and finally the red skinned figures nearby, one of whom had caught her gaze. ‘Aren’t they…’

  Kris narrowed his eyes slightly. His instincts told him something was amiss, but he wasn’t quite sure, and he couldn’t bring his eyes away from the old Iyrman who he had fought beside during the civil war.

  “My Jarot. My Jirot. I love them so much. I wish to teach my Jarot our ways, but he is too soft, and I… am too weak. My Jirot? She is fierce. I am too weak to her, for she bullies me so viciously, though she is only four.” The tears slipped down the side of his cheeks. “I have mreatsons. Another is Larot. Quiet. Well behaved. He was born ter, after the war.”

  “Perhaps you tell me about him over dinner?” Kris offered, fshing a charming smile towards the Iyrman.

  “No,” Jarot almost growled, his neck pulsing, his smile causing him to bare his fangs. “I wish to ask you ohing, Viander. I told you so much about my greatchildren. I told you how much I adored them. So why did you do it?”

  Kris furrowed his brows. “Do what, Mad Dog?”

  “Why did you kill them?” Jarot’s voice shook, and the rage threateo overwhelm him.

  “Excuse me?”

  At least he finally mentioned Larot.