Chapter 18: Chapter 17: Rokrun
A/N:Hope u enjoy this chapter send some power stones and I'll upload one more later today.
Adam trudged down the mountain path, his boots kicking up loose dirt and pebbles with each weary step. The week of travel since leaving the sanctuary had taken its toll. His body ached from days of relentless movement, and the scent clinging to him was nothing short of rancid. The lack of proper hygiene hadn't helped; every trip to answer nature's call had been an exercise in desperation, nearly ending with him wiping himself with poison ivy. The thought still made him cringe.
He pulled out the stolen map he'd taken off the bandit he'd dealt with two days prior. His knife had done most of the talking in that exchange. His eyes focused on the small marker on the map labeled Rokrund, a Noxian settlement built into the lower valley of the mountain. According to the map, the settlement traded regularly with Piltover, which could mean an opportunity to hitch a ride on a trade ship.
But there was a problem—it was a Noxian settlement. Adam frowned, remembering the stories Morgana had told him about Noxus. Their empire was brutal, expansive, and unwavering in its conquest. This place was unlikely to welcome outsiders warmly, but he had no other option. He needed supplies, maybe even a bath, and most importantly, a plan to get to Piltover without getting caught in the crossfire of the ongoing war between Noxus and Demacia.
"Guess I'm going in," he muttered, adjusting his pack and setting his sights on the settlement below.
The closer Adam got, the clearer it became that Rokrund wasn't a settlement in the traditional sense. It was fortified like a military camp, with tall, spiked wooden palisades and Noxian banners flapping in the wind. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter, their black and red armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The sound of clanking metal and barked orders carried up the path, making Adam's stomach twist with unease.
As he approached the gates, two guards stepped forward, spears crossing in front of him to block his path.
"Halt! State your name and purpose,"one barked, his tone sharp and commanding.
Adam raised his hands in mock surrender, offering what he hoped was a disarming smile. "Name's Adam. Just an adventurer passing through. Looking to trade some goods—animal fur, serpent scales. Nothing that'll cause trouble."
The guards exchanged glances, clearly sizing him up. Adam kept his posture relaxed but let his eyes scan his surroundings. A frontal fight here would be suicide.
"You don't look like a trader,"the second guard said, his tone laced with suspicion.
Adam shrugged. "Looks can be deceiving. I've been out in the wild for weeks. Smell like it too, if you're wondering. Just need to offload some goods, grab a meal, and be on my way."
After a tense moment, the first guard nodded. "Fine. But don't cause any trouble. General Darius is in town, and I doubt he'll take kindly to some stranger stirring the pot."
Adam nodded, stepping through the gates as his pulse quickened. The mention of Darius sent a chill down his spine. He'd heard of the Noxian general—a towering man of unmatched strength and brutality on the battlefield. The less interaction Adam had with him, the better.
The settlement was alive with activity. Merchants hawked their wares, blacksmiths hammered away at weapons and armor, and soldiers moved in coordinated units, their discipline evident in every step. Adam's eyes scanned the area, his mind racing as he formulated a plan.
Near the center of the settlement, a man stood out—a giant of a man clad in heavy black armor with a crimson cape trailing behind him. His great battleaxe gleamed menacingly as he barked orders to a group of soldiers. Adam recognized him immediately.
"That's Darius," he thought, his heart pounding.
For a brief moment, their eyes met. Adam felt the weight of the general's gaze, like a predator sizing up its prey. He held his breath, resisting the urge to reach for his weapon. Darius narrowed his eyes but said nothing before mounting a massive warhorse and riding out of the settlement with a battalion of soldiers in tow.
As the dust settled, Adam exhaled in relief. "Good riddance," he muttered. "One less problem to deal with."
Adam made his way to a small stall where a grizzled merchant was inspecting his wares. The man looked up, his expression sour as his gaze swept over Adam.
"What do you want?"the merchant asked gruffly.
Adam pulled out a bundle of serpent scales, their iridescent surface catching the light. "Looking to trade. These scales are from a river serpent—rare and valuable. I need food, supplies, and information."
The merchant scoffed. "You've got the stink of a Freljordian, boy. We don't take kindly to your kind here."
Adam raised an eyebrow, unfazed."I'm not from the Freljord, but thanks for the warm welcome."
The merchant's eyes narrowed, but the sight of the scales made him pause. After a tense moment, he grunted. "All right. Let me see those scales."
Adam handed them over, and the merchant's demeanor shifted as he inspected them. The craftsmanship of nature itself was unmistakable, and the man's greed won out over his prejudice.
"Fine. I'll give you supplies and some information. But don't think this means I like you."
"Wouldn't dream of it,"Adam replied dryly.
After securing his supplies and learning that the trade ship bound for Piltover would depart that night, Adam decided to wait at the local inn. The place was dimly lit and smelled of stale ale, but it was warm, and the food—though basic—was a welcome change from the dried meat he'd been living on.
As he sat at a corner table, nursing a mug of watered-down ale, he noticed a group of men eyeing him from across the room. Their whispers and pointed glances made their intentions clear.
"They want my stuff,"Adam thought, suppressing a sigh.
When the men approached, their leader, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, leaned on the table and smirked.
"Nice gear you've got there,"he said. "Looks heavy on you, though. Why don't you let us take it off your hands?"
Adam leaned back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. "Appreciate the offer, but I think I'll manage. Thanks, though."
The man's smirk faded, replaced by a sneer. "Don't be stupid, boy. Hand it over before we make you regret it."
Adam met his gaze, his own expression hardening. "You can try."
The man's fist slammed into the table, but before he could make another move, Adam was on his feet. The fight was over almost as quickly as it began. Adam's fists and agility made short work of the group, leaving them groaning on the floor as he stepped over them and walked out of the inn.
The docks were bustling with activity as workers unloaded cargo from the trade ship. Adam found a vantage point on the roof of a nearby building, watching as the workers moved back and forth. The process was taking longer than he expected, and fatigue was beginning to set in.
"Just need to wait a bit longer," he muttered, leaning back against the chimney. Before he knew it, sleep overtook him.
He woke with a start to the sound of the ship's horn. Panicking, he saw the ship pulling away from the dock.
"Damn it!" he hissed, leaping to his feet.
With no time to think, he sprinted toward the edge of the roof and leaped, firing an arrow with a rope attached. The arrow found its mark, embedding itself in the ship's side as Adam swung onto the deck a neat trick Ash taught him. He quickly scrambled up, dodging guards and workers as he slipped into the shadows of the cargo hold.
Finding a hiding spot among the crates, Adam settled in, his heart racing as the ship sailed toward Piltover. The journey would take five days, and he'd need to stay hidden the entire time.
Days later
The third day aboard the ship was hell for Adam. The constant rocking of the waves left him nauseous, and his stomach churned with every sway. He'd forgotten how much he hated boats—the mix of rotting wood, saltwater, and fish made his nose wrinkle every time he tried to breathe. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep off the queasy feeling. The tight, cramped space he was hiding in only made things worse, its humid, dank air suffocating him.
"God, this is worse than that time I ate the bad meat in Freljord," Adam groaned, clutching his stomach. His head thudded against the crate behind him as he tried to distract himself. "Just two more days. Just two more days…"
Suddenly, a loud **boom** echoed through the hull, rattling the ship and sending a shiver of dread down Adam's spine. His eyes snapped open as he heard shouting from above.
"What now?" he muttered, pulling himself to his feet.
The shouting grew louder, accompanied by more explosions and the sharp crack of wood splitting under pressure. Adam crept out of his hiding space and climbed to the deck, sticking to the shadows as he peeked out. What he saw made his stomach drop for an entirely different reason.
A pirate ship loomed beside them, its black sails tattered but menacing. Cannons fired relentlessly, shaking the trade ship with every impact. Pirates armed with swords, axes, and—wait, was that a **gun**?—prepared to board.
"You've got to be kidding me,"Adam thought, his hands instinctively gripping the hilt of his dagger. He considered his options. He could stay hidden and wait this out, hoping the crew could fend off the attack, or…
"Ah, screw it,"he growled, stepping fully onto the deck.
The crew and captain turned toward him, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion as he emerged from the shadows. Without a word, Adam raised his bow, nocking an arrow and drawing it back. His target—a pirate attempting to ignite one of their cannons—never saw it coming. The arrow struck true, piercing the man's head and sending him crumpling to the deck. The cannon misfired, exploding in place and setting part of the pirate ship ablaze.
The crew's shock quickly turned to action as Adam barked, "Move the ship! They're getting closer!"
The captain, an older man with a grizzled beard and a voice like gravel, snapped out of his stupor and began shouting orders. The trade ship veered hard, but it wasn't enough. The pirates rammed into the side, grappling hooks flying as they pulled the ships together. Dozens of pirates leaped across, weapons drawn.
Adam didn't hesitate. Drawing his sword, he charged into the fray. His first swing sliced cleanly through an incoming pirate, the man's shocked face frozen as he fell. Adam ducked and spun, narrowly avoiding an axe aimed for his head. His dagger found the attacker's gut, and he shoved the man aside.
The loud crack of a gunshot caught Adam's attention, and he turned just in time to see a pirate leveling a musket at him. His heart raced. Guns. They had guns in this world. He'd been expecting swords, spears, and magic—not modern weaponry.
"Shit!" Adam hissed, diving for cover.
Grabbing a nearby pirate, he pulled the man in front of him just as the musket looking gun fired. The bullet tore through the pirate's chest, and Adam shoved the body aside, throwing his dagger into the shooter's neck. The man dropped, gurgling, as Adam rolled forward and snatched the musket from the deck.
"Let's see how this works," he muttered, raising it and firing at another pirate. The kickback was stronger than he expected, but the shot hit its mark, sending the pirate sprawling.
The crew, emboldened by Adam's presence, took up arms and fought back fiercely. The deck became a chaotic battlefield, blood and bodies littering the planks. The pirates, overwhelmed by the combined efforts of Adam and the crew, began to retreat. Their fiery ship groaned under the strain of its own ammunition catching fire. Moments later, the vessel exploded, sending flaming debris raining down into the sea.
The aftermath was eerily quiet, the only sounds the lapping of waves and the heavy breathing of the crew. Adam lowered the musket, sweat dripping down his face as he turned to find the crew staring at him.
And not in a friendly way.
Every man had a weapon pointed at him, their expressions wary and accusatory. The captain stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his cutlass.
"Who the hell are you?"he demanded.
Adam dropped his weapons raising his hands slowly, a nervous smile creeping across his face. "I can explain."
The crew didn't lower their weapons, and Adam sighed."Look, I needed to get to Piltover. I was going to talk to you back at the settlement make some kind of deal, but I fell asleep and missed my chance. So I snuck on board. But, hey, I just saved all your asses, so maybe we can call it even?"
The captain's eyes narrowed."You stowed away on my ship and think saving us wipes the slate clean?"
Adam hesitated, then nodded."Pretty much."
The captain let out a gruff laugh, shaking his head. "You've got guts, boy. Fine. You can stay on board—but you're going to work for your keep. We lost men today, and I won't have dead weight taking up space."
Adam nodded eagerly."Deal."
The captain's expression hardened. "Good. First job—clean out whatever disgusting corner you've been hiding in. I want it spotless."
Adam winced. "Yeah… about that. It might be worse than you think."He didn't really have a place to use the bathroom so he just went at it in the corner of where he was hiding.
The captain raised an eyebrow, and Adam decided it was better not to elaborate.
The next two days were grueling. Adam scrubbed every inch of his hiding spot, grimacing at the stench he'd been stewing in for days. He hauled supplies, repaired torn rigging, and even helped cook meals—though the crew quickly banned him from the kitchen after his first attempt.
The ship was beating Piltovers waters only a day away from the so called city of progress