Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Omen: 15, 17

“We should continue our journey,” Jurot said. “There will be fewer skeletons now, so the villagers will do well by themselves.”

“Jurot, I can’t believe you’d betray me like this twice,” Adam said. “First the promise, and now this?”

Jurot stared at Adam. “How did I betray you?”

“You said fewer.”

“Yes?”

Adam looked away. “I’m going to tell Lanarot you keep bullying me.”

Jurot continued to stare at Adam, wondering if he was joking.

The group gathered together, and Adam wondered if he could take some bones. “How much will it cost for these bones?”

“You would buy the bones?” Jurot asked, surprised.

“Sure, why not?”

“They are the bones of the villager’s dead.”

“I thought that…” Adam stopped to think. ‘Hold on.’ “Right. Most of the skeletons this time were humanoid, but last time they were animals.”

“It was a Great Twilight,” Jurot explained.

“Oh,” Adam said, nodding his head. He didn’t know what a Great Twilight really was, but he was slowly forming an idea in his head.

The group then said their goodbyes to the Iyrmen and the Chief.

“Aren’t we meant to pay you a gold?” Adam asked.

“Why are you mentioning such a thing now?” Merl laughed, before grabbing his forearms. “Have a safe journey, mister Half Elf.”

“Please, it’s Adam, Chief.”

Merl smiled, squeezing his forearm. “We will accept your coin once you return safely from your journeys.”

“Alright.” Adam nodded, a smile plastered across his face.

They waved their goodbyes to the villagers, who waved at them as they left.

“Helping people really does fill the soul, doesn’t it?” Adam said, stepping proudly as they made their way.

‘You didn’t even fight,’ Brittany thought, but she didn’t dare to say that. ‘I guess you did use some Fireballs to help, and you fought that giant bone snake…’

It was early evening when they came across the village, watching as the villagers moved the bones to the side.

“Hmm?” Adam said, looking to the familiar sight of an Iyrman. No, not an Iyrman. “What are you doing here?”

“Why can I not be here?” Ashmir asked.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Adam said, reaching for his forearm. “I just meant, aren’t you meant to be in the Iyr to have a bunch of children?”

“Even in this age I am still virile,” Ashmir said.

Adam suddenly regretted making the joke. “Right.” He noticed a handful of other Iyrmen, including a teen whose tattoo seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Beside him was another young teen, about his age, who looked similar, with the same tattoo on her forehead.

They carried with them an axe too, so Adam nodded his head towards them, feeling some sense of kinship from their mutual weapons. The young teen narrowed her eyes at the Half Elf, and dragged the boy away with her.

‘It’s not surprising any more,’ Adam thought.

Adam handed the Chief a gem and a gold piece, and though they tried to refuse, Adam smiled at them innocently, and refused to take the gold back.

“Did you come here to help in order to stretch your muscles?” Adam asked Ashmir.

“Yes. I was becoming uncomfortable in the Iyr, resting all that time.”

“Yeah, I get that. I miss my little sister, but I can’t be useless. I need to go out and help people, and make money to shower her in gifts.”

“Are you always thinking of your sister?” Ashmir asked.

“Not all the time,” Adam said. “An appropriate amount of time, which is most of the time. I can’t think when I sleep.”

Ashmir just sighed. “Your brother is quite special,” he said to Jurot.

“Yes.”

“Stop bullying me,” Adam grumbled.

They spent the evening in the village, partaking in the village festivities.

Omen: 2, 9

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked.

It was late evening, the group having travelled without much issue towards the next village.

“Why can’t I be here?” Strom asked.

“Aren’t you meant to be enjoying yourself in the Iyr?”

“I wanted to have some fun fighting these Undead,” Strom replied, simply.

“You need to look after your health!” Adam wagged his finger at Strom, nannying the old man.

“I’m not that old,” Strom replied.

“Then you’re young enough for a good beating,” Adam warned, before patting the old man’s back gently.

Insight Check

D20 + 1 = 18 (17)

He went off to get Strom some soup, noting how Strom had become thinner than before.

“How embarrassing,” Strom said, looking to Jurot and the others. There were no Iyrmen in this village, and the villagers remained quite some ways away from Strom. Their eyes held such a great reverence for him, it was as though they were looking at a God.

Jurot sensed as though he had missed quite a sight, and the other Iyrmen felt it too. They wondered just how strong Strom was, even in his weakened state.

The villagers watched as Adam brought the old man some soup, and sat beside him to chat.

‘He’s talking so casually to that old monster?’

‘Shouldn’t we stop him?’

‘You think he’s controlling that old man?’

‘How can he do something like that?’

‘He’s an Elf.’

‘He is an Elf…’

The villagers wondered if Adam knew what Strom was truly like. Right now, Strom seemed to be just a docile old man, but they had seen him when the Undead had come. Most of the bones had been burnt, and barely a handful of them had managed to engage the Undead.

“Excuse me,” a villager said, once Adam was out of sight, and what they thought to be, out of earshot. She was a young woman, in her mid twenties or so.

“Yes?”

“That old man, is he an Iyrman?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I thought, because of the tattoo.”

Adam shrugged. “I know he’s a friend of one of the Great Elders, and that he’s pretty powerful.”

“Are there even Iyrmen who are more powerful than him?”

Adam thought deeply. “Probably.”

Jurot was going to speak up, since it wasn’t good for Iyrmen to lie, but Adam wasn’t an Iyrman, and Jurot wasn’t sure if he was lying. Strom had given up his Spark, so though he may still be powerful, it may be true that some Iyrmen may be more powerful than him now.

“How strong do you think Strom is?” Adam asked over their evening meal, and only after Strom had excused himself to drink on a rooftop.

“Strong,” Jurot said, with a level of gravitas.

Adam sipped his soup, looking up at the old man. “Yeah.”

Nobby thought. He thought lightly, not wanting to strain his mind. He was strong. Adam was stronger. The Iyrmen were stronger than stronger. Then there was Strom, who may have been stronger than stronger than stronger.

Brittany, too, thought about this matter. Her sense of scale was also skewed, as she had only known Adam, and had seen his rapid growth, but hadn’t gained a sense of how rapid it truly was. However, she had known Adam for quite some time, but she wasn’t strong yet.

‘Is he keeping me weak on purpose?’ Brittany thought. There were times when she thought Adam had made passes at her, wanting her for her body. However, after seeing how much time he spent with his sister, she realised he didn’t think about those sorts of things.

Was she still weak? Compared to before, she certainly had grown stronger. She could find the weak points on her enemies easier, and she could also use a variety of weapons. Her steps were much softer now, too.

It still hadn’t been a year, but she was hoping they’d explore the land further. ‘Patience.’ It was what Jonn and Kitool would always tell her, but she still wished for more.

“Vonda,” Adam called. “We’ll spend a few days here and then…”

The pair shared a look between one another, and both nodded.

Strom wondered what it was, but he decided not to get involved. They’d come back and tell him the story some time later that year. If they didn’t it wouldn’t matter since he’d be dead.

Adam and the group spent a few days in the village, stocking up on supplies, and assisting them in repairing the village. Strom relaxed on the rooftop, keeping an ear out for anything which could bother them.

Adam made sure that Strom was eating properly, though he didn’t seem too interested.

“You said you had some unfinished business, right? You’re probably wanting to beat someone up, so you need your strength for it!”

“I do not need to eat, Adam,” Strom said. Using his powers accelerated the degeneration, but there was little issue with not eating. “I’m drinking, and that’s good enough.”

“Good enough? Do you know how embarrassed I’ll be if you lose? What will I tell my lovely sister? That the old man who I thought was strong didn’t eat and then got his ass handed to him?” Adam pushed some bread up to Strom’s face.

Strom refused to eat it.

“Fine. You’ve left me no choice.” Adam inhaled deeply, turning his head. He stared at Lucy, and nodded at her.

Strom swiped the bread from Adam’s hand. “Give it here. I’m not so old that I need you to feed me.” The look in Lucy’s eye had caused him to move.

‘Damn it!’ Lucy cried.

Click banner for Patreon!

Lucy the real MVP.

MY BAD SORRY.