Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

It was at that time that Elder Zijin sat opposite the Chief, accepting the fried dough snacks and fruit wine. These snacks had never tasted better, and the wine, never so rich. The Orcish Elder sighed, placing down his cup, his eyes meeting the Chief’s.

“I am glad it was not squandered,” Zijin said.

Iromin smiled. He had never felt so good after being proven so right. Perhaps it was his greatest victory as Chief, and would define his entire tenure as a Great Elder within the Iyr.

Not long ago, the Great Elders had been so awfully unruly during the conversation about Adam, as they always were. Elder Wrath and Elder Teacher had revealed their doubts, but did not push as hard as Elder Forest or Elder Peace, who were far more suspicious about Adam. Iromin had remained silent, along with Elder Gold.

“It is my family’s name which will go down in the books for this story,” Iromin said to the Great Elders during their meeting. “Chief Iromin, who had made the most grave mistake of destroying a great boon for the Iyr, on behest of the wise counsel of his Great Elders. Though Baktu had graced the Iyr with a Half Elf by the name of Adam, who had been adopted into the Rot family, who had awoken the first Scribe Mage, who had the ability of a Chaos Enchanter, who had the ability to create Legendary weapons for the Iyr, which could be completed by even novice Enchanters, the Iyr still squandered his grace. Truly, a shame on their families, a shame on their name.”

“You are going too far, Chief,” Elder Peace said.

“In a time like this, when a Year of Silence will befall us, you would choose to weaken the Iyr,” the Chief began, before his lips formed a sneer. “If anyone else would hear, they would think you were an Aldishman.”

The Chief had only dared to say such a thing to Elder Peace because she had the greatest patience of any Iyrman, save perhaps Elder Story. She rubbed the beads within her hand, the same beads she had inherited, rubbing along the white bead which was one of two beads shaped as a cube.

“I will not have my name sullied by such foolishness,” Iromin said. “The matter of Adam, and his life and death, will be a matter shared between myself and Elder Story, alone. The matter of Adam, and his children, is no matter for the Great Elders, who have been blinded by shamelessness. To lose the ability of a Half Elf who could create Legendary weapons. He, who holds Baktu’s favour? I will not allow it. Not while I am Chief.”

The Chief had only raged once before like this, and it was recently too. It was the matter of Adam’s children, but thanks to both Zijin and Jarot, Iromin had fought the Great Elders about the children. After Adam’s reported cowardice, the Great Elders couldn’t help but feel that Adam was showing off, having caught on to their scheming.

Yet, there was someone else who had been brought to the Great Elders towards the end of the meeting. The young boy stared nervously at the Great Elders, but Iromin held out his hand towards Asoyah, who took the old man’s hand in his own.

“What do you think of Adam?” Iromin asked.

“Adam is very cool,” Asoyah said, a shy smirk on his face.

‘Very cool?’

Iromin picked the boy up, kissed his forehead, where his tattoo would be placed when he would become a man, and let him go. The young boy quickly rushed away, going off to spend time with the Guests of the Iyr, as had been promised to him.

“Would you deny the words of little Asoyah?” Iromin asked.

The Great Elders sighed. Asoyah had been used to keep an eye on Adam, something Iromin had planted to show his sincerity to the Great Chiefs. Since the boy had come and vouched for Adam, it was obvious what Iromin would declare from it.

Iromin’s threats silenced the matter, which had been entrusted exclusively to him, with unanimous approval from the other Great Elders.

Zijin smiled as he stared at the sky above them. He had no idea what had been said during the meeting, for only the Great Elders and Strom knew what was said, but Iromin had declared the matter over.

“Now I can focus on the Year of Silence,” Zijin said, sighing as the stressed piled on his shoulders.

Iromin bowed his head. Adam was important to deal with, that much was true, but there were greater threats on the horizon. With the breaking of Aswadia, and what was happening in Aldland, the Iyr would have lots of work to do, especially with the Year of Silence soon to come.

“Seriously,” Adam asked, staring at the dying old man. “What did I do this time?”

The thought remained within Adam’s mind as he enchanted for the next few days. Strom refused to elaborate on what he meant, but it did seem that he knew something.

The days continued to pass, with Adam either enchanting or taking a break to spend time with his family, watching as his children grew. Jirot and Jarot were able to get on all fours and look up, while the other children were still unable to hold up their heads.

Snow fell around the Iyr, and the children were soon adorned in thick clothing. It was not any clothing, however, for it had begun.

“Who are these cute little babbies?” Adam asked, looking down at Jirot and Jarot, who were smiling up towards their father, cooing and babbling eagerly.

Konarot, Kirot, and Karot were also adorned in the thick clothing of the Iyrmen, with the symbol of the Rot family within their sleeves, as well as their collars.

“Papa,” Lanarot called, reaching up for her brother. The Iyrman lifting her up. “Papa.” The girl smiled and hugged him tight, pressing her cheek against his.

“You will smudge your tattoo,” Jurot said, though he rubbed his cheek against hers.

“Hmm,” Jarot groaned quietly, glancing between the twins. “Adam. You must hold them and walk with me today.”

Adam opened his mouth to complain but stopped. There was nothing to complain about. He strapped the contraption made of leather to his chest and slipped the children within. It was a smaller contraption compared to what he was used to, but he didn’t ask how the Iyr had one which was perfect for the twin’s size.

His twins looked up at him, squealing happily at him, cooing and babbling. They tossed up their arms and shook excitedly.

“My children are too cute,” Adam whispered, wrapping his arms around them, peppering them with kisses.

“Konarot, come,” Jarot called. He ruffled the girl’s hair. “Little Taygak will look after you. I will be with your father today.”

The girl pouted, but she hugged Jarot, and then her father. Her siblings did the same, before they retreated to the eldest child of the children within the shared family estate. Taygak hugged each of the Half Dragons, before checking to see if they had their drinks at their side, and the led them out to explore the festival.

“Should we paint their heads?” Adam asked, rubbing their dangling feet gently, causing them to kick out their legs.

“They are too young,” Jarot said. “It may irritate their skin.”

“Good point…”

Jarot led his grandson and greatchildren through the festival, greeting familiar faces, before introducing his greatchildren to them. The older Iyrmen each smiled and greeted the babies, cooing over them and how cute they were.

“They will grow big and strong,” they all had said without fail, causing Adam to frown, and Jarot to refute their statement.

“How you have grown,” Gangak said, reaching out a hand to rub their heads gently. “Look at how you smile. Is Jarot treating you well, or would you like nano to deal with him?”

“Deal with me?” Jarot asked, raising his brow at the Gak Family Elder. “Even if I have retired, I would not lose to you.”

“If it is for their sake, you would,” the elderly Iyrman replied.

Adam noted she did not smell like a smoker any longer. “If it’s for their sake, I’ll beat up their babo.”

“Would you like revenge?” Jarot asked.

“You’re lucky they like you, old geezer, that’s the only reason you haven’t lost to me yet,” Adam stated.

“You are too young to face me yet,” Jarot said.

They continued exploring through the festival, with Jarot stopping them to grab some food, before they sat down within a shared family estate and Jarot began to feed the babies some baby food.

“Look at how well you both eat,” the old Iyrman said, his eyes beaming brightly down towards them. “You do not need to rush eating, little Jirot, no one will steal your food from you.” He cleaned up their faces once they were done. He held the babies one by one, alternating between them every so often, each of them enjoying the time they spent passing between their father and greatfather.

“Jarot,” came a familiar voice. Adam looked back to see Sarot. “We must speak.”

Jarot stared at his younger brother, his eyes filled with a great fury, though they softened as baby Jarot reached up for his face. “We will speak later.”

Sarot sighed, before looking down to Adam, who sat opposite his brother. “Adam, it is-,”

“We will speak later,” Jarot repeated, cutting his brother off.

Sarot remained quiet, but bowed his head, retreating away.

‘Why is it all so awkward?’ Adam cried within his heart.

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Damn.