Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Kitool held Tigerstaff in hand, pointing it towards her opponent. She sized him up, wondering if she could truly beat him. Even with Tigerstaff in hand, she didn’t like her odds. 

Timojin inhaled deeply, before drawing his greatsword, pointing with it towards the sky, before slowly dropping his arms into position, warming up his muscles for the fight. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Kitool replied, the words holding deeper meanings only understood by the pair. 

Once more, the arena was silent, waiting for the pair to begin. They had only just watched a younger version of the fight, but these two were so different. 

The last time Kitool had faced an Iyrman, it had been the Devilkin Iyrman with the chain mail. She had managed to defeat such a great foe with her staff and fists, but this was no normal Iyrman. 

Timojin had been called the Grey Wall, partly due to the colour of his greenish grey skin, and partly because he refused to drop. He had yet to be even taken down by anyone within the tournament, and though he had yet to face anyone at the same calibre as Jurot and Amokan, he had still faced some great foes.

It was a match between fists of steel and skin of steel.

A bead of sweat fell down Kitool’s cheek. 

The normally quiet Timojin began to flex his muscles as his body turned red with rage, but his body fell still, his blade frozen still. Kitool’s Tigerstaff was pressed against Timojin’s chest, her body having burst forward to strike him. 

Timojin wasn’t only Amokan’s rival because he was strong. Amokan and Timojin were both of equal strength, even stronger than Jurot. They were both equally as tough as Jurot too, though Jurot’s family’s abilities allowed him to go against foes with different powers greater than either of them. Jurot was nimbler than Amokan, but Timojin?

Timojin was as tough as Amokan and Jurot. 

Timojin was as strong as Amokan.

Timojin was as nimble as Jurot.

Timojin was the greatest of them all. 

Kitool’s entire body was flush with heat, telling her to act as quickly as she could, before he could manage to break free. She struck him with a great flurry of blows with her staff, the magical staff gifted to her by Adam. One blow had struck his chest, but she forced as many blows as she could, landing as many as possibly as she could, before digging the staff into the earth to kick Timojin up into the air.

Timojin’s body, which was frozen from Kitool’s most terrifying ability, almost slumped as he dropped, the great assault upon his body leaving large bruises even on his skin. Kitool had did all she could to the Iyrman, and had managed to deal as much damage as she could before he could fall into his rage. Thankfully, her damage, not minimised by his rage, had managed to rock through the entire Iyrman’s body, and she had knocked him unconscious.

Still, Kitool leapt into the air, with her staff in hand as she tried to attack the unconscious Timojin.

For Timojin was not like Amokan, nor was he like Jurot, who had faced Timojin before. Jurot had faced both Amokan and Timojin simultaneously, and though he had managed to defeat Amokan, Timojin was another beast entirely. 

Timojin, an Iyrman like any other, was still, as the Aldishmen might call him, if they were particularly polite, a Horcish Iyrman.

As Tigerstaff fell down, threatening to crack Timojin’s skull, the Iyrman’s entire body turned hot red with rage, and his magical blade hummed to life as he spun. Kitool barely managed to block the blow, which had used the momentum she had gifted to him by kicking up him, causing Tigerstaff to almost bend as Kitool skid to the side. 

A shadow formed over Kitool, a shadow by the name of Timojin, as she barely managed to catch Timojin’s blade with Tigerstaff. Her entire body screamed in pain as she blocked the blow, the blade slowly forcing her to the ground. She was almost forced to kneel, but instead of fighting against the blade, Kitool spun, allowing the blade to scrape off across Tigerstaff’s side, before her heel met Timojin’s skull. She pivoted on her foot and managed to right herself, letting out a quick sigh as Timojin fell before her. 

‘Right,’ Adam thought. ‘She can do that.’

Adam wasn’t able to hear any more of his thoughts as the crowd’s raucous shouts and applause filled the arena, the vibrations even shaking the wooden stands. 

Kitool’s heart pounded wildly within her chest, but as she held her staff tightly in both hands in front of her, she inhaled and exhaled deeply. 

Timojin jerked awake from the healing touch of a Guardian, instantly falling into a rage as he willed his body upwards. 

“Timojin,” Kitool called, stopping the Iyrman from trying to swing at the Guardian nearby. 

Timojin stood, catching his breath, before turning to face Kitool. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

The pair left to the walls, and then up to the group, which were waiting for them. Adam had furrowed his brows together, doing his best to keep his face neutral.

“Do you need the bathroom?” Jaygak whispered.

“No,” Adam replied, clearing his throat. ‘When was Kitool so damn strong?’ 

“Did you bet?” Kitool asked. 

“No.”

Kitool sat down. “Then you have gained coin.”

“Did you think I’d bet against you?”

“Yes.”

“You could have put a crossbow to my head and I wouldn’t bet against you,” Adam stated firmly. The guilt struck Adam’s heart for even thinking Kitool would lose. ‘I shouldn’t be so taken by my emotions about that sort of thing, right?’

“Did you bet?” Kitool asked, looking to Jaygak.

“No.”

“Then you have lost coin.”

Jaygak grabbed Kitool’s shoulders and pulled her in closer. “I’m still stronger than you, Kitool.”

“It was a good fight,” Jurot said.

“A good fight,” Amokan confirmed. 

Ilyakan held out her hand, offering to heal her companion. Timojin snorted in response, taking his seat beside Amokan, refusing the heal. His entire body still hurt, and the bruises against his body swelled. Though they pulsed, they were still the proof of an Iyrman’s effort.

“What a great fight it was!” Adam confirmed, his voice stilted. “Let’s drink!” Before Adam could pay for the drinks, a set of drinks were placed down in front of Kitool and Timojin. 

“From the one known as Rose,” the server said, before a familiar face popped up nearby. 

“Rose?” Adam called, glancing across the party. “Ah. What are you guys doing here?”

“We’ve been watching the fights,” Rose replied, taking a seat nearby, while her companions gathered around her. 

“You didn’t join?”

Rose sighed, rubbing her forehead. “No.”

“Why not?”

“This tournament wasn’t ours,” she replied, simply. She had seen the way all the warriors fought. “The Aldish and Iyrmen certainly live up to their reputation.” She always considered herself decent in her order, certainly no match for the greater members. ‘To think our best are matched by so many within the land beside us.’

“Have you been betting properly?” Adam asked.

“We have. We’ve bet on you, Jurot, Kitool, and Jaygak.”

“Amokan and Timojin are some of ours too,” Adam said. “They declined adventuring with me. I can’t blame them, I would have shown them up.”

“You knew?” Amokan asked, leaning in towards him.

“It was just a joke…”

The Iyrman smiled, throwing a wink Adam’s way. 

“I thought you guys didn’t joke?”

“We have our jokes.”

“Aren’t jokes, just lies?”

“Some are, some are not,” Amokan said. “Have you heard the joke of the Aldishman and the Iyrman?”

“It’s the only joke I know.” 

“What is the joke?” Rose asked. 

Timojin placed down the first mug of ale, before picking the next up. He raised it to Kitool, who was still making her way through the first mug. 

“He’s no knight!” Amokan said.

“He’s an Iyrman!” Adam finished the punch line of the joke.

“Ah,” Rose said, nodding her head. Considering the set up, it certainly made sense. She smiled slightly, before exchanging a look with her companions, who smiled slightly. 

“Let’s get wasted!” Adam spent more coin from the party fund.

When night fell, the group returned back to the guild to sleep. Kitool stared at the ceiling above. She thought back to facing Jaygak, how she had managed to stun the young woman before beating her unconscious, and doing the same to Timojin. It was her greatest ability, but there was no doubt that Tigerstaff allowed her to defeat her opponents with greater ease. 

Amokan exchanged a cup of wine with Timojin, having barged into his best friend’s room to share more drinks. “You need not worry,” he began, smirking slightly as he brought the cup to his lips, “I will win on your behalf.”

“You will have to face her too,” Timojin replied simply, sipping the fruit wine. 

“No, she will have to face me.”

“Do not forget, there is still Jurot,” Timojin said. “Last time you needed me.”

“Last time he had learned his family’s way,” Amokan said. “This time, he will have to face me when I have learnt my family’s way.”

Timojin thought about Amokan’s grandmother. Even though she had held back, the fact she had lost against Adam was still shocking. “This tournament was not for our Jin family to win.”

“I would not have thought Faool could have beaten Uwajin.”

“Jurot picked up a strong warrior.”

“My cousin will be fighting in the top four,” Amokan said, pouring Timojin more wine. 

“Bavin will be fighting.”

Amokan nodded, thinking about the teens, and how they must be feeling. Amokan thought about how he had beaten one of the favourites to win, and how Adam had managed to beat two of them. ‘This is how the crowd must have felt.’ 

“Naqokan, Bavin, Nobby, Faool.”

“Amokan, Jurot, Kitool, Gordan,” Amokan said, feeling his heart sink slightly. “If we had more luck, it would have been your name.”

“Roseia, Kanna, Vasera, Adam,” Timojin continued.

Amokan thought Adam’s segment. Their own may have been stacked, but Adam was going against the likes of those three? The future King’s Sword, her companion who rivalled her, and of course, that Vasera of the Golden Savages. 

They thought about the other great names in the other ranges. 

“Stone Sword,” Amokan said.

“Raging Bull.”

“The Hawk.”

“Moon Dancer.”

“Rising Sun Blade,” the pair said, together. 

There were others too, those long retired, but these were the names which would take the world for the next generation.

“This tournament will go down in history,” Amokan stated.

Timojin’s mind wandered to something else. “I would like to see the fight between the brothers.”

Amokan’s smile widened, but he said nothing.

Kitool is so scary.