Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“So Jurot came first, Kitool came second, and I came third,” Adam stated, finally. “Also, you know, everyone else who did well.”

The tale had taken Adam a short while, though the others had yet to return to the extended family estate even by the time he was done. 

“That’s right, Inakan, even your big brother did so good,” Adam said, right next to her ear. “He and I did just as good, so make sure you’re proud of us, okay?”

Inakan looked back up towards Adam with her narrowed eyes, though her lips formed an innocent smile, in the same way that Jirot’s lips formed an innocent smile before she would do something not quite so innocent. 

“Inakan, please, mercy,” Adam said, holding her closer to his chest, gently brushing her hair. 

The little girl returned back to playing with her block, rubbing it against her cheek, deciding to show mercy to the one who had spoken his tale.

“Of course my grandsons did so well,” Jarot said, his lips a wide smirk, fighting off the heaviness within his face. “First and third, it should be at least that much!” He roared with laughter, causing Gurot to jolt and look back at his grandfather. He looked back towards Adam in shock, before his lips began to tremble, and he let out a screeching cry.

“How can you do this to my Gurot?” Adam asked, placing Inakan down, before going to steal Gurot from the old man. Jarot let the boy go, who was still crying and screeching, but quickly began to calm as Adam held rocked the boy gently within his arms. “How can he do this? I know, I know. Don’t worry, Gurot, when you’re big, I’ll give you Phantom and you can teach him a lesson.” Adam placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead. 

“Your Gurot? He is my Gurot!”

“He’s my Cousin!”

“Your cousin,” Jarot corrected, “but my grandson.”

“Your grandson?” Adam asked, rubbing the back of Gurot’s head. “As if he’s your…” Adam suddenly felt hot with embarrassment and shame once more. “Just because he’s your grandson, it doesn’t mean you can bully him.”

“I can bully him because he is my grandson.”

“…” ‘Damn it, the old man’s right!’ Adam held onto Gurot tightly. “Don’t worry, Gurot, Cousin Adam will protect you.”

Gangak held onto her granddaughters, cuddling them close. “Do not worry, Jaygak did well. It is good to know when to step forward, but it is more important to know when to step back.” Gangak could only think about how Jaygak felt about stepping back from her first tournament. It was true she was unprepared, she should have been given plate mail at least, but to do so well, undefeated by the time she took a step back, the young Iyrman could take pride in that.

‘Third place?’ Otkan thought. ‘My Shikan?’ Her grandson aimed to become the Chief, and so of course he would have placed well, the top ten if not the top four, but… for him to lose against Kitool? Shikan, Timojin, Jurot, these were each golden children. Kitool was a golden child too, but her sights were set so much lower than any of theirs. Kitool was also a golden child, but it would have been difficult for her to defeat Shikan so easily.

No. The common thread between everything was obvious. Shikan, though possessing a decent magical item, didn’t possess anything similar to the likes of Tigerstaff. Tigerstaff was a weapon which was perhaps the greatest in its league, and could match the likes of Phantom and Wraith in its own way. For Kitool, there was perhaps no greater weapon to wield. 

Then, of course, there was the fact that Shaool, one of the top ten strongest Iyrmen, was also the young woman’s grandaunt. It only made sense for Kitool to place well, and manage to beat almost everyone, save for Jurot, who she had held back against. She, who had chosen to step back when facing Jurot, though had almost won an even greater victory to share with her family.

“Don’t worry,” Adam said, smiling widely, an innocent smile, the kind which Inakan had revealed not long ago. “Next time, Jaygak’s going to place at least in the top four, if not first.”

“It is only right,” Jarot said, nodding his head. “You cannot forget those by your side, and the sacrifices they make for you.”

Adam could hear the guilt within Jarot’s voice, and though back to how two of his closest companions had died for his vengeance. “I won’t. I won’t forget anything the Iyr has done for me, neither.”

“If you say so, it must be true,” Jarot said, smiling slightly, though the heaviness had returned. “You will not continue the tale?”

“The next part should come from an Iyrman’s lips, since it’s unbelievable,” Adam retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

“My grandson would never lie to me,” Jarot stated.

“That’s why he’ll be the one to tell the story.”

“Will you refuse my affections even now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Adam replied, his voice light, while he picked Gurot up. “Gurot, are you going to tell the story?”

Gurot, who had been suckling his thumb, smiled down at the Half Elf, before he reached down for more hugs. Adam gave into the boy, hugging him tight. Gurot clutched at his shirt and continued to suckle on his thumb, resting his cheek against Adam’s chest. 

“It’s not fair that my Gurot is so cute,” Adam said, with great affection.

“Your Gurot?” Jarot asked.

“My Gurot.”

“You are so distant with me, but you claim my grandson as yours?” Jarot growled quietly.

“That’s because Chief Iromin wrote me a letter that said I can do this,” Adam said, brushing the boy’s hair. “Since Aunt Sonarot and Aunt Mirot get to dote on my children, and cuddle and kiss them, then it’s only fair I can do the same to Gurot, right? I can do the same to Murot too!” Adam grinned wide, the same grin only found on villains. 

‘Murot?’ Jarot thought, having yet to be informed of the new children. ‘A new grandchild?’

“Speaking of which, you know the hydra we killed? I fashioned some of the scales into a tunic and gifted it to Asorot.”

‘Asorot?’ Jarot thought, realising who Adam was talking about. ‘He gave up his grandson to me?’ Jarot had wondered why Aso had been handed to his family by that man, but to think it was to integrate the boy into the Rot family? The few times they had spoken, the boy had mentioned his mother and father, and yet he was to be handed to their family? 

The old Iyrman shared glances between Otkan and Gangak, before his eyes fell back to Adam. ‘It will be fine, since it is Adam.’

“You have returned,” Jurot called, bringing with him the twins in his arms, with Jirot blabbering about one thing or another, before laughing at her jokes, her brother doing the same near instantly.

“I have,” Jarot said, straightening up slightly. He met Jurot’s eyes only for a moment, before they trailed down towards the little twins. “Who are these two babies? Such a big boy and girl.”

Jirot and Jarot eventually noticed the older Iyrman, noting the tattoo on his forehead, and then the gentle smile on his face. Jirot smiled shyly towards him, while Jarot stared at the older man, his brain trying to recognise who he was, but he only recognised the family tattoo.

“Jirot, Jarot,” Jurot replied, as though their names needed to be stated.

Jirot then spotted her father, and she pointed up at him. “Daddy!” She then howled with laughter at her joke, and a short moment later, Jarot also called for his father and laughed. 

“What are you little cuties laughing about?” Adam asked, still holding Gurot in one arm, but he approached his youngest children and brushed their hair. Their hair held a single streak of colour, and they both wore a braid, with blue string tying it together.  “Did you have fun at the festival?”

“Noooo!” Jirot cackled, before looking up to Jurot, wanting to see how he’d react. Jurot remained silent, looking towards Gurot, who was staring up at the larger Iyrman, smiling shyly. 

“Do you see how she bullies me?”

“Gangak, do you see? Otkan, do you see? They have grown up so much!” Jarot said, reaching up to cover his face. “How can they do such things to me?”

“You should speak of the tale,” Gangak said, offering Jarot the right. 

“No,” Jarot said, wiping away the tears which had fallen. “I have heard there is a tale I must hear from my grandson. Jurot, I have heard the tale from Adam, but I must hear the rest of the tale from you.”

Jurot threw a look towards Adam. “You have spoken of the tournament?”

“Yeah.”

The Iyrman nodded, understanding why Adam left the rest to him, and he placed down the twins. Adam placed down Gurot, who went to hug his Iyrman cousin’s leg, while Adam lifted up his twins and kissed them repeatedly. The pair squirmed and giggled. 

Adam looked towards Jarot with a satisfied look, and the old man smiled, glad that Adam was still willing to tease him like this.

‘Should I beat him?’ Jarot thought.

“You two, look,” Adam said, motioning towards the older man. “It’s your babo.”

“Bababoo?” Jirot asked.

“Bah. Boh. Babo.”

“Babo,” Jirot said. 

“That’s right, babo. It’s your nana’s dada.”

Jirot blinked, looking to Jarot, who blinked and looked towards her. 

“Babo, he is babo, okay? You have to love him… after daddy, but not before daddy, okay?” Adam kissed their foreheads. “Jarot, do you know what babo’s name is?”

“Nay?” Jarot asked.

“Yes, do you know?”

“Jawoh.”

“Wow! That’s right! His name is Jarot too!” Adam peppered the boy in kisses, who had only said his own name. Little Jarot didn’t quite understand, but he smiled from his father’s affections. 

“Me!” Jirot commanded, also wanting her father to kiss her. 

The older Jarot stared at the twins, before his eyes met Otkan’s. He sighed, smiling slightly, and relenting to the fact that he owed her. He was glad that she had convinced him to return so that he could see the pair, who were so grown up now, though the price still ate at his gut. He resisted the urge to embrace them himself, waiting for his turn to come.

‘Goblins?’ Wazool, the young boy with the sun kissed hair and blue eyes, which betrayed his heritage, thought. He had been adopted into the Ool family, thanks to Jurot and Kitool, and though he thought they were a savage lot, this was something else entirely. He stared at the Goblins, and then to the rest of the Iyrmen, who seemed to think this was completely normal. ‘By the Divine!’

Oh no.