Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Papa, you must fight well,” Lanarot said, holding up the axe within her hands.

“I will,” Jurot said, taking Phantom from her hands, feeling its familiar magic run through his fingers.

“Papa, you must fight well,” Lanarot repeated, this time to Adam, while holding the crimson shield with her mother’s support.

“Of course I will!” Adam’s heart almost melted.

“You must take Wraith too!” Lanarot said, holding her finger up threateningly. “If you do not, I will hug you.”

“You will not hug him,” Sonarot said.

Lanarot pouted. “Huh? No, I hug papa, of course, mama!”

“Mother,” Sonarot corrected now the girl was old enough. “If you hug him, he will not take Wraith.”

“Is okay, you have shield, because you are my papa,” Lanarot stared up at her brother with her glistening eyes, her lips forming a small smile.

“Of course! I don’t need Wraith when I have the shield, isn’t that right?” Adam lifted Lanarot up, holding the girl’s head to his chest, nuzzling into her hair. “Don’t worry, papa will beat up lots of big strong things, even without Wraith!”

“Yes! Fighting!” The girl threw up a fist.

Jirot frowned, glancing up to her mother, but she crossed her hands behind her back. ‘Daddy is telling babo to come back. I forgive you, just this once.’

Once Adam had peppered his children with as many kisses as he could, he embraced his wife, rubbing his cheek against hers. “I won’t kill anyone.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to bring back anything?”

“Just come home safely.”

“I will.” Adam hugged her, feeling her warmth spread through him. He reached down to her stomach slyly, rubbing it gently, causing Vonda to flush red. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t use any Omens, so just grow up safely.’

Jurot stared down at Damrot, his eyes curious as they stared up at his father. “I will return soon.”

Adam planted a gently kiss on Virot’s head. “If you grow up too quickly, I won’t forgive you. You and I both know that I’ll forgive you anyway, since you’re so cute, but I won’t forgive you, do you understand?”

Virot blinked at her father, daring him to not forgive her.

“What would you like?” Lucy asked.

“Bring back babo!” Jirot said, clasping Lucy’s hands in her own. “I will bully daddy.”

“Deal!” Lucy grinned wide, causing the girl to cackle.

“Kako?” Jarot called.

“Yeah?” Lucy replied, unsure if she could accept the title.

“Come back safely, okay?”

“I will.” Lucy tossed the boy up.

‘Why are they acting like this is the last time they’ll see each other?’ Mork thought, sipping his waterskin, glancing down at it as though it had betrayed him. ‘Right. Got to keep it full of water, for now.’

“I can’t believe we’re going without the funny one or the strong one,” Lucy said, checking on the carriages the Iyr had gifted the business.

“I’m funny, and Jurot’s strong,” Adam replied.

“I guess Jurot is strong.”

“…”

“…”

“Who were the other two?” Mork asked.

“Jaygak and Kitool.”

“Executive Jaygak? The one who placed second?”

“That’s right.”

“Kitool…” Mork narrowed his eyes, certain the name was familiar. Why was it so familiar?

“The one who placed first in the higher age segment?” Tork asked.

“That’s right.”

Mork exchanged a look with Tork, before sipping his waterskin again. ‘I need a drink.’

The group swiftly made their way out. Jurot and Adam sat upon the driver’s seat of the first carriage, the carriage filled with their supplies. Jane drove the second carriage, though Jurot’s magical steed didn’t need much guidance as it followed the carriage in front, with the demons and Aldish brothers sitting together in the second carriage.

“Adam?” Jurot whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Will you smith Damrot an axe made of the gem?”

“Of course. We can head to Jaghi and grab some jagite, or North Amber, and grab some amberite from there?”

Jurot switched to the Iyr’s tongue. “The gem ore within the Iyr.”

“If I’m allowed to.”

“It is yours to use.”

“What?”

“You brought it back for the business.”

Adam furrowed his brows, reaching up to rub his eyebrow, trying to remember what Jurot was talking about. “Gem ore?”

“It was gifted to you, before Larot came to you,” Jurot said.

“If we have that gem, then yeah, of course I’ll make it for Damrot. We’ve got a few months until his birthday, but I’ll make sure to make it before.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you carve some wooden stuff for my kids? The business, too?”

“Okay.”

“Let’s get some nice wood. Red oak?” Adam frowned instantly. “Ah, never mind. We probably shouldn’t work with Red Oak much after what they did, eh? Now that we’ve untied ourselves, maybe… can’t really work with Deadwood either. Let’s talk with King Merryweather at some point, since we helped out the Lord Marshal.”

“Okay.”

‘I wanted to talk to him last year about the business, didn’t I? I probably should figure something out with him.’ “I bet Ever Green has some amazing wood.”

“It does,” Jurot confirmed, before beginning to speak of the wood, with half of Adam’s attention.

As noon began to crest overhead, Jurot stopped the carriage. “Trikro.”

“What?” Adam asked, following his brother’s sight, along the road.

Perception Check (Wisdom)

D20 + 4 = 24 (20)

Long, serpentine, with scales which were almost black, but which shifted from dark blue to dark green and to dark red. Three heads, each vicious, hungry, with rows of dagger like teeth.

“How many hydras are we going to come across?” Adam asked.

“It is a trikro.”

“A what?”

“It is a wingless dragon with three heads,” Jurot said, swinging his axe, warming his body up. The gentleness of nostalgia filled Jurot’s heart.

Lucy inhaled deeply, stretching out her body as it noticed them, the creature roaring in the distance, rushing towards them. “Adam, you stay back and just watch.”

“Ah, but my dear sister has asked me to fight?”

Lucy frowned, her axe slumping against her shoulder. ‘Damn it.’

“Ah, fine, fine. I’ll cast a quick spell on you and then you can fight it. I’ll just fight the second one that appears, or the third one.”

“It is rare to see more than one,” Jurot said, though as he said that, the last time he had come across one had been when he first met Adam, and he was certain there had been two then.

Adam glanced aside to his spell, realising there were few he could use. “I’ll cast a spell on it when it’s closer, but go ahead and have your fun.”

Mana: 25 -> 24

Spell: Hex

Adam chanted the words to his spell as the trikro charged forward, and the three Rage Dancers went to meet it in battle.

“Aren’t you too relaxed?” Mork asked. “It’s a trikro. I hear they’re only found near Deadwood, and it seems far from home.”

“Bad luck,” Tork agreed.

“Ah, just keep your eye for the second one that’ll come out from our sides,” Adam said, his voice light.

Mork originally took it as a joke, but as Jane drew her blade, he grasped his blade in hand, and slipped on his shield, while Tork grabbed his greataxe. Adam, too, grasped onto Strong Shield.

Victory!

XP Gained: +300

XP: 23 700 -> 24 000

“I really appreciate that you rounded it out for me,” Adam prayed over the creature. “Alright, let’s split it like usual. A third to us, a third to the business, and a third to the village.”

“You’re splitting it with the village?” Mork asked, raising his brow in surprise.

“Yeah.”

“Are you from the North too?”

“No, no, I’m from a land very far away.” Adam waved his hand to dismiss the words. “We should split it with the village, especially since the business caused it some issues.”

‘Issues?’ Mork thought, having the wisdom as a Priest not to ask.

Laughter emanated from the village entrance, as the old one armed, one legged Iyrman howled. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to assist,” Adam said.

The old man greeted both of his grandsons, bringing them both to his chest, before letting them go. “Assist? Am I so old that I need your assistance?”

“You should retire and let us young bloods work,” Adam joked.

“I should retire and spoil my greatchildren,” the old man agreed.

“When you’re still so young?” Adam stated, trying not to let the old man’s words annoy him.

“Mad Dog?” Bork called, curiously, noting the tattoos on the Iyrman’s forehead.

“Hmm?” Jarot glanced down at the pair, his eyes, like those of a predator, sized up the pair. “Northerners?”

“They’re probational members of the business,” Adam explained. “Mork, Priest of Lady Tempest. Bork, warrior. They’re brothers, twins.”

“Twins?” Jarot glared down at the pair of them, one very obviously a human, the other very obvious horcish. Then his eyes fell down to Adam and Jurot, who were brothers born upon the same day. “Did I kill any of your families?”

“Fortunately not,” Mork said, his heart pounding wildly within his chest, staring up at the old crippled Iyrman. Even old as he was, with only one arm and one leg, he could feel the hair on his neck stand on end. ‘He’s really that Mad Dog?’

“You’re never going to guess what we ended up fighting on the way here,” Adam said.

“A trikro,” Jarot said with full confidence.

“How did you guess?”

“We slew one recently, and since you are my grandson, you should at least kill a trikro.”

“Whose grandson?” Adam replied, while the old man howled with laughter again, before he stepped aside to greet his grandaunts.

“Where is Jaygak?” Gangak asked, refusing his handshake to hug him tightly, only letting him go once she got to ruffle his hair.

“She’s in the Iyr, doing some Iyr business,” Adam replied, shrugging his shoulders, sweeping his hair to the side. “Grandaunt Otkan, you should be retired in the Iyr too, spoiling little Inakan.”

Otkan ruffled his hair first, before shaking his forearm. “I must work.”

“I can’t believe the Iyr has you working. Do you want me to-,” Adam quickly stopped, clearing his throat. ‘Seriously, I’ve gotten way too lax.’

“Two trikros?” Gangak let out a soft sigh, already feeling the air of trouble within her old bones.

“Should I pray for another?” Jarot pondered, noting the looks of the nearby villagers, before he howled with laughter again. “Do not worry, I will kill it myself!”

Adam greeted the other Iyrmen, a group of Iyrmen who were slightly older than himself, each at least Experts. Then he spotted the Village Chief. He cleared his throat, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“You should inform Manager Dunes of the danger,” Gangak said.

“Okay.”

Mana: 24 -> 21

Spell: Sending

“Danger. Everything is chaotic. Be careful. Keep everyone within walls. Tell village. Leave Nobby and Fred with them. Jonn’s steed to lookout too.”

“Understood, I will send word.” There was a small pause. “The children are playing well together. Konarot is teaching the others dragonchess.”

Adam crossed his arms behind his back, letting his entire body tense up for a moment, before he relaxed. ‘Of course, since she’s our dependable Konababy.’

‘I need a drink,’ Mork thought, glancing aside to Tork, who was still eyeing up the Mad Dog.

‘He’s still alive?’ Tork thought, swallowing down his nerves. ‘Should I ask him for his tales? Would it be too rude?’

“Jurot,” Adam whispered, motioning with his head. Jurot returned a nod.

Adam and Jurot stood opposite the Chief within his cabin, near the centre of the village. It was wooden, as one might have expected, with one large room that acted as a dining room, kitchen, and living room. There were two doors, one which led to his bedroom, and another to a bathroom, Adam assumed. The room was lightly furnished, though everything was almost new, with very little wear and tear, like the weapon holder upon the wall, which held either an invisible blade, or air. The chilly air brushed against Adam’s face, and he could smell the faint scent of dawnval, that was to say he could smell a vague floral scent he couldn’t put his nose to.

Jurot placed the wooden chest upon the table, causing the table to shudder slightly. The Chief, a young man by the name of Terry, glanced at the chest, and then to the Iyrman and the half elf.

“We of the business, wanted to apologise for the…” Adam bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry about Sky, and what he did. I heard that he was corrupted and he killed some of your people.”

“Dozens,” Terry confirmed, his eyes falling onto the Iyrman for a moment. “It slipped through and killed those without weapons, before it was finally put into its place by the Iyrmen. We tried to deal with it, but it ignored anything we did to it, save for some fire.”

“I’m really sorry for what happened, really sorry. Sky, he wouldn’t have done that, he knew better. The Iyr informed me that he was cremated until only dust remained, which hurts my heart, but the loss of those lives also hurt.”

The Chief nodded, keeping his tongue at bay, feeling the rage rising within, but he knew better now that he was the Village Chief.

“We can’t apologise enough, so please, I hope that this coin can go some way in helping the families of those who were harmed. It’s not enough, obviously, we only brought a thousand silver this time, but we’re working on figuring out something else. The Enchanter heard what happened here, and though they’re currently busy with all this news, they hope to right this wrong.”

“You placed Sky here to protect us, but it was a misfortune that something had overcome it. It was not your fault.”

“Either way, if you have anything you need. Weapons, equipment, let us know.”

The Chief looked to Jurot once more, who nodded. “If you have any shields, that would be great. It’s hard to find good steel around here, and we don’t get much from the merchants that come by. Red Oak has some nice steel, but sometimes its dangerous to send our own out the village.”

“Shields? No problem. We’ll bring a few shields, some enchanted shields too.”

“Oh, no, we can’t afford that.”

“Chief, it’s not about what you can and cannot afford. I’ll be sure to send a few shields your way, some of them enchanted.” Adam scratched his chin. “You, uh, often get surplus of fruits and vegetables, that sort of thing, right?”

“We do. We send some away for tax, and we make some goods to trade. Ale, wine, desserts, oils…”

“How about, look, we need food, and ale, all those sorts of things. I will bring to the Enchanter word perhaps of renting some weapons to you for some monthly produce. That way you don’t need to spend hundreds, thousands of gold, and instead can send a few goods our way, and you get some magical items you can borrow, until you feel like you don’t need them any more. I know that most of the trouble you get is dawnval, especially with the undead, so I’ll be sure to get some staves, that sort of thing.”

“That would be mighty grand,” the Chief said, letting out a soft sigh, raising his brows slightly.

“I’ll send word back, and we can figure something out later, but for now, please, accept the donation, and we’ve personally come, Jurot and I, along with a few of our members, to assist. Obviously, we’re no Mad Dog, but we can hold our own too.”

The Chief bowed his head. “About the donation, you don’t need to do anything like that.”

“Chief,” Adam said, reaching up to clasp his hands, pushing out his amulet of Baktu with his chest. “Whoever is responsible for that darkness, I’ll be sure to get revenge for those lost, so they can pass on without worry.”

“Th-thank you, Brother,” the Chief replied, a chill running down his spine with how warm the young man’s eyes were.

Adam bowed his head, before stepped away, feeling the chilly air of dawnval strike his cheeks once he was outside. He inhaled deeply, before letting out a long sigh. “When the Reavers come, let’s beat them up.”

“Okay,” Jurot said.

That evening, a shooting star fell across the sky. It was not just any shooting star, but a shooting star which brought disaster for a particular figure.

I find the stupidest things so funny.