Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

It had taken a long moment for Adam to recall why the name sounded so familiar. He had thought Jarot’s zeal in training was because of what happened to his greatchildren, but Adam understood that the old man’s rage and zeal were spurred by a greater guilt than he originally thought.

“How strong is he?”

“We consider him to be of Silver, if he was to be ranked within the Guild.”

“Do you know where they are?”

The Chief remained silent for a long while. Adam hadn’t asked about this since it had happened. However, if he had been informed from the very beginning, perhaps the half elf would have changed his mind on how to approach the matter. Even so, the Iyr was still willing to accept the decision of the Rot family, and so the Chief had already written up the commands should they change their mind.

“They are present within the meeting with the various Orders in Floria. I expect they shall remain until dawnval, but I cannot be certain.”

“The meeting…” Adam slowly nodded his head. “Near Ever Green, right?”

“Yes.”

“I heard that, uh… all the Orders, the new ones from Floria, are also there.”

“Yes.”

“How many are there, roughly?”

“From each Order, at least a dozen. The Order of Wings has also sent a representative, Sir Dunnock.”

“Who is the strongest there?”

“Lord Marshal Royce.”

“He’s there too?” Adam asked, feeling the weight upon his shoulders grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment. “Is that all?”

“King Merryweather may be present if you are unfortunate, but there are many Masters and Grandmasters.”

“It doesn’t matter how many of them there are, Chief. I only need to kill two.”

“…” Iromin slowly bowed his head.

“What kind of force would you send to kill the two?” Adam asked, trying to prepare himself for the task at hand.

“To kill the Vice Commander and his apprentice, we would only need to send five, each at least Masters, but we would send four Grandmasters and one Paragon. We would not expect them to survive, but we would bring their bodies to bury them within the Iyr.”

“Will you bury me within the Iyr?”

“Yes.”

“What if they don’t let you?”

“They will.”

“If they don’t?”

“If they kill Elder Peace, they would need to worry of we Iyrmen, and not the Reavers.”

Adam smiled slightly, feeling the tears sting his eyes. “The axe, you can destroy, but will you make sure that, uh… Asorot, that he gets my shield?”

“Okay.”

“You can keep my armour. I’ve already split the money. The business should be okay for a few years, with Kiara, and the other enchanters. Once the children are older, Konarot, Kirot, Karot, they can enchant to help the business out. Jirot, well..” Adam shrugged his shoulders. “There’s about, a hundred, close to two hundred thousand, that’ll be about seven or eight years, not including Kiara’s enchanting.”

“Will you use your beads?”

“Yeah.”

Iromin remained silent for a long while. “Okay.”

“If, uh… Aunt doesn’t want to keep the business running, I’ll… I’ll discuss it with her, but once I’m gone, I hope that you’ll watch over the business. I’m sure it’ll be useful to the Iyr in the long run.”

“We will consider it.”

“I know I can trust you to deal with it properly.” Adam let out a small sigh. “Thank you, Chief.”

“Thank you, Adam.”

Adam shook his head. “That’s not why I’m thanking you.”

“I know.”

Adam swallowed slightly, allowing a solitary tear flow down his cheek. “I hope you’ll forgive whatever messes Jirot causes when she’s a Chaos Enchanter.”

“She is her father’s daughter, and her greatfather’s greatdaughter,” Iromin said, his tone heavy, already full of exhaustion. ‘I should retire before she is of age.’

Adam chuckled, before taking the first sip of his tea, which had cooled down. He warmed it, finishing his tea, warming his wife’s tea, finishing it too. “Can’t let good tea go to waste.”

“Adam,” Iromin called, staring deep into the half elf’s eyes. “The Iyr can… we can help you.”

“Please take good care of my children, and my wife,” Adam said, keeping the older Iyrman’s gaze. “That’s all I need.”

With that, the half elf excused himself, returning back to the shared estate, where he found Vonda with little Virot and Xarot.

“Thought you were heading to the shared family estate.”

“I wished to annoy you upon your return.”

“Can you annoy me?” Adam asked, sitting down beside his wife, holding her hand within his own, while Virot glared at the half elf from her mother’s bosom, hiding her face. “Someone woke up cranky.”

“Damrot did not sleep well either,” Vonda said, brushing her daughter’s hair with her hand.

“So they think not sleeping well gives them permission to be so cute?” Adam asked, inhaling deeply, before letting out a tired sigh. “Did Aunt take the children?”

“Yes, with Shaman Lokat and Jurot.”

Adam slowly nodded his head, before glancing aside to Damrot, who sucked his thumb while cuddling his mother. “Damrot.”

The boy jolted slightly, before looking over to Adam. He blinked. A wide smile slipped across his face, before he returned back to sucking his thumb, pushing himself up with a hand, the boy staring at his uncle with sheer joy.

“He is smiling so much, does he need to be changed?” Vonda teased.

“My Damrot is always so happy when he sees me, isn’t that right, my boy?” Adam called out, wiggling his fingers at the boy.

Damrot giggled, before turning his head away from his uncle, only to look back at the half elf, noticing his uncle was still looking at him, and he hid himself again.

“Since your daddy is not here, I’ll just steal you away, shall I?”

Damrot giggled again, while Pam adjusted him, so the boy was sitting on her lap, facing his uncle. “Booboo!”

Adam’s smile faded, causing the boy to stop smiling too. Adam looked to Vonda. “There’s no way.”

“He is clean,” Pam confirmed.

Adam’s eyes fell down to Virot, the girl distracted by her hair, before she noticed her father staring at her. She rolled over to the side, while Vonda reached for her bottom.

“She is showing you mercy today,” Vonda joked.

Adam smiled, the pair relaxing beside one another, allowing the day to pass by, like romance in noonval.

It was later that night, the half elf and his Iyrman brother, poured one another drinks. Adam stared at the cups, filled with the peach wine the Rot family adored. He raised the cup to Jurot, the pair bowing their heads, sipping the wine lightly, allowing the flavour to dance along their tongues, but the wine had never tasted quite so bitter.

The stars twinkled above them, their myriad of colours would have mesmerised the twins, but for the half elf and the Iyrman, the stars were but the colour of broken men.

“Lanarot can count so well,” Adam said. “Her spelling, you know, but her numbers? She’s definitely Churot’s cousin.”

“She can spell colours well,” Jurot said.

“With a U?”

“…”

Adam waved his hand lightly. “It was a bad joke for home, too.”

Jurot slowly nodded his head, the pair sipping away in silence. The two continued to drink, the flushness of their cheeks providing them a warmth.

“You know…” Adam thought about the words he wanted to speak, but realised Jurot already knew them. He didn’t need to tell Jurot how important it is for a father to complete the most basic of duties, especially not how eager the Iyrmen become for death if the duty was not met. “I’m going to butcher them, Jurot.”

Jurot remained silent, noting the tears upon Adam’s face.

“I’m going to slaughter them like animals, and anyone who tries to stop me,” Adam whispered, staring into his cup, feeling a deep heat rise within him. “King Merryweather. Lord Marshal Royce. Starsword. No one’s going to stop me.”

Jurot poured the last of the wine, half in his own small cup, half within Adam’s. “Okay.”

That night, Jirot awoke screaming within her babo’s chest, causing him to awaken, the Iyrman rubbing the top of her head tenderly. It was the guilt which washed away his rage, and the Iyrman let out soft huffs, while little Jarot cried too.

“Huu!” Jirot cried, sobbing within her greatfather’s chest, feeling the gentle taps against his back, while Otkan gently pat little Jarot’s back.

Gangak took the pair to one side once they had calmed, changing their clothies, washing the pair clean.

Jirot sniffled. “Nano.”

“Yes?”

“I am going to waken.”

“Yes?”

“When I am waken, I am going to be Demon Lord. I am-,” the girl hiccuped slightly, sniffling and wiping her eyes. “Big axe and big shield, and I going to fight.”

“Yes, my dear.”

Jirot glared down at the floor. “No one can kill me, nano.”

“Yes, my Jirot,” Gangak said, pulling the girl close to her bosom, embracing the twins.

“I am going to kill them,” Jirot whispered.

Gangak held the girl close, closing her eyes. “What of your mummy?”

Jirot gasped, staring up at her greatmother. “No! I will not kill mummy!”

“Of course not, my dear, but she is a Ray of Life’s Rose. She does not like killing.”

“I…” Jirot pouted. “Is our secret, nano?”

“Okay,” Gangak assured, planting firm kisses on their foreheads. “It is our secret.”

Our Jirot is definitely going to become the Demon Lord.