Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Do you know what this is?” Anne asked, the rays of light illuminating the pair of dice within her hands. The wood was red, a beautiful deep red, but a red that only few could truly admire, especially a particular set of twins.

“Red oak!” Jirot declared excitedly, her amber eyes sparkling as she stared at the wood, which was near uniform, but she could note every tiny swirl, and while Anne saw only three or four different reds depending on the light, Jirot was mesmerised by the dozens of different reds. “Papo likes red oak, but he cannot buy it, because the town is so mean.”

“One needs to be quite special to procure red oak, or items made of red oak,” Anne informed the girl, smiling slightly. “I am quite special and so I was able to buy these dice from a fine craftsman.”

“My papo is special…” The girl’s eyes fell to Jurot, who bowed his head lightly, his ears turning almost as red as the dice.

“I know he is. Perhaps the town will see it too, one day.”

“One day,” the girl agreed. “In the future.”

“That’s right,” Anne replied, smiling slightly, trying to understand why this situation made her think so deeply. “I bought these dice for you, you and your siblings. I have bought three, one for each of you. I did not know about your other siblings, but I have bought one for you and your brothers.”

“I have four brothers, and there are three dice, but I am fifth?” Jirot said, trying to do the numbers in her head, her eyes squinting slightly.

“She gets her ability with numbers from her mother,” Adam joked.

Anne glanced aside towards the half elf, taking a moment to see the glare within the half elf’s eyes. His face twitched, and quickly he bowed his head respectfully, having realised his suspicion had been caught. “I have heard that their mother is a Ray.”

“Ray Vonda,” Adam confirmed.

“It is a fortunate thing for you to have married a Ray, and for their mother to hold such a position,” Anne said, wondering if that had something to do with the Hope retreating right before the half elf appeared to cause a mess.

“I’m very lucky to have such a beautiful wife, and such adorable children,” Adam replied, with a genuine smile that almost disarmed the Bear Mother.

Anne handed the dice to each of the children, Jirot excitedly clutching her die, while little Jarot held it up to show it to his aunt, Jaygak, meanwhile Larot glared at the die, before Adam plucked it from the Bear Mother’s hand.

“He doesn’t really talk,” Adam said. “Jirot, Jarot, what do we say when someone-,”

“Thank you!” Jirot exclaimed towards the woman, holding up her die. “You give such lovely gifts! You are so amazing, Bear Mother. Babo, your friend is so nice.”

Malfev brushed his beard, and though his moustache and beard was so thick it covered his lips, the smile reached his eyes. “It is because I am very good at choosing friends.”

“Yes. You are so good at choosing friends, babo. Good job!” Jirot held up a thumbs up for her babo, the old man smiling even wider.

The Bear Mother went to greet the other Iyrmen, thanking them for their hospitality, and for allowing her to hear their tales, and to speak her own tales to the business.

“Adam,” Malfev called, grabbing a fistful of his beard as he switched to the Iyr’s tongue, his voice lowering. “Would you gift them a chest of silver?”

Adam raised his brow towards the older man, who had made the request so shyly. “Of-,” Adam began, before realising how he could tease the old man. “Jirot, Jarot, what word do we use when we ask someone for something?”

“Please!” Jirot stated, her brother’s quieter voice echoing.

Malfev snorted slightly, the old man brushing his beard to hide his smile. “Would you gift them a chest of gold, please?”

“Sure,” Adam replied, raising his brows towards the old man, and though he had caught the difference, he didn’t refuse.

“A chest of silver is fine,” Malfev said, seeing that Adam had caught on to his words, but was challenging the old man to see if he would allow Adam to do something so ridiculous.

“I’ll have Manager Dunes hand it over,” Adam said. “It would be nice for their Orders to get along.”

“That would put him in a difficult position,” Malfev stated. “If you are too shy, Jaygak should do it.”

“A chest of silver will only hold a few hundred silver coins at most, right? They might use that against her. Filthy red skin, how dare she only hand over-,” Adam paused, noting the shock in Malfev’s eyes as the half elf spoke out. Adam furrowed his brows, tilting his head slightly.

“You should not speak such spiteful words.” The older Iyrman placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Not you, Adam.”

“What? I wasn’t the one, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just an example of what the Aldish would think, not something I’m saying.”

“I know you do not mean it that way, but what of the others? If they hear you speak such a way, your children who may not understand, they will hold such thoughts.”

“Ah,” Adam gasped, flushing a deep red. “You’re right. Sorry.”

Malfev bowed his head, seeing how embarrassed Adam was, and since the half elf understood, he decided against harping on about it.

“I’ll fill it with some gold too, so that way they can’t say anything,” Adam said, clearing his throat, shuffling away.

Anne accepted the chest with gratitude, before greeting the Grand Commander of High Garden, the previous Grand Commander of the Thousand Hunts.

“Is the duel not entertaining enough for you?” Sir James joked.

“We already know how it will end, and we should return to prepare for the Reavers. I hope justice is victorious today.”

“I shall make sure of it,” James replied with a small smile upon his lips, seeing as how coy she was with her words, leaving the matter vague.

The Order of the Steel Bears made their way northward, finding Malfev waiting for them at the gate.

“It was good to see you again, Malfev.”

“It was good to see you too, Bear Mother.” Malfev smiled, and he could feel the ache within his heart. “I wanted to congratulate you before you left.”

“Congratulate me? For what?”

“I am glad you were able to become Bear Mother. I… was unable to beat him.”

Anne smiled slightly. “Since her greatchildren watch over you so tenderly, I don’t think you regret it.”

Malfev’s beard could not hide the smile upon his face as the pair shook forearms, and the group made their way northward. Anne quickly feel remained deep in thought, the glow of reuniting with her old friend quickly giving away to darkness, the anxiety pounding at her skull.

“Lady Anne, you couldn’t have warned us earlier?” one of her companions asked. “I was enjoying my time in the stream. The water is so crisp.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who noted how lovely the water was,” another added. “One might have thought the Divine blessed it.”

“I told you as quickly as I could,” Anne replied, the tone of her voice cutting off the complaints from the rest of her companions, even Nellie, whose criticisms flowed out from her lips as easily as an Iyrman drew their blade.

Malfev watched her leave, his eyes falling upon the Order which remained. He heard the steps approaching from beside him, as the Chief stepped beside him.

“Thank you,” Iromin said.

“She did not have the opportunity to speak to the children much,” Malfev stated, frowning, brushing his beard in feigned annoyance.

“An excuse to meet again.”

Malfev tilted his head slightly, allowing the matter to drop. He had been asked to speak with Anne, to advise her that she and her companions should leave before the duel. The confusion within Anne remained only for a moment, for the look within Malfev’s eyes had said enough.

“I hope it will all go according to plan,” Malfev said.

“That would be disappointing.”

“Since I am not allowed to draw my spear, I can only pray for such,” Malfev joked, glancing up towards the sky, the sun still a few hours away from noon.

Jurot made his way to the village, noting the gazes of all the Orders upon him, but he walked proudly through the roads, towards a particular spot of the village. A handful of heavily armoured Oathsworn kept a watchful eye upon Bael, who hadn’t slept in the night, and yet the half dragon seemed as troublesome as ever, confirming he was definitely a dragon.

“I’m not hungry,” Bael stated, noting the gourd within the basket before adding, “or thirsty.”

“Brother Mork said you should drink today,” Jurot replied.

“Tell him I’ll drink when he makes it rain,” Bael joked.

“He said he will not.”

Bael raised his brow, before smirking slightly. He reached down and undid the lid for the gourd, gulping down the grain wine as though it were air, before dropping the gourd back into the basket, dismissing Jurot with a nod.

Jurot waited for a moment, holding the half dragon’s gaze. “Thank you, Bael.”

“You’re the one who brought me alcohol,” Bael replied, a knowing grin growing upon his lips.

Jurot bowed his head, taking the basket away, allowing Bael to remain. Bael spoke up in the dragon’s tongue, but Jurot had not learnt the language. Even so, he turned, meeting Bael’s gaze. Bael raised his brow, before understanding Jurot did not understand his tongue.

“Will you need me?” Bael asked in the common tongue in front of all the Order, some of whom had already understood his words.

“No,” Jurot replied. “This is a matter of the Iyr.”

“How unfortunate,” Bael said, his voice carrying out, making sure more of the Order could hear his blatant disrespect.

‘If the Grand Commander hadn’t asked us to show you respect, do you think you could speak in such a way?’ one of the Order members thought.

While the Grand Commander completed his preparations, exercising lightly, praying lightly, then checking upon his various companions, Adam was completing his preparations too.

“Stay still, you silly girl!” Adam called out to Katool, before painting the rest of her pinky. “There we go! Now you have to wait, for a little while to allow it to dry.”

Katool stared at the half elf suspiciously.

“What?” Adam asked.

Katool looked towards her aunts and uncles, who were patiently waiting. Even though they had eaten breakfast together, and had played a few games, and had painted their nails, Adam had still yet to do that.

There was no way he had forgotten, right?

“Cousin Adam…” Katool frowned. “How could you do this to me?”

“Do… what?” Adam asked.

“Sister!” Katool cried aloud, frowning towards Kitool.

“Adam,” Kitool called. “It is Katool’s birthday.”

Adam remained silent. He closed his eyes. He shook slightly, doing his best not to laugh out. He exhaled sharply. “I see. I guess, to make it up to you, I’ll need to gift you something good. How about… Sentinel’s Rest?”

Panic rose within the adult Iyrmen around, who had been too late to stop Adam from saying something so ridiculous. They had let down their guards, for the half elf was hours away from potential death, so they had expected him to at least worry about it instead of making such a ridiculous joke.

“Daddy, that is a terrible gift,” Jirot said.

“What?” Adam replied, taken aback by his daughter’s words.

“Kako uses a staff, not a sword,” Jirot informed her father, as though he were a fool. “My gift is so much better, kako, look!”

The twins revealed their gifts to their aunt, a letter that was written by the hands of a pair of twins who held their styluses like daggers, with a picture drawn by a pair of four year olds with tiny hands, certainly of Katool, considering the bob was so well drawn.

“We made it for you!” Jirot said, allowing Jarot to hold it up for their aunt.

Katool accepted the letter from the twins, hugging them both tight, kissing their foreheads. As the gifts continued to pile onto the girl, she glanced aside to her mother, who was waiting for the question.

“Mother?” Katool called.

“Yes?”

“Is cousin Adam really going to gift me Sentinel’s Rest?”

Citool remained silent for a long moment. “Adam?”

“Yes?”

“You are going to gift Katool Sentinel’s Rest?”

“Can I not?”

“Please do not.”

Adam, seeing Katool’s frown, thought about the two paths ahead of him. One was to continue teasing Katool, seeing her frown which fuelled his heart, and then the other path…

“Grandfather,” Adam called. “They will not allow me to gift my cousin Sentinel’s Rest.”

The old one armed Iyrman inhaled deeply, doing his best not to burst out in laughter. Even he had thought Adam was joking, but if Adam was going to invoke his title, then it must have been serious. “Who dares to deny my grandson?”

“If I do?” the Chief asked, feeling the stress rising up in the business, even noting the way the businessfolk were staring out towards them, full of shock.

“Do you think I will not-,”

“Father,” Sonarot warned, not wanting the businessfolk to see Jarot picking a fight with the Chief, especially since she was certain it wasn’t a joke.

“No one can stop my grandson from giving such a gift to my grandniece,” Jarot said, his eyes darting to Shaool, and upon their eyes meeting, the woman understood Jarot was ready to spill blood over it.

“Why are you all acting like this is the first time Adam has given away a great weapon?” Jaygak asked.

“It is different this time,” Jurot said. “Jirot is right, the Ool family uses a staff or a spear.”

Jonn blinked. Even though Adam had asked him if he was okay with killing his previous Grand Commander, his heart had remained calm. However, Sentinel’s Rest was a completely different matter, and to speak of it as though one were trading a bundle of cloth, it pained his soul.

Dunes and Amira both decided to ignore Adam. Dunes refused to acknowledge the mention of Sentinel’s Rest, while Ranya slapped the paper in front of her, glancing up at her father questioningly.

“Harold.”

“Hara?” Ranya asked.

“That is the name of the King of Floria.”

“Foyah?”

“That is right,” Dunes said.

Ranya returned back to the paper, staring at the letters, before glancing up at her father as though he were a fool. “Pep oh ay ya ya yah.”

“You’ll get used to his troublesomeness,” Dunes assured.

“Mama?”

Amira sighed. “I think your father is right.”

“Okeh.”

“What is Sentinel’s Rest?” Lucy whispered to Mara.

Mara smiled. “Jirot, will you tell Lucy what Sentinel’s Rest is?”

Jirot threw a look to Lucy, before wiping down her face, the girl gasping, before checking her painted nails. “Phew!”

Adam, it’s all up to you now.