Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The old man brushed the red girl’s cheek, the girl squealing, her giggled a gentle melody which soothed his heart. “Jaja!”

“Jad,” the old man replied. “Jad.”

“Jaja!” Ranya clapped her hands excitedly, before hiding her face within his chest shyly as she continued to giggle. 

The old man continued to brush a finger along her cheek, feeling how warm her skin was in comparison to all the other children. His eyes fell upon her horns, the tiny nubs which were displayed so proudly, the girl’s curly hair cascading around them like black waterfalls. “You will find trouble in Aldland, my Ranya. You will find trouble in Aswadasad too, if you go near the South. In Central and in the West, it is best for you.”

“Wes?”

Ashmir smiled gently, the Lion King leaning in to nuzzle against the girl’s nose. “Aswadasad has been kind and unkind to those with pretty red skin and beautiful horns. Since you are the most gorgeous, they will be unkinder.”

“Jaja…”

Ashmir wondered if the girl understood, but he wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to sink further against him. “I knew many devilkin. When I fought in the arena, I fought many, and I fought alongside many. There was… Micah. We called him Four Horns, do you know why?”

“Foh?”

“It is because he had two horns on his head like you,” Ashmir said, reaching up to rub the girl’s horns with his thumb tenderly, “but his fists, they hurt much more.”

The girl smiled wider up at her grandfather, clapping her hands excitedly. She continued to shake and giggle within his arms as the old man smiled, revealing his white teeth towards the girl. 

“I fought him many times. Until, one day… he did not wake up. He was too tired. You? You do not get tired, do you? Is it all the fire within your blood?”

“Kekeke!”

“I fought many in my time. For the last decade I fought, they called me the strongest, the greatest ever. The one who taught me devilkin, many years ago, it was Tamin. Tamin Big Fist. Tamin the Strong. Tamin the Great. Tamin the Suleimun. Do you know they called him the Suleimun? It is from Sulayman al-Walid, the Shen of Shens. They said if you died a farmer, you died with your weight in silver. If you were a merchant, you died with your weight in gold. Sulayman, he died with his weight in copper, because he gave all his gold away. Most to his sons!”

Ranya began to cry out loud in laughter since her grandfather began to shake with such laughter, his laughter low, baritone, filling the girl with the warmth of safety. 

“His sons fought for a short while, but the youngest, he was put in charge of the East, because his elder brother could not dare to kill him. Even after they fought, the blood spilled in armed rebellion, the eldest still loved his younger brother.” 

“Love,” the girl said, her eyes staring up at her grandfather curiously.

“Yes.” Ashmir smiled. “I was taught by Tamin the Suleimun. Before me, they called him the greatest ever. I was still young when he retired. He was strong. So strong. He would fight with cannon balls. They were lighter, but, when they hit you, the Priests had appear quickly or you would die. I once saw him sink a ship with his cannon balls. The Priests, they cast their spells, yes, but… he was still that strong. Before him, there was Jaroh, you know that name, yes?”

“Jaroh!”

“Yes. You know of the Mad Dog, and his greatson? Their name is the same. Jaroh. Jaroh the Black. Do you know why they called him Jaroh the Black? It is because he was as pale as the Aldish.” Ashmir chuckled. “They called him the greatest ever because no one could hit him, he was too fast. His feet were like lightning, his fists like thunder.”

“Thun!” The girl threw up her fists.

“You are in the Iyr now, but you must remember. The world, it will hate you. They see your red skin, your horns. When they are cut, what colour is their blood? Hmm? Do they not have bones? Do they not play dragonchess? They say it is civility to play dragonchess, but who was it that cut the pieces together? Hmm? Who was it that fought against the blue dragons? They will not remember this, the humans of Aldland, of Aswadasad, but you must not forget.” Ashmir leaned down to kiss the girl’s forehead. “Your grandfather, he is old now, but if someone bullies you, you must tell me.”

“Jaja!”

“Who is it that bullies you?”

“Mm… Mama?”

“Your mother is difficult for even your father to defeat. He was wise to marry her, and she…” Ashmir thought of how to describe the girl, the woman, who had married the Priest. “She causes your father so much trouble…”

“Kekeke!”

Ashmir smirked slightly. “If anyone else bullies you, you can tell me.”

“Ahm?”

“Ahm?” Ashmir closed his eyes. “He bullies me too.”

“No?”

“It is fine, since he gives us many gifts…” Ashmir tickled the girl’s nose. “If he keeps bullying you, you must tell your cousin. Jirot, she is able to defeat your uncle and father so easily.”

“Jiwoh?”

Ashmir smiled, thinking of the girl and her brother. He sighed, leaning back within his seat, holding the girl close to his chest, rubbing her cheek tenderly. The girl stared up at him with innocent eyes full of love. 

“They…” Ashmir paused, realising how dangerous his words were.

“Jaja…”

A small, sad, hopeful smile appeared on his lips. “No. Their people, too, have many great stories.”

“Ranya, come,” Amira called, the woman approaching the old man and her eldest daughter. “I must take her to sleep.”

“No!” Ranya defied, only to yawn immediately, and she reached up her arms for her mother.

“I should change her, since she has left a gift for me,” Ashmir joked, groaning as he stood, feeling the ache within his old bones.

“I can’t let you, elder.”

Ashmir let out a groan, but he didn’t dare to rebut, since it was already awkward enough. “Ranya. You must sleep well.”

“Bye bye, Jaja,” the girl said, opening and clenching her hand towards her grandfather, before Amira carried her away.

Ashmir crossed his hands behind his back, watching the pair go until they were out of sight. He turned, trailing within the Front Iyr as the stars loomed overhead, the old man calming his worried heart, pacing away his worries. He stopped. He held out his hand, noting the scars, the wrinkles, and the slight trembling thanks to the cold, and his old age. He clenched his fist tight, stopping the shaking, feeling the heat against his palm, before he opened his hand once more. 

As the stars twinkled overhead, Chosen leaned back in his chair, sipping at his milk. His eyes darted to the side, catching Tanagek’s eye. 

“Does your brother wish to conquer the world?” Tanagek joked.

“No,” Jurot replied. 

“He could carve a piece of Aswadasad,” Chosen mused, a little too seriously. 

“He would not wish for it.”

“He may be forced to,” Chosen said, before sitting upright upon Jurot’s glare. 

“The Iyr would not allow it,” Tanagek stated, catching Jurot’s eye once more. The Adam he saw was, as Jurot had explained, cringe. Tanagek understood the word after only a single example, and almost everything he had seen of Adam seemed to exemplify the word, all save for that.

“He should have used an axe,” Chosen joked, smirking towards Tanagek. 

“…”

When dawn crested the Iyr, they did not see the half elf, though there was no doubt he was still alive. A few hours after breakfast, the half elf approached the gentle fire, where Jurot was entertaining his cousins. 

“Oh man, oh man! Working so late into the night is killer!” 

“You should not push yourself,” Jurot said.

“When the Reavers are dealt with, I’ll sleep easy,” Adam replied, dropping down beside the Iyrman, the half elf stretching out his shoulders and back. “Plus, sometimes they don’t really see me working hard, so I’ll need to do it in front of them.”

“Who?” 

“The workers. They might think I’m just relaxing when I’m actually working.”

“They cannot think so when you work so hard.”

“Yeah, but they don’t see that. They might think I’m those faceless elites that sit around thinking about how much I should be milking…” Adam glanced aside to Tanagek and Chosen, who stared at him curiously. “I’m a down to earth, salt of the earth, kinda guy, you know?”

“You have explained it to me, but you are rich now, Adam.”

“Whoa!” Adam raised a finger at the Iyrman. “Not cool, Jurot.”

“It is true.”

“Yes, but…” Adam swallowed nervously, his eyes darting between the Iyrmen, before his eyes turned towards Amira, who carried Enisa towards them. The half elf smiled, though his tilted head betrayed his confusion. 

“What is the issue?” Amira asked, holding Enisa out to the half elf, who quickly took the tiny baby girl, bringing her head to his chest. “I heard you had awoken, and thought you would want to hold her before you left to work.”

“You know, you guys keep attacking me today, but there’s a bigger issue here,” Adam replied, and for once, though he was smiling, his confused tone implied he wasn’t entirely joking.

“What is wrong?” Jurot asked.

The bigger issue here is a bigger issue.