Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“By the Divine,” Mork whispered as he almost walked into the door to his room, his brother’s large grey hand upon his shoulder stopping him.

“It’s like they’re carved out of obsidian,” Tork whispered.

“Jet.”

“Jet,” Tork agreed, quickly tossing his items aside, before stepping back out so he could pretend not to leer at the women, all the while his brother elbowed him so he didn’t get them into trouble.

‘Jesus, what are they feeding these women?’ Adam thought, his eyes darting around from woman to woman, though quickly scanning for Zabir, who stood to one side, his eyes full of pride. Yasha, on the other hand, was currently in conversation with one of the Order’s younger members, the pair catching up.

“They know each other?” Adam asked.

“I brought Yasha here to train when I could,” Zabir said. “Sometimes the guards will train with the local Order, or the local Order will come to train with the guards, and Yasha managed to impress upon the Order. She was offered a place, but she refused, my granddaughter who is so foolish.”

‘You guys, how can you be so cute?’ Adam thought, filling his heart with the dessert on display.

The women of the Order kept an eye upon the group, ignoring the obvious leering, whether by adoration for their beauty, or adoration for something else. One in particular caught their eye, the bronze skinned woman, who wielded a large greatsword upon her back, who eyed them especially keenly in return.

Naqokan stepped forward, followed by Uwajin, who then suddenly forced herself awake, for she had recalled just why Naqokan could step forward today.

“Good afternoon,” Naqokan called, bowing her head lightly to one of the warriors.

“Good afternoon, Iyrman,” the woman replied, her words slightly accented, though her voice was as smooth as cream. Her skin was as dark as any other around, her nose tip slightly pointed, her lips dark, a silver line running down the centre like a river, her eyes similarly silver, though she was human. She wore a breastplate, and wore two blades, straight as rays of moonlight at her side.

“My name is Naqokan, my grandmother, Otkan, was known as the Silver Drake.”

“I recall someone with that title,” the woman said, though she assumed she was too young while the woman was active. “I am Hasna, though I do not recall what epithets they have adorned me with, something along the lives of the Pretty, or Dancer, or some other general epithet they apply to we of the Five Moon.”

“I have yet to earn my own, though I have placed well in a tournament.”

“How well did you place?”

“I placed second to Nobby,” Naqokan said, motioning her head to the large fool of a man who was staring at the floor, his face devoid of thoughts.

“Him?”

“Nobby’s natural talents are great,” Naqokan said, pointing to the others. “Bovin placed third, and Faool fourth, while Uwajin, Nirot, and Laygak each earned a place among the top ten of the tournament.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Four years ago, at the Noonval Tournament in East Port.”

Hasna glanced aside towards the others she had pointed out. ‘So many placed well in the tournament?’

“Jurot placed first, and Kitool, who is speaking with Mother Crescent, placed a close second, and my cousin, Amokan, placed third.”

“That is impressive,” Hasna replied, though her memories returned to her.

“Adam was forced to take third, unable to take first. It was the tournament in which Vasera placed fourth.”

“Vasera? The Golden Savage?”

“Yes. It was the tournament in which Moon Dancer fought.”

“That tournament?” the woman replied, suddenly recalling the stories from their Vice Commander, who had placed well, but had spoken of the Iyrmen who had impressed her. It was a shame she had gone north to deal with the Reavers, otherwise she would have been able to treat these figures appropriately.

“I also hold a connection to the Order through my ancestor,” Naqokan said. “Kal Rubia, the Obsidian Blade.”

Hasna’s head snapped towards the young woman, who was pretty enough to be one of theirs, and upon her words, she understood why. “How are you related to her?”

“My greatfather’s greatfather married her,” Naqokan replied simply.

‘Is Naqokan bullying them?’ Adam thought, slowly approaching the group, leaning to the side. “What’s going on?”

“Naqokan has informed them of their connection,” Nirot whispered in return. “Her greatfather’s greatfather married a Vice Commander who had left. She should have claimed one of the titles of Moon, but they refused.”

“It’s always that, isn’t it?”

Hasna remained silent for a long while, her thoughts racing, trying to understand what the young woman was trying to do. “Do you still possess her moonsabre?”

“We do.”

“Have you come to return it?”

“It belongs to our family, since Rubiakan is one of ours,” Naqokan replied simply, narrowing her eyes the tiniest amount, for there was no way she would go down in history of surrendering a moonsabre.

“The blade belongs to the Order,” Hasna stated firmly.

“You are free to try and retrieve it.”

“Young lady,” Hasna stated, her voice pressing upon the young Iyrman’s shoulders, who continued to stand tall with pride. “Do not mistake our politeness for weakness.”

“I will not misunderstand your shamelessness as disrespect,” Naqokan dared to reply, causing Uwajin to stand up a little taller, for the young woman hadn’t expected Naqokan to bite back quite as harshly.

Hasna inhaled deeply, her chest rising as she did, her fists clenching tighter to the point they cracked. “You are no longer in the Iyr.”

“I have not shirked upon hearing the Orders of Aldland and Floria speak such words, I will not shirk upon hearing the Orders of Aswadasad speak such words.”

Hasna glared at the young woman harshly, before noticing another glaring at her from her periphery, and there was no way she would accept a man to glare at her so sharply within these sacred walls. “What is it?”

“I’m just… keeping an eye on things,” Adam said, his eyes cold, the young man’s arms crossed to try and stop himself from causing a mess.

“Lower your gaze,” Hasna demanded, glaring at the half elf with a viciousness, for if an Aswadian man dared to glare at her, she would have brushed it off, but a half elf?

“Whose going to make me?” Adam replied, slowly tilting his head back, as though to look down upon her. “You?”

Nirot realised how little they had informed the half elf of the Order, because if he had been told to behave and the reasons behind it, he wouldn’t have been asking for death in the middle of their Order. However, she noted Jurot keeping an eye on things from the side, and he had yet to step forward.

“I will.”

“Go ahead.”

“Young man,” the woman called, her entire body flexing and relaxing in a flash of rage. “Do you not know how big the world is, coveting death within our walls?”

“There are a few things people can’t say to me, and one of those things is asking me how big the world is,” Adam replied, at first with annoyance, but his tone quickly changing to humorous, for there was no way she had said such words to him. “Do you know who you’re talking to, miss?”

“A fool.”

“Exactly!” Adam exclaimed in response, suddenly filled with annoyance, since if she knew he was a fool, why would she pick a fight with him? “I’ve met figures that make us both look like ants. Lord Asa, who makes his home in Ever Green, could accidentally kill us with a damn sneeze! How could you speak of how big the world is to a fool like me?”

“We do not need the strength of Lord Asa to defeat the likes of you.”

Adam smirked slightly, his smirk dropping upon seeing the look within the Iyrmen’s eyes, and he cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose you don’t need someone as strong as him, but having someone half as strong as him would certainly help.”

“You believe yourself to be half as strong as Lord Asa?” Hasna asked, wondering if he was a greater fool than she realised.

“Well, no, but… I mean, I could probably at least, I don’t know…” Adam reached up to scratch his cheek. ‘I am so much stronger than when I met Shama, but there’s probably no way I could even take an arm right?’

‘What is he thinking about so deeply?’ Hasna wondered.

“Anyway, I can’t defeat Lord Asa, for sure, but someone like you?” Adam called, his voice like that, so Adamly.

Hasna inhaled sharply, her dark face tinged with the red of annoyance, and she drew her blades, which sang for blood.

“Adam, step back,” Jurot called as the half elf reached for his axe, ready and eager to farm the woman for XP. “We are not here to fight them.”

“Huh? She drew her blades though?” Adam replied, but noted the look within Jurot’s eyes, and the half elf cleared his throat. “Jurot, please! If Jirot finds out, she won’t even bully me, she’s just be… disappointed.”

Jurot sighed, for if Adam was going to go so far as to invoke his daughter’s name, then it would be difficult even for him to stop this now. “Very well, but you must hold back.”

“Yes!”

‘Is he truly a fool?’ the woman, who had forgotten Adam had defeated Vasera, thought.

This time I can’t blame Adam.