Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2

Attack: Thunder’s Triumph (Advantage)

D20 + 11 = 27 (16)

D20 + 11 = 31 (20)

Critical Hit!

Mana: 34 -> 31

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8D6 + 9 = 49 (11)(8)(21)

49 damage!

Attack: Thunder’s Triumph (Advantage)

D20 + 11 = 15 (4)

D20 + 11 = 31 (20)

Critical Hit!

Mana: 31 -> 28

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8D6 + 9 = 60 (10)(5)(36)

60 damage!

Onward Soar: 1 -> 0

Mana: 28 -> 23

Spell: Searing Smite

Attack: Thunder’s Triumph (Advantage)

D20 + 11 = 23 (12)

D20 + 11 = 27 (16)

Hit!

Thunder’s Triumph: 3 -> 2

Critical Hit!

Mana: 23 -> 20

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8D6 + 10D6 + 9 = 99 (18)(6)(34)(32)

99 damage!

Attack: Thunder’s Triumph (Advantage)

D20 + 11 = 30 (19)

D20 + 11 = 31 (20)

Critical Hit!

Mana: 20 -> 17

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8D6 + 9 = 65 (13)(4)(39)

65 damage!

Victory!

XP Gained: +1 000

XP: 29 600 -> 30 600

After the explosion of magical sword against magical armour, Adam froze a moment, his heart thundering within his chest, the chill and heaviness of looming death ready to take his neck. Then, a beat later, the thud. The thud and the magical steel sinking within the earth. The half elf slowly sheathed the blade, and with heavy steps, he approached Dunes. Wordless, the Priest took the blade from Adam’s hand. Adam remained quiet for a long moment, until he jolted, glancing aside towards Dunes.

“Dunes?” Adam asked, feeling the warmth return within his body, the half elf glancing around in confusion.

“Adam,” Dunes replied.

Adam turned his head towards the older half dragon, who the Priests approached tentatively, before praying in order to bring him back to life. The unfortunate Priest who had brought him back felt a hand upon his throat, though the Malawi’s smile caused the half dragon to relax his grip, bruising the Priest’s skin, though another quickly healed him. The old half dragon grunted, sitting upright, and after a moment, he growled something towards the nearby Priest.

Adam came to once the Priest held the greatsword in front of him, the half elf jolting again, blinking down at the greatsword, simple in design, the blade silver and green, the handle long and brown, but Adam saw it differently, in a darkness.

“Excuse me?” the half elf replied.

“Kal Isam has relinquished Big Leaf,” the Priest stated calmly.

“Oh,” Adam said, before he repeated the word once he understand what she was talking about. “Right, of course. I, uh… Dunes, if you would.”

Dunes accepted the blade from the woman, groaning quietly from the weight of the greatsword, while Adam blinked, forcing away the chill that weighed down his body. The half elf flexed, trying to warm himself up, long and slow breaths slowly calming his thundering heart, but even then, his heart continued to pound heavily, like war drums before a battle, though it had long passed.

After a moment, the Priest could feel the magic surge through him, his eyes darting towards the beautifully wicked blade, and for a moment he thought he could take on the world, or even more terrifyingly, the half elf beside him.

Uli stared at the half elf. The pair had exploded with such force, both ready to die, that he had been unable to breathe in the moment. The pressure in the air had grown heavy, the temperature had dropped, and what he had seen were two monstrous beasts ready to kill one another. Adam had defeated Isam, the Poison Dragon Sword, but the pair could still feel the lingering after effects of the monster known as the Poison Dragon Sword. It was only once the pressure had dropped that Uli understood what had happened.

Adam had defeated Isam.

Anka’s eyes fell to Dunes, her heart also still from Isam’s intense killing intent, but as the moments had passed and she had gathered herself, she had realised the other individual had won. She was fairly certain Isam wouldn’t have killed her, or killed her with such a terrifying might, but she never would have thought she could have defeated him.

Tanagek brushed off the intense oppression with relative ease, for he was an Iyrman, but even his eyes drifted towards the half elf. It was one thing for Adam to defeat Paragons, which was already borderline impossible, but for Adam to face, and defeat, the likes of Isam the Poison Dragon Sword, someone who could now go blow for blow with the legendary figure the Iyrman was named after, it defied even his already ridiculously high expectations.

John’s eyes darted to the side, noting the looks upon the Iyrmen’s faces, seeing even they were surprised. His own heart continued to thunder, and as he glanced aside, he noted the look upon Brittany’s face, who seemed to no longer be present.

Zabir swallowed, his old heart threatening to give in on him. He saw Adam had felt it too, but even so, never in a thousand years had he expected to see the half elf, a boy a third his age, defeat the likes of a living legend like the Poison Sword Dragon. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to awaken from this nightmare.

“Noorhabi,” Yasha whispered.

Adam flexed, fighting off the heaviness, and he turned to face Dunes, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Would you mind helping me out a little?”

“I would not mind,” Dunes replied, hoping he could hand this sword to someone else because it was so heavy.

“What is it?” Isam asked, his voice almost a growl, sitting cross legged upon the earth, feeling the soft soil under him. He glared at the half elf who had grown so pale. Though Isam had lost, it was Adam who had stared death in the face. Had the half elf not been a fraction of a second quicker than himself, the half dragon would have cleaved through his purple armour, leaving the half elf bisected by his magical blade for the Iyrmen.

“I appreciate you keeping your word, but I just realised I don’t use greatswords,” Adam admitted, barely able to look at the fellow, his eyes darting to the flowers nearby. “I hope you’re willing to use it against the Reavers.”

“I don’t intend to grasp what I’ve already let go of.”

Adam inhaled sharply, feeling the annoyance rise within him, fighting off the fear which had gripped his heart. “I appreciate your words, but, I really don’t want to be carrying around this sword. Besides, it’s pretty heavy.”

“You may hand it to one of the Iyrmen,”

“Just looking at it is giving me PTSD,” Adam half joked, though he twitched at the memory of the blade rushing towards him with the weight of an entire castle. However, he could see the glare within the half dragon’s eyes, but there was something else which emanated from him. “I’ll return the sword to you, and I’ll speak with the Priest Commander of Black Mountain. Our business, the United Kindom, will assist in the matter with the Reavers in some way, and you can… do what you need to do.”

The old man narrowed his eyes, sniffing the air, noting how strange he smelled, but there was something else to him, a vague feeling of familiarity, and a strange sense of nostalgia which tugged at his heart. The old Iyrman glanced to the side, motioning with his head. “Iyrman, come.”

Tanagek stepped forward, approaching the half dragon. He sat opposite the half dragon who remained sitting cross legged upon the earth.

“What is your name?” Isam asked.

“Tanagek.”

“Hmph,” the half dragon scoffed. “You are not even half the Iyrman.”

“Not yet,” Tanagek replied.

The green half dragon narrowed his eyes slightly, for it was a decent enough answer. “Does he obey you?”

“He can.”

“Who is his master?”

Tanagek thought for a beat. “His wife, and his daughter.”

The old half dragon glared at the Iyrman for a long moment, narrowing his eyes once more, for it was an even better answer. His eyes fell upon the half elf once more, the annoyance giving away to darkness once more. “Upon my death, you may claim Big Leaf.”

“Big Leaf?”

“My sword,” Isam stated.

“Oh,” the half elf replied, recalling he had heard its name previously. “Thank you.”

“Will you confirm it?” Isam asked.

“I have confirmed it,” Tanagek said, and once the Priests brought the wine for them to drink, Tanagek left the half dragon alone.

‘It is my own fault for being so weak,’ Isam thought, feeling the comforting weight of his blade against his back, Big Leaf pressed into the earth. He closed his eyes, returning back to another time.

“Sorry,” Adam whispered.

“For what?” Dunes replied.

“I told him I’d speak with your Priest Commander in order to let him go,” Adam said, while Kizwolima sat beside him, holding his hand, the girl nibbling on the fruit.

“A chest of silver and gold can deal with that,” Dunes replied, dismissing his concern. “Why did you do it?”

“We should let the man grieve in peace,” Adam replied simply, staring down at the tea, into his own eyes.

Dunes turned his head towards the garden, before his eyes fell back to the half elf, who had glimpsed so much from staring death in the face.

Adam wins and yet somehow he’s the one who got PTSD?