Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The crisp air of Black Mountain filled his lungs. It was this air, in this place, which forged the heartiest of warriors within Aswadasad, the land of gold. It was this air which filled the lungs of John, who thought of his children, his three boys who were so quiet, so sweet, so tender. Though his eyes were upon the scene before him, that of a young half elf in purple standing over someone considered to be among the greatest in all the lands, he could see another sight. That of his triplets, each able to stand tall and proud, not living within the dirt their own father could only provide.

Victory!

XP Gained: +1 000

Tough Spirit: 1 -> 0

2D6 + 9 = 15 (6)

Health: 32 -> 47

Adam slipped his axe to his side, flexing his muscles, regaining his strength. He noted the looks of those around him, from the various Blades, to all the Sheaths whom surrounded him. He removed his helmet, revealing a particular glare within his eyes, as though challenging the authority of Black Mountain.

“It was a great honour to see such a bout,” Adilnur said, sipping his pink tea casually, the old man beaming with a childish glee.

“It was my honour to face such a great opponent,” Adam admitted, his eyes softening upon the old man’s words, the half elf bowing his head. “It’s been years since anyone has brought me onto the ropes-, uh, it’s been many years since anyone has brought me to the brink of unconsciousness, so I’m afraid I did go a little overboard.”

“Young man, you speak as though our First Blade is so weak,” Aziz, the Second Blade, said.

“Weak? He lasted much longer than both the Fariq of High Garden and the Full Moon of the Five Moons,” the half elf replied, letting out a pained sigh. “In fact, even if the New Moon accepted my challenge-,”

“Adam,” Jurot warned.

The half elf’s eyes narrowed slightly, while his lips formed such a wide smirk, revealing just whose father he was. “Either way, it is the case that he is the strongest opponent I have faced all year, from the likes of all the Grand Commanders of the various Orders I have faced, from Aldland, Floria, and even Aswadasad.”

“You fought other Fariqi?” Aziz asked.

“I killed the Fariq of High Garden,” Adam admitted finally.

A wave of shock rippled through the crowd, one that silenced many of their thoughts, while they all stared at the half elf before them, who stood so tall and proud, as though he had been raised breathing the crisp air.

“Are you stating you killed Kal Yamas Greatwood?” Aziz stated, unable to believe the words of the half elf.

“I am stating I killed Sir James Greatwood, the now deceased Grand Commander of High Garden, who was once the Grand Commander of the Thousand Hunts, whose Vice Commander dared to kill my sons, and so I cut his head clean off, causing the Grand Commander to come for my head,” the half elf stated firmly, glaring into the Second Blade’s eyes, who remained a deer in headlights.

How could it be that this half elf…

Aziz’s eyes fell upon the form of the First Blade, now coming to, thanks to the healing magic of one of his Sheaths. At first, it would have been inconceivable that such a young man had killed the Grand Commander, but could he really refute it considering what he saw before his very eyes.

“I believe I have confirmed my words, Malawi,” Adam finally said, still smirking. “I hope you are willing to discuss further.”

The Malawi had watched the half elf dismantle their greatest warrior before his very eyes. This was a young man who was not allowed to live, and certainly, if they had-

No.

Why was he thinking in such a way?

Hassan’s eyes fell onto the young man beside him, a boy who had been raised within this very mountain, the crisp air keeping him company for decades. Dunes had warned him, but he hadn’t taken the young Priest seriously, since he spoke such ridiculous words, but now seeing the Adam before him, he couldn’t refute any of the Priest’s words, not any more.

This Priest, who had brought to them a figure so defying the imagination, who was currently predisposed towards them?

Dunes, on the other hand, wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the half elf like this. Normally, the half elf was quite the fool, and a troublemaker, and sometimes he revealed his intelligence, but this time his eyes were focused, honed like a blade.

He was his daughter’s father.

Brittany’s eyes followed the half elf’s back as he disappeared, following the Malawi and the Mustashalur to another place, accompanied by the Second Blade, as well as six of the Sheaths, more than enough to deal with the likes of the half elf, especially after he had come to blows with the First Blade.

“Young man,” Salim called, feeling the ache deep within his body, proof that he had been so thoroughly defeated. Though there were many who could lie to themselves, the pain, the throbbing, did not allow the First Blade to lie to himself. Adam had defeated him, soundly, and in such a way that implied the half elf had chosen to hold back at first.

“Old geezer,” Adam replied, turning upon his heel to meet the First Blade’s gaze.

‘What did he just call him?’

“They call me the First Blade because I am the strongest within Black Mountain,” Salim stated. “However, I am but the second strongest Blade within my family.”

The half elf narrowed his eyes slightly, vaguely understanding the man’s words, the pride he held within them, and the want to take the blame solely upon himself, and not upon any other. The half elf nodded, almost making to turn, before allowing the intrusive thought to spill from between his lips. “They call me the Crazy Father, because I’m insane. However, I am but the second most insane within my family.”

‘Cringe,’ Bael thought.

‘Is this what he means when he says Jurot is being cute?’ Nirot thought, eyeing up her cousin.

The half elf followed the pair to a small building to one side, simple in design, though the room within, large, was filled with all manner of carved wood, a small army of statues, as well as various racks designed to hold swords.

‘I should have requested Jurot join us,’ the half elf thought, sitting upon the table in the centre of the room, the Mustashalur sitting opposite him, bringing out a small basin of water for them to wash their hands, while the Malawi brought over a teapot, placing it upon a stone slab, opening a nearby cabinet to reveal the baked biscuits, which were baked fresh every eight hours or so, the leftovers often given out to the servants.

Adilnur buzzed with a question, but he realised it was a terrible question to ask for a man who was only twenty four years old, the kind that would press too much pressure upon his shoulders. Perhaps if the young half elf was fifty or sixty, the Mustashalur would have brought it up, but at this time the young man should enjoy his youth.

As the Malawi finally sat down, he opened the lid of the tea pot, the steam rising in the air, before pouring in a cup of pink milk into the tea, swirling the tea pot in the air gently, before pouring them each a fresh cup of the liquid nectar.

“What is it that you wished to discuss, Executive?” Malawi Hassan asked, taking a sip of his pink milk, before cracking a piece of his biscuit, biting into is immediately, the biscuit crunching for the first few bites, distracting the half elf’s thoughts.

“Firstly, I hope you’re willing to keep my strength a secret, not quite a secret, but if you could not speak so openly about it, I would appreciate it,” the half elf said, his tone neutral, in the sense that he tried to hide the annoyed tiredness.

“We will keep the matter a secret, as best that we can,” the Malawi promised.

“I do not want to spread the word that our strongest warrior was defeated by a man not even half his age,” Adilnur replied more openly.

The half elf smiled, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. “I appreciate that, and I will do my best not to speak so openly about it myself, unlike with how I speak of the Five Moons.”

“Are there others who you have kept secret?” Adilnur asked.

Adam shook his head and waved his hand up to dismiss the words. “I cannot, I cannot, oh Mustashalur.”

“Just call me Mo Adil,” the old man said, chuckling lightly.

“As you say, Mo, but I cannot speak of who else I have defeated, for the sake of so many who I adore,” the half elf replied, saying no more, since he didn’t even want to imply he had defeated the First Hope previously. The half elf sighed, thinking of his wife for a moment, before allowing the thought to pass, so he could finally speak of business.

Adam forgetting he’s actually the third craziest, but we don’t count her because she’s so cute.