Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Adilnur sipped his pink tea, considering the half elf’s words. He was certain his presence pressed upon his brother, who knew not to make grand statements before him, especially considering his position as Mustashalur. Not even the Shen could act upon his own, needing to speak with his advisers, the other nobles keeping him in check, while the Mustashalur, Malawi, Blades and Sheaths all kept one another in check too.

“We will certainly consider the matter,” Adilnur said, peeking towards his brother, noting the stress and annoyance upon his face. It was good that he was wise enough to not reveal it so openly, but how could an elder brother not notice his little brother’s expressions?

“Alright,” the half elf replied, taking a moment to realise how casual he was with the pair. “I appreciate that you are taking my words seriously.”

“How can we not?”

“Well, I mean…” 

“I understand,” Adilnur said, smiling wide, for there were many who had eyes, but could not see. Adilnur, however, thought of the young man, and what his presence meant. 

“I’ll give you time to mull this over, but I have a small favour to ask…”

Bael stretched his neck from side to side, beaming as the Malawi allowed him to face the two strongest Sheaths, the pair eager to fight the half dragon, who was undoubtedly a dragon in disguise. Their blades gleamed brightly within the air. 

‘Don’t say I don’t do nothing for you,’ Adam thought as he watched the trio fight. Bael’s fists crackled with lightning as he fought the pair, focusing on Nadia first, while Fatima’s blade threatened him. Though the pair stood tall and strong, the clash of steel against scale filling the air, the flashes of blue lightning crackling around them, even they could barely contain the nightmare that was Bael. It was a storm of a battle, the pair forced back with every clash, even as their great magic exploded against Bael, he remained almost an ever looming threat. 

A particular harsh punch knocked Nadia back, denting her armour, the woman kneeling with her blade loosely within her grip. As she tried to force herself up, she found her body refused to listen, only drawing her closer to the darkness that was unconsciousness. She inhaled sharply and placed a finger upon her neck, sending warmth through her veins, catching her breath as she healed herself from his onslaught. 

“Gah!” Fatima grunted aloud, her sword gleaming brightly, glancing off the half dragon’s forearms, the scales shining brightly a moment as they reflected the holy light. The woman’s brow glistened with sweat, and as Bael’s fist, engulfed in lightning, threatened to crash against her, she spun upon her heel, almost dancing around the warrior, her blade flexing through the air, like an uncoiled serpent, as she struck the half dragon’s chest, the holy magic bursting forth. 

Bael skid backwards, punching the floor to stop himself, cracking the earth beneath, the wild half dragon grinning like a beast, but his eyes went from azure to white for a moment, almost falling unconscious from the explosive blow. The half dragon tensed, flexing his muscles tight, but as the moments passed, his entire body relaxed. 

Fatima panted, sheathing her blade, bowing her head. “It was my honour to face you, Bael.”

“Yes,” Bael replied, flexing and wincing, rolling his shoulders. He turned, grinning towards Adam, before his eyes fell to Kizwolima, who pouted. “What?”

“I thought you were strong, mister Bael…”

“I am strong!” Bael called out in Elementi, his voice strained. “I fought two Sheaths, each of whom are able to clash with the various Princes.”

Kizwolima turned her head to the side, her eyes full of doubt at the half dragon, who dared to suggest the surface dwellers were anywhere near as strong as the royal family, who were so strong, so big and so strong, and so strong and so big. 

“Kizwolima, stop teasing Bael,“ Adam said, tickling the girl’s nose. “Bael did well, considering he fought not one, but two of the Sheaths, and two of the strongest Sheaths. He’s right, too, they’re each about as strong as Prince Merza, I would know.”

The girl glanced aside, reaching for her piece of fruit, eating it slowly so she had an excuse not to speak and express her doubt. 

‘This kid has the audacity, huh?’ Adam thought, the smallest strand of guilt entering his heart, for he understood how she had managed to gain such an audacity. 

Tanika’s eyes fell upon the half elf, who had mentioned Prince Merza’s name, and then her eyes darted to Bael, who had fought two Sheaths, at once, and had managed to defeat one, and take the other to the brink. ‘What kind of monsters am I travelling with?’

The First Blade was glad, in his own way, that the Second Blade hadn’t fought, for he wasn’t sure if they could allow both of their strongest Blades to fall to some random fellows who had turned up one day. His eyes fell to Dunes, the young man settled to one side, sipping his tea lightly, chewing on the raisin flatbread, offering some to Amal, who shoved the bread into her mouth eagerly, the girl chewing it slowly without a worry in the world.  

“Amal, you should eat more, you are too thin,” Dunes joked, but the girl eagerly accepted the Priest’s fingers, allowing him to feed her, the girl reaching to the bread poking out of her mouth, shoving it further in slowly as she chewed. The Priest understood quickly the flashes of genius the half elf possessed, especially in these moments. 

If only he could reveal such in his normal everyday life. 

As the sun reached the zenith, beating down its rays upon the group, they settled to eat. The Blades and Sheaths returned to their duties, the First Blade and the two Sheaths each taking the day to rest and meditate upon their fights, while the Second Blade kept the group company.

“Yes, she was my grandfather’s cousin,” Aziz admitted.

“My greatfather met him once,” Kitool admitted. “Greatfather said though she was considered the Third Blade within Black Mountain, her swordplay was unmatched.”

“She was taken too soon, for she should have taken the title of First Blade in her generation,” Aziz agreed, shrugging his shoulders. “It is Fate.”

“I will take you to meet with Mo Taher,” Adilnur said, deciding to take the day off from his typical affairs, which were already so distant from the day to day operations of the Order, though they were all glad for it, considering how much influence the old man could potentially wield.

Adilnur escorted the group, in its entirety, down towards the lower levels, where many other workers continued about their typical routine. They approached a larger open area, where large gardens flowed towards the four cabins, which flanked each side of the central square, where a small trio of older men, two almost venerable, sat, playing a game of dragonchess. The youngest, his hair whitened by time, watched the pair, eating his snacks. He was fairly thin, though held quite some muscle, except for his left leg, which was so much thinner, while his right hand was missing his middle and ring finger, as well as half of his pinky. 

Adilnur turned, realising how many of them he had escorted, smiling mischievously towards them. He made to speak, but thought better of it, instead motioning a hand to the servants who had followed, allowing them to bring the tables and chairs for them all to sit, while the elderly duo completely ignored them. 

It was the man with the missing fingers who stood, grabbing his walking stick, pressing upon it lightly as he stared towards the red skinned Iyrmen. “It is you, of the Gaks, I know.”

“Asaym, Kal Taher,” Laygak said, taking the lead. 

“Is Flame Brand your grandmother?” Taher asked. 

“Our grandaunt.”

“My grandmother, though,” Adam said.

“Yes,” Taher said, noting the look within the half elf’s eyes. “I see that.”

Adam flushed lightly, standing a little taller. “Are you the First Blade’s brother, then?”

“I am.”

Laygak motioned to Taygak, tilting his head towards the half elf, and the young woman leaned in. “Grandaunt left him with his his great injuries.”

Adam stopped smiling. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Taher said, smiling wide. “It was your grandmother who fought me all those years ago, and it was your grandmother who took my fingers from me, and gifted me this limp, leaving me to die.”

“Well…” Adam began, feeling the gaze of the pair of Iyrmen assigned to him, tickle the back of his neck. “What did you do?”

The elderly men playing dragonchess burst into laughter, one slapping his knee, the other keeling over the side of his chair, hacking and cackling with laughter. 

Taher smiled too, bowing his head lightly, for he had been caught so easily by the half elf. He thought back to the time when he was young, back when he was still a rising star, ready and eager to take the title of the greatest First Blade in history, for who could deny he was that talented?

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