Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, welcome back, papo,” Jirot said, reaching out her arms to embrace her uncle, who picked up the girl, the pair exchanging kisses. Once she was down, she did the same for her kako, the pair embracing tight, then her other kako, who embraced the pair tight. 

“…”

“Manager Jonn, you have worked hard,” the girl said, patting his hand gently.

“Thank you,” Jonn replied. 

“Kal Vasera, Kal Rook, you have both also worked hard.”

“Thank you,” Rook replied, glancing aside to Vasera, who beamed down with joy towards the girl. 

Jirot stopped in front of one particular figure, peeking up an eye towards the fellow, who grinned down at the girl, causing her to smirk. “Not too much trouble, I hope?”

“Just a little,” Bael returned.

Jirot nodded her head approvingly, then finally, she glanced aside towards the last figure who awaited her adoration. However, the girl turned her head away, standing with her arms crossed behind her back. 

Adam remained silent, taking Jirot’s silence as a cut he needed to accept, for if the girl was truly that upset, he would need to make it up to her. How? He had no decent tale to speak of to her. He also hadn’t brought back anything amazing, nothing he could show immediately, at the very least. 

“Jirot, do you know of Kal Kalim of the Amber Blades?” Jurot asked, staring down at the little girl, holding Damrot within his strong arms. 

“The Elder of Amber?” Jirot replied, tilting her head. 

“Yes…” Jurot paused for a moment, surprised at how many names the girl knew. “I shall speak the tale to you, but first, you must greet your father.”

Jirot side eyed her father for a moment, stomping over to him, hugging his leg, then she turned to face her uncle.

“You must greet him properly, or I will not speak the tale.”

“I am greeting him, I am greeting him,” Jirot said, hugging her father’s leg tighter. “Daddy, did you bring me a lovely gift?”

“Yes, but you won’t be able to see it until next year,” the half elf replied, lifting up his daughter, tossing her into the air, causing her to squeal and laugh. It was then she hugged her father’s head, and kissed his forehead, allowing him to smother her in affection.

Little Jarot was glad Jirot finally greeted their father properly, the boy kissing his father’s ear, hugging his neck affectionately. ‘Daddy…’

Once Adam’s children had greeted him, the half elf greeted his wife, thankfully Jurot kept Virot busy, so the girl did not notice how her father was currently stealing much of her mother’s affection. 

Lanarot gasped upon seeing the familiar forms, rushing up to them, almost tackling her elder brother. “Brothers! You are back!”

“Lanarot, we have returned,” Jurot confirmed, lifting the girl up, who hugged his head so tightly, he was unable to breathe.  

“I missed you so much!”

“We missed you too,” Jurot assured, brushing her cheek gently, fingers trailing through her hair, as the girl smiled brightly. A thought crossed Jurot’s mind, though it was quickly cut, as small blob of blue tackled his brother. 

“Ada!” Amalrot squealed.

“Amal!” Adam hoisted the girl up, grunting as his muscles burned from the effort of lifting the chonky girl. 

“Ada!” Amal cackled, clapping her hands, allowing the half elf to smother her face in kisses, the girl staring up at him with glistening eyes. 

“Are the feeding you properly, my Amal?”

“Yah!”

“Yeah?” Adam smiled, leaning down to nuzzle the girl’s nose, the pair embracing one another affectionately. Adam then glanced down to find Lanarot waiting patiently, the half elf lifting her up again, grunting with effort.

“Brother…” Lanarot held onto her brother’s head as the pair embraced one another so affectionately. 

Kitool greeted her own siblings, Taygak lifting up her chonky sisters and cousins, while Chosen glanced aside towards Tanagek, who was busy embracing his own younger brothers. Chisen stared at her brother, who wouldn’t dare to make her walk over to him, the girl eventually hugging her brother once Chosen had worked up the courage to hug her. 

Jurot waited, allowing his brother to adore all the children who wished to greet him. He passed them each tiny tokens from Arisa, tiny bits and bobs, and they returned his affection with hugs and kisses. 

The half elf held Amal upon his lap while Jurot spoke the tale, a simple tale, for they were only out for a month.

Jirot formed a tiny circle with her mouth in shock, glancing aside to her father, who defeated the Elder of Amber, while then going on to face the Amber Blade, even if he did end up acting all Aldish. 

“Good job, daddy,” the girl whispered, patting the half elf’s arm gently, causing him to flush lightly. 

“Thank you, my dear.” Adam smiled, though it was a strained smile.

Jirot noted the awkwardness in her father’s smile, her brows furrowing, the girl’s eyes darting to her mother for support, noting her awkward smile. She recalled what her mother said about her father, about the wounds within his heart, so the girl reached over towards her father’s hand, clasping her fingers around one of his, all the while listening to the tale. The girl did not understand the true depths of her action, but she knew her father would not be upset when she held his finger, he would not dare to be, and he would know, of the love she held for him, even if she did not speak it. 

The others had noticed it too, how the half elf had swallowed down his emotions, and even then, he swallowed them down, but they could see it, how the half elf melted against his seat, wearing Amalrot upon his front, held by his troublesome daughter. Yes, it was that troublesome daughter who would keep away the darkness which oozed from the half elf, for she would bully it out of her father’s heart. 

It was upon this evening when he had finally returned back to his own home too. It was the gateway, rising high on top of the hill, walling off the entrance to the mountain. The light and shadows danced along the manes of the large carved statues. Then there were those in their black armour, their helmets forged into the shape of a lion’s face, the chain dangling down like the mane of the lions. 

“Brother Uli, you have finally returned?” a figure called, blocking Uli’s path as he made his way to report to the Mustashalur. The figure was adorned in a similar armour, her own helmet the same as Uli’s own, silver, with golden trim around the eyes, and as she took off her helmet, she revealed her face, lightly scarred over her eye, her eyebrow split into two, though she wore the most gentle of smiles upon her face.

“Sister Ayra, I have returned,” Kal Uli confirmed, his voice wary, for he must report to the Mustashalur, who must have been informed of his arrival, which was slightly later than expected due to a few matters he needed to complete on the way back. It would already be difficult enough to explain why he was so late, especially since the information was so sensitive. Thankfully, it was Ayra who had greeted him, the woman escorting him towards the Mustashalur. 

“I heard you were sent upon a secret mission to do with a group of Iyrmen,” Kal Ayra said, her eyes beaming with interest. She was one of the few figures within the Order who was a touch empty headed, but in the best way, for she was not the kind who plotted, and she was loyal to the Order, meaning she was the perfect Black Lion for the sake of dealing with Black Lion matters.

“Yes…”

“Do you return with good news?” 

“Yes,” Kal Uli replied, though the uncertainty in his voice was evident. 

Ayra did not push deeper, instead speaking of what he had missed, which was very little, save for the fact that the Poison Sword Dragon had headed north to deal with the Reavers, and had already slain a number. She also informed him of Scholar Muh and Two Finger Demon had headed northward too, not quite entering the battlefield, but assisting in the region in case the Reavers stepped onto the land. 

‘The Two Finger Demon?’ Uli thought. Poison Sword Dragon, Scholar Muh, and Two Finger Demon, each were figures beyond his own power, and even if he fought beside Kal Ayra against even one of them, at least one of them would die if they did manage to suppress one of the trio. If all three were moving, especially the Two Finger Demon, it was quite the boon for Aswadasad. 

Uli had been deep in thought when he came face to face with her. Tall, built more like a bull than a lion, with a large blade upon her back. She was dark, rugged, her round face holding a great beauty, her long hair curly, silvered with age. 

“Mustashalur!” Uli greeted, standing at attention.

“You are late!” the woman accused, grinning wide, ready to mete out appropriator punishment. 

PATREON LINK

I hope at some point in the future, preferably within the next 1000 chapters, I can write up a scene with multiple monstrous figures fighting. I know at the beginning of Y06 there was something, but I need more. 

Blood for Lanarot!