Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Miss Vasera!” Jirot called, charging up towards the woman, her amber eyes sparkling towards the figure who shared the same heart as her own. “Are you training?”

“I must, especially during this month.”

“Ah? Since this month is the Twilight Month?”

“Aye,” the woman replied, allowing the girl to climb up onto the table, for though the girl was not allowed to trouble others this way, her father allowed her to trouble Vasera so.

“In this month, magic is full of Chaos, so you must be careful, miss Vasera.”

“I will try my best, but…”

“Even if you are troublesome, you cannot in this month,” Jirot warned. “Do you understand?”

“I understand?” Vasera replied, not quite committing to the girl.

“You see, because we, the people of the world, wound Nahtu, the Beast Waves shall appear during dawnval, but during the Twilight Month, it is when the world balances itself, by Ritetu’s will.”

“Did you know we Oathsworn hold a special connection to such a month?” Vasera asked, as little Jarot half lay upon the table beside his sister, holding onto her trouser sleeve.

“It is because in this month Oathsworn are also affected, but your Oaths remain ever present and pure.”

Vasera raised her brows, impressed by her knowledge, though as Jirot continued onward, speaking of the various ways magic were affected by the month.

Konarot sat opposite John, since her little sister had requested her support in trying to claim the children as their own cousins. Her eyes remained glued to John’s, while little Karot settled himself with the triplets, the trio remaining near their father, each surrounded by the various toys their father and another half elf had bought for them.

“This is a horse,” Karot explained. “This is a cart, because it has two wheels, one, two. This is a wagon, because it has more wheels and can carry more. This is a carriage, because it is prettier, and is for moving people. Wagons can move people, but they are better for goods.”

The triplets blinked.

Kirot blinked too. She glanced towards her sister, who was bullying John with her silence, then Karot, who was speaking with the boys. What was she meant to do in this situation? Kirot jolted slightly, glancing aside to find the hornless, red skinned boy settling himself beside her, the boy acutely aware of the many gazes upon him.

“Larot, are you okay?”

Larot nodded.

“You must use your words,” Kirot said.

Larot remained silent.

“I tried,” Kirot said, shrugging her shoulders, but she hugged her younger brother and kissed his cheek. “Even if you cannot speak, Jirot will speak for you.”

“Kaka, what is wrong?” Jirot asked, hearing her name, the girl climbing down, with the assistance of little Jarot, and as she held Jarot, he leapt down with ease, holding her sister’s hand as they sauntered their way to their siblings.

“Nothing.”

Jirot looked aside to Larot. “Are you lonely? Okay, we will play with you. Kaka, Larot is lonely, so we must play with him.”

“Okay,” Konarot replied, the children suddenly showing mercy to John as they dragged their younger brother away.

Larot blinked. ‘It is said no good deed goes unpunished.’

The half elf’s gaze remained on the businessfolk, uncertain if he should step forward to greet them properly. Thankfully, his wife had already addressed them all, so he decided to leave them be to enjoy their time, settling himself into a corner.

“Excuse me, Executive, ah was just jesting,” Tork assured, settling himself opposite the half elf, reaching down to a gourd to pour him a cup of tea. “Ah never thought ah’d be able to wield such a fine weapon, but ah saw the Little Boss was feelin’ a little down, so ah though to tease you.”

Adam accepted the tea, raising his cup towards the horc, sipping it lightly. “Tork, after our year together, I am certain you should become a Lead, along with your brother, and with that comes certain privileges, certain luxuries, and, also… I think it’s a good point you raised. You were born and raised in the north, and, though I’m sure there were a few issues, the temple raised you well, and Lady Tempest has probably watched over you your entire life. I think a sword that is based in storm is probably more suitable for you, so for now, keep a hold of the sword, and you can trade it in later for such a weapon in the future.”

“Is the tea tha’ good?” Tork joked.

“It’s pretty good.”

“High praise from you, Executive.”

“You know, I always find the fine fold of the northern persuasion to be more my speed,” Adam admitted.

“Ah don’t want ta offend, but to call we northerner’s, folk, is often not taken well.”

“Oh,” Adam replied, raising his brows. “I’m very sorry, Tork, I had no idea. I didn’t, I never meant it like that, it’s just a casual way to say people where I’m from.”

“Ah know yeh mean nothin’ by it.”

“I didn’t, and, knowing that the word is not appreciated, I will do my best to not use it any longer.”

“Ah’ve no problem with yeh usin’ it, Executive. If ah did, ah wouldn’t be here.”

“I have a problem using it knowing it’s not a respectable word for such a respectable fellow,” Adam said, leaning in slightly. “I appreciate you mentioning it.”

“Ah didn’t mean ta make it a big deal.”

“Where I come from, mutual respect for one another is a big deal, or at the very least, that’s how I was raised.”

“Thank yeh, Executive.”

Adam held out a fist, and Tork paused a moment, but recalled how Jirot liked to punch people’s fists gently, so did the same.

“So, Tork. You, uh… you know?”

“What?”

“You know…” Adam cleared his throat, about to ask, though furrowed his brows. “Uh, nothing.”

“…”

“Alright, well, I’ll be sure to get the sword to you some time next year, maybe the year after. Also…” Adam paused. “Sorry, I need to talk to Jurot.”

Tork nodded, watching as Adam slipped away, the half elf’s brows furrowed deeply.

“Jurot, why haven’t we played Warriors and Wanderers with the kids of the business?

“I do not know.”

“I might be an idiot. I mean, we really should have done it before.” Adam rubbed his chin lightly, inhaling deeply. “It would be so useful.”

“Yes.”

“Also, we need to figure out a nice sword for Tork and Mork, one that’s storm based.”

“Okay.”

Adam pulled out his journal, quickly jotting down both notes. He glanced aside towards his children to one side, still bullying Larot. Then his eyes wandered to his wife, who was holding Virot in her lap, the pair glaring between one another, Virot cackling with laughter when she was unable to help herself. Her son, Xarot, was holding onto his babo’s knee, the old man brushing his hair. Xarot cackled brightly, hiding his face into his greatfather’s stub.

“I need to world build,” Adam said.

“The greatest disease for a GM?”

“You know it.”

Jurot watched the half elf slip away to write down notes, a bout of inspiration sparking through him, but he understood the desperation which fuelled Adam’s arms.

“Who is that?” Rowan whispered, motioning his head to the short haired red skinned Iyrman who stepped within, causing the singular child with the most power within the business to rush over towards her.

“Executive Jaygak,” Jeremy said.

“The weak one?”

Jeremy tilted his head slightly, awkwardly smiling. “The weakest of the Executives perhaps, but she did defeat Sir Roseia.”

“Who?”

“The King’s Sword’s granddaughter.”

“What?” Rowan gasped, for this entire time he had heard the various tales of the Executives, but Jaygak’s tale seemingly had been the least impressive. “What curses do you speak?”

“I was not there, but it was two years ago now, during the nightval tournament.”

“You are milking my sheep.”

“I understand, but…” Jeremy raised his brows, motioning a hand to the business around him.

“Everyone agreed she was the weakest.”

“Among the Executives, it is true. She is the weakest compared to Executives Adam, Jurot, Kitool, but she is still a Master. Even compared to the likes of Chosen and Tanagek she is considered above them, for she is a Master, and Chosen and Tanagek are not so.”

Rowan made the same face many Iyrmen had made upon the realisation that Jaygak, yes, that Jaygak, was technically considered stronger than Chosen and Tanagek, yes, that Chosen and Tanagek.

“I thought…”

“Yes?”

“I thought the good sirs, Chosen and Tanagek, were both considered geniuses, talented in the art of steel.”

“They are.”

“The Executive was not considered so,” Rowan stated, for he knew that to be true.

“Yes.”

“…”

Jeremy shrugged his shoulders, as if to ask what Rowan wanted him to say. “I travelled with him for a few years and I fought a great many beasts, but it was Executive Jaygak who always stepped forward before I did so, and if I managed to earn the title of an Expert, it would be much easier for an Iyrman to claim the title of a Master.”

‘This doesn’t make any sense.’

“Kako, look,” Jirot said, pointing towards her father. “You see?”

“I see,” Jaygak replied, for she saw.

“What?” Adam replied, blinking towards the trio, whom sighed at his response.

PATREON LINK

I really wish I wrote more meaningful scenes like these.