Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“You look terrible,” Tonagek said, sipping his warm milk lightly, settled among the others within the shared estate, surrounded by his family and his family’s families.

“I feel worse,” came the curt response.

Tonagek paused, for he could count on one hand how many times his uncle had said something like that, whether he meant it, or whether he was merely jesting. His eyes then darted towards the Mad Dog, who seemed displeased that morning, and considering how they both looked as though they had felt the cool sting of steel, he could only assume what nightly activities they had participated in the previous night.

Sonarot, noting her father’s displeasure, assumed the pair had fought to a draw. She was partly surprised, for though she had grown up hearing the old man’s tales, he had retired when she was still a child, and now that her own son was roughly his age when he had retired, she had lived a generation when he wasn’t active, unlike her uncle, Duteous Dogek, who had remained active as one of the Ten Paragons, which he had stepped down from, after stepping down from the position of the Gek Family Elder due to a particular matter.

“Darling, you should remain while I finish up some work,” the half elf said, holding onto his wife’s hands a moment, the pair having readied themselves to leave.

“Okay,” Vonda replied, noting the tension upon the half elf’s face, though it disappeared as he thought of a ridiculous joke, though he did not utter the words. It seemed her husband was growing up, the woman thought as she squeezed his hands tenderly, and watched his back grow ever smaller as he stepped away.

“What?” an Iyrman said within one of the many shared estates of the Front Iyr. “Mad Dog, Butcher, and Flame Brand? Are we invading Aswadasad?”

“No.”

“Why are so many are going?”

“Children are stepping out.”

“At this time?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Eight.”

“Ah,” the Iyrman replied. “That is why they are sending Duteous, Bearded Dragon, Bloodblade, and the others?”

“Yes.”

Even speaking the words, the Iyrman remained confused, for the Iyr should not allow any children to step out during this time, especially after what happened, and because of the Reavers.

“Those children are going,” his uncle informed.

“Which children?”

“The Mad Dog’s greatchildren.”

“Oh!” the Iyrman finally said, now understanding why the families had sent over their weapons. At a time like this, it made sense, especially since those who would be leaving would not be any typical Iyrmen.

“How many hours did you work last month?” the uncle asked.

“Almost three hundred.”

“Ah.”

Meanwhile, the nephew thought about how many were stepping out. He had decided to work hard for the first month in order to complete the preparations Elder Forest had put into place, but to step out during such a turbulent time, and to have such a burden pressed over his shoulders of trying to ease the children’s hearts, he was uncertain if he would be strong enough to deal with that. It was no wonder they would send such a powerful force out.

“You should see the children before they leave,” the uncle said, patting his nephew’s shoulder, before getting up, stretching his back.

As the week passed by, the old Jarot kept his promise, allowing his greatchildren to spoil him, even playing Warriors and Wanderers with the children.

“I would tear apart the wyvern’s neck with my powerful muscles,” the old Jarot stated.

“I know, but you aren’t playing you, you’re playing… Jarot the Barbarian,” Adam replied.

“Yes, and I can tear the neck of a wyvern with ease,” Jarot stated firmly once more.

“I know, but you are not playing you, you are playing this character, so I need an Athletics check with Advantage, since you’re raging.”

“A roll? Do you think this grandfather is so weak?” the old man snapped, clenching the die tight within his hand, cracking it apart. “Do you see?”

Adam blinked, turning his head to catch his daughter’s eyes, pouting slightly towards her, then motioning a hand.

“Babo, if you will not play nicely, you can sit in the corner,” Jirot said, sitting up a little taller, crossing her arms.

“To think you would turn my greatdaughter against me!”

“She is my daughter!”

“Draw your axe at once, you brat! Do you not think I will not beat you again!”

“Huu! Dear, your babo is bullying me so much!” Adam called out, peeking down towards his daughter.

Jirot huffed, getting up to her feet and marched up to her greatfather, placing her hands upon her waist, then, in her adorable fury, wagged a finger towards the old man. “Babo! You think it is so easy to bully my daddy in front of me? Daddy always deserves bullying, but this time, he does not!”

“Since my greatdaughter has requested mercy, I will show it to you!” Jarot growled.

“You!” Jirot held her finger against his lip. “You are going to speak more now?”

“…”

“If you are going to misbehave, you must sit in the corner.”

The old man’s eyes trailed to the side. “I am not a child.”

“Huh? You are not a child? How can you say that when you are misbehaving like a child?”

“…” The old man’s heart ached, for how could his greatdaughter speak with such a viciousness, but also, she was too cute, and how if he hugged her now, she would grow upset, and how could she be upset within his arms. He counted to three, and then finally opened his arms, and the girl hugged him tight.

“You are so silly, babo.”

“Yes,” the old man said, nuzzling into her head gently, and then planted a firm kiss on her cheek.

Little Jarot snickered lightly, turning to his father, the pair high fiving. How could the old man think they could defeat Jirot? What a silly old man. Little Jarot, too, hugged his greatfather, the pair upon his lap to assist him in their play.

Adam, like his daughter, showed the old man mercy for breaking the die, but also, how did he destroy a wooden die to dust within his fist?

Thankfully, the twins didn’t seem quite so upset about heading out of the Iyr soon, though at the same time, they were spending so much time with their greatfather, Adam assumed they had forgotten, and he was too anxious to bring it up once more.

As the week passed by, his anxiety grew, for wasn’t it a betrayal for waiting so long to remind them? Would the others judge him for not mentioning it to the children, or would they judge him for mentioning it to them and ruining their days with their greatfather?

‘If they were here, I’d have mentioned it,’ the half elf thought, thinking of his grandmothers.

During the week, the Silver Fate Squad also made their preparations. Nirot continued to train John, though seducing him this way seemed not to work, so she spent some time bringing her younger siblings to the business, in order to find an excuse to also play with the half elf triplets. Thankfully for her…

“Oh my, oh my, who are these handsome young men?” Adam joked, peeking down at the triplets, who all shyly smiled towards him. “You must be so happy now that your father can play with you all day long, huh?”

The triplets all smiled towards John, who could feel their expectant gazes. Though he did play with them more often than before, he was also spending many hours each day training, sparring, and assisting the Iyr with general labour. The young father, a fresh faced youth. His hair was cut short, his face freshly shaved, his dark eyes clear, but wizened from a harsh life, and the journey he took last year, a baptism through Chaos.

“So if you could, you know, help him out with Nirot, I would appreciate that,” the half elf winked, while the boy shyly smiled in return. ‘Damn it! I want to adopt them so bad! If they’re my sons, won’t they be as sweet as my little Karot, Jarot, and Xarot?’

“Do not covet what I have claimed,” Nirot said in the Iyr’s tongue, causing the half elf to meet her gaze.

Adam made to speak up, though paused, uncertain if he should reveal he knew the Iyr’s tongue, and decided against saying anything, instead making the rounds to greet the rest of the villagers.

John, however, was fairly certain the half elf knew the Iyr’s tongue, since Adam was Adam.

Meanwhile, the others from the Silver Fate Squad also continued their own preparations, not quite for their romances, but for their hearts.

Laygak, who had decided to retire the previous year, swung his blade through the air. He stared at his reflection through his blade, and then glanced aside, towards the shared estate in which his sister remained. His sister, who was still considered a child of the Iyr, would soon leave too.

Laygak sighed.

‘Grandfather, it seems I will have to work hard this year too,’ Laygak joked, for he would need to work twice as hard throughout the rest of his life compared to many of his peers.

Unlike all those who would be accompanying him as the rest of the Silver Fate Squad, not Masters, but given permission through the business of the United Kindom, those of Nirot, the Mad Dog’s grandson, Faool, who was the grandnephew of one of the Ten Paragons, Naqokan, whose granduncle, Steel Strike, would be joining them, and Uwajin, who was the Bearded Dragon’s granddaughter. Then, of course, there was Bavin, whose grandfather was the previous Elder Wrath.

He, on the other hand, would represent Gangak, Flame Brand, who at the very least held equal prestige within Aswadasad, and yet, her grandchildren, her grandnieces and grandnephews, currently, did not live up to her name.

No.

That wasn’t true.

Laygak recalled Taygak’s feats in the previous year, for even as a child, she had already surpassed even the likes of Nirot at the same age.

“Papo, look,” Jirot said as the fellow returned from his training, the girl revealing the golden serpent creature which she wore as a necklace. “Yellows has been sleeping for so long.”

“Yes.”

“Is Yellows pregnant?”

“Perhaps she is?”

“I hope so,” the girl said, staring down at the creature. “I think I would make a lovely grandmother.”

Laygak blinked. Not for the first time, he thought he had made a mistake in retiring so soon. ‘I have committed in the path of being undependable, and I cannot regret it.’

Laygak was glad the girl had not yet picked up on the preparations they had made, for he could not see her heart break once more. Thankfully, they moved with Iyrman efficiency, and pretty much anyone within the Iyr could be ready to leave within an hour’s notice, something not uncommon for many of the teens, who would learn to pack swiftly to head out to hunt within the grounds. However, he hoped his grandaunt would return soon, for weren’t they leaving in the next week?

Thankfully, as the end of the week greeted them, so did the ringing of steel clashing against steel.

PATREON LINK

I wonder who is the reason why there’s a fight. 

Insert the meme with Ron, Hermione, and Harry, but replacing them with Adam, Jirot, and old Jarot.