Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Within the soft glow of the lantern, within the comfort of a child’s home, Amalrot peeked up to her mother’s face, though swiftly hid away, the warmth of her mother’s arms wrapping around her, the girl squealing quietly. 

“Do you remember this city?” Sonarot asked. “I hear your brothers spoiled you while you remained.”

“Mama.”

“I see.” Sonarot smiled, picking the girl up, feeling her arms flex lightly. She would need to return to training soon, for in case the girl managed to grow even more swiftly, at least her mother should be able to lift her until she was tattooed. 

The girl sucked on her thumb, her head upon her mother’s bosom, the girl’s eyes slowly falling, though she looked up to see if her mother was still there, smiling once more, and after a dozen more times of them meeting one another’s gazes, the girl finally fell asleep. 

Yes.

She was her sister’s sister.

It was under the stars, the moon, and the eyes of the countless Divine, the Iyrman swung his axe through the air. The power within the axe tingled through him, for it was this axe which he should have wielded with great pride, and yet he was still too weak, a great shame on his family, his ancestors, his people. 

‘To think I would lose with Thirsty Sanguine in hand,’ the Iyrman thought, though it was not a simple thought, it consumed him. At least this axe, that was the thought, for if he had been granted permission to wield it, shouldn’t he have defeated Kal Fadi?

It was not arrogance that made Fakrot think this way. 

As he trained, another joined him within this half of the courtyard, for others had taken the opposite side, not wanting to interrupt him. 

Gorot held out his large greatsword, though it was not a simple greatsword. It was one of the Yah family’s greatswords, and not just any greatsword of the Yah family, but one of the few you might consider to represent the Yah family. Gorot was not quite powerful enough to wield it to its full might, but it was this blade which was the minimum to step out of the Iyr at this time. 

The pair swung their weapons, their silence heavy. 

The ringing of inexperienced steel rippled towards them, all the while, young Taygak swung her blade, but it was Elif who kept her company, the young woman blinking, for why was it that she was being bullied by the Iyrman this time?

“Good,” Taygak said, bowing her head. 

‘Good?’ Elif thought, certain she understood the word, although Taygak then spoke in the Aswadian tongue, not quite fluently, but for a singular word, it was more than enough. ‘What does that mean?’

Lani was glad Taygak hadn’t requested for her assistance, for she wasn’t sure if she was able to take responsibility for Taygak, especially when she was within Raining Bow’s sight. 

“Sword, come,” Taygak called.

“Taygak,” the older Iyrman warned. She wore a bow upon her back, standing tall and proud, her tattoos of a vertical infinity and hollow semi circles, just the top halves of each, both symbols each ice blue. Her eyes were sharp, like a hawk, and though she was known as one of the greatest archers, the thin blade at her side was not for show, for is was one of those of the Wyj family. 

“Sword of the Lady, please,” Taygak said, blinking lightly. “Taygak… I… would like… to cross blades.”

It seemed as though many would struggle to sleep that evening.

The ringing of steel was a delight to the Iyrman’s ears, perched upon the edge of the gate, half melted into the shadow, for he wore a cloak of shadows. He had pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, a brighter smile, a spear upon his back, a pair of blades at his side, though within a blink of an eye, his blades crossed, meeting the tip of another blade, and though the blades were stuck, he let go of the handles, and drew his spear. 

“Captain Samool,” a voice called, stunning Captain Samool, Captain of the Fifth Death Swords for a moment, long enough for death to claim him. Thankfully, though the older woman had beaten him senseless as many times as the sun greeted him within his life, she was not here to kill him. 

“Commander,” Samool called, snatching the handles of the blades, sheathing them at his side once more. 

A moment of silence fell between the pair. 

“How may I assist?”

“I have arrived to assist,” the woman said simply. She was adorned within near black attire, and also wore the wide brimmed hat, hiding much of her face, including her tattoo. She was not one of the Death Swords, instead, she was the Captain of one of the Peace Swords. 

“I will inform Shaool.”

“I will remain…” The woman turned, and with that, she leapt away from the estate, slipping from shadow to shadow, until finally standing opposite the old woman, who was only a thumb width taller than her, yet at least twice as wide, her bulging muscles hidden behind her white clothing, though still not enough to hide her great strength, a pair of axes at her side, at the ready to hunt, in case the white clothes did not do enough to stave off another’s stupidity. 

Their blood thirst tickled one another as they stood within arm’s reach. 

“She sent you too?” the old woman in white asked, narrowing her eyes, though her lips formed a wild grin. 

“Yes,” the old woman replied, for to send two… 

“Oh?” called a voice, the grey skinned Iyrman approached the pair, also adorned all in white. “Saywir, Difan, what are you doing here?”

“She also sent you too, brother?” Difan asked. 

“What a coincidence!” Takvar smiled wide, and the other pair wondered for a moment if they were sent to watch over him instead. 

The trio approached the estate, in which Captain Samool answered, as though he hadn’t seen them from the top of the gate. “What brings such esteemed guests to this humble estate?”

“If his jokes are that bad, you really were the one to train him,” Difan said, about to step in, only to find Captain Samool of the Fifth Death Swords reaching for his blades. 

“Captain Samool, we have come to assist you,” Takvar said, revealing one of the small tokens of Elder Peace, allowing the Captain to relax, who accepted the letter from the Iyrman. The grey skinned Iyrman smiled at the other pair’s gazes, for hadn’t he been sent over to watch over the other two? 

“I have received the command,” Samool said, returning the letter back to Takvar. ‘At this time?’

Shaool, having sensed the trio, awaited them, standing between them and the rest of the estate, while Shasen and Tarukan both stood beside her, and Takvar handed over the token to them, as well as a small letter, which the woman read, returning it back to the Iyrman once she had commit it to memory. 

Karmin, having sensed the presences, had stepped out, only to spot those three. He paused a moment, narrowed his eyes, thinking about whether or not it was the right time, and then realised it was the worst time possible, for the twins were not within his arms. 

“What are you three doing here?” the Chief’s cousin, asked, but though he was the Chief’s cousin by family name, these three, too, were Elder Peace’s cousin, though technically that was not the case, for she was not a Kat, but Elder Peace. 

“We are here to escort those of Black Mountain,” Takvar said, revealing his orders so readily to Karmin, since Karmin would definitely draw his greatsword if he was to follow the typical procedures. 

“…”

“…”

“You should come back tomorrow,” Karmin said. 

“We must-,”

Karmin placed a hand upon Takvar’s shoulder, shaking his head, who then looked out to Shaool, Shasen, Tarukan, and even Sokikez, who each made sure to tell him to leave with their eyes. 

“Okay,” Takvar said, for if they were willing to delay Elder Peace’s orders, it must have been serious. Takvar then bowed his head toward Kal Lani, who was currently under the mountain of stress known as the Iyr. 

The trio swiftly left, and they were lucky for it, for as morning soon came, the reason why they had to step away was preoccupied, as his grandson suddenly jolted awake, feeling a strong hand against his chest, pinning him to the wall. 

“Do you wish to fight?” the old man asked.

“Yes,” Jurot stated, for that was the only response that was acceptable, even as the thoughts began to come to him clearly, his eyes trailing to the side to find Pam and Lanarot watching over him curiously. Jurot then stared at his hand, feeling the ache that was facing against such a figure. The difference between them was like a bear and her cub. 

As the pair stepped out, they spotted Shaool and Kitool also stepping out into the courtyard, which was more than likely. 

“Tell them to wait another fifteen minutes,” Karmin informed Samool. ‘That should be enough time to allow Jurot to soften that damn Mad Dog.’

PATREON LINK

Iyrmanly business is important, but Jarot is a menace.