Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Adam, as he had done so for the last few years, decided against spending much coin within Red Oak. 

“If only the Gentle Heart was here, I could have snapped his neck!” the old Jarot exclaimed, feeling the annoyance rise within him as they stopped at the gates. “Nay! Tell his brother to clean his neck at once! I will slaughter my way to the top of the Three Hundred Blades!”

Rajin held little Jarot upon his lap, which had sparked the rant, but it was also because the child were technically barred from moving through Red Oak, not that the Countess would dare to stop them this time after her mistake last year, and, thankfully, she hadn’t even tried to stop Adam during his journey since. 

Little Jarot turned up to look towards Rajin, who held his gaze, and the boy smiled innocently, leaning back to rest his head against his greatuncle’s chest, only for the old man to breathe in heavily, pushing the boy’s head forward. Little Jarot turned up to look towards his greatuncle, who held such an innocent gaze, but the boy was his sister’s brother, so narrowed his eyes and cackled. 

Little Jirot sat upon her greatmother’s lap, for the last leg of the journey was taken with extreme prejudice, the children remaining within the grasp of the Iyrmen assigned to them, even Lanarot, hearing her grandfather rant, remained trapped within his arms, but of all the children, it was she who enjoyed hearing her grandfather’s kindly words. 

Amalrot stared up towards Ashmir, who glanced down towards her, and the girl glanced away shyly, and once more, she glanced up towards him, and he held her gaze, and once more the girl glanced away. “Papa?”

“Your brother is within another carriage.”

“Mama?”

Ashmir turned aside, to find Sonarot peeking down at her daughter, and Amalrot turned to find her mother beside her, and she twitched, reaching out a hand to grab her mother’s face, smiling, squealing, her eyes so full of delight, and as they clasped hands, the girl threw out a fist in delight, cackling once more. 

Konarot, Kirot, and Karot remained with familiar faces, from the Twin Sun and Moon Dragons, to the Black Shark, who kept a hand wrapped around little Karot, while his right hand was at the ready to draw his greatblade, and even with one hand, he could cleave well. 

Sokikez did not hold her child within her lap, for Taygak was a little too big, though certainly, if she told the girl to sit upon her lap, she probably would. 

Adam felt his wife’s fingers slip between his, and the two held one another’s hand on the way back, the carriages rolling so slowly, making their way to the outpost, in which they would impose upon the soldiers. Unfortunately for them, another Commander had taken the place of the previous Commander. 

It was he, Death Dog, one of the most loyal hounds, who stood tall and proud in his dark armour, his face pale as a cloud, his eyes clear as day, his hair like a blood moon, and as Duteous approached, the fellow raised his hand, and snarled violently for him to halt. 

It was then Duteous understood. 

“What business do so many Iyrmen have to travel within such a caravan of carriages within our lands?” Death Dog called. 

“We took our children to Aswadasad.”

“Aswadasad? Those dark dogs who broke the ceasefire to strike at our navy?”

“I was informed King Merryweather broke from Aldland due to Aldland breaking the ceasefire with Aswadasad,” Duteous replied. 

“What do you know of our politics, you savage?”

“I know you are Aldish.”

“…”

“…”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Our steel is savage,” Duteous confirmed. “Your ideals are savage.”

“How dare you speak such words!” The Commander raised a fist, and as he opened up his fist, he swallowed Duteous within his hand. “If you are behaving with such a wicked heart, you must surrender at once.”

“I will inform the caravan of such,” Duteous replied, and with that, he turned upon his heel, and he donned his helmet as he returned. 

“Who gave you permission to turn your back?” Death Dog called, and yet Duteous did not stop, and Death Dog turned, motioning a hand towards his archers, who knocked their arrows and drew. “If you do not stop, I will consider it an act of aggression.”

However, Duteous was already at the carriage, and he knocked once, and only once, and thus the doors of the carriages opened, for the Iyrmen had heard of the commotion. 

“Mulrot,” Shaool called, having left Jirot’s side. 

Mulrot reached up to pinch her grandson’s nose. “It seems we will have to leave the children in your hands and within the hands of the business.”

“Right? Adam replied, and as his grandmother smiled, the hair stood on Adam’s end, and the whistling filled the air before a chorus of arrows struck the side of the carriage. 

“You must continue along your way after a minute,” Mulrot stated warmly, and with that, she stepped out of the carriage, and as the horses of the first carriage disappeared into nothingness, it mattered very little, as no children had remained within the first carriage, as the Iyr had designed. 

Adam was about to lean out of the carriage, but he heard the sounds of steel against steel, and he turned towards Vonda, who remained silent. He was about to say something, but considering the Iyr, and what had just happened, for even he couldn’t believe it, he reached an arm around his wife. 

Vasera remained silent, and the Twin Steel Sabres, too, remained silent, as those of the business were informed by the nearby Iyrmen of their role, and with such respect, they understood the consequences of their failure. 

The air within the carriages was so.

The air outside the carriages was so.

“Mad Dog must be furious,” Marmak said, his greatsword bisecting one of the archers in half, a crimson haze taking to the air. 

“No,” Rajin replied simply, cutting another, as those who were swift of foot assisted beside them, as Shaool, Mulrot, Malfev, Shayfev, Okvar, and Takvar, each led the way to deal with the Archers. 

“Iyrmen! Enough!” came the shouts from the walls, as a small group of heavily armoured figures leapt from the walls, each carrying their sheathed blades in hand, though as they landed, a group stood in front of them, those who had emerged from the shadows. “I am Seventeenth Blade Darren.”

“I know of your name,” the Iyrman replied, with pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and the brightest of smiles upon his lips. He wore a spear upon his back, and at his sides, thin blades, though much of his body was left to the imagination, for he wore shadow upon him. 

“Who are you?”

“Samool, Captain of the Fifth Death Swords,” Samool replied, still smiling. 

“It seems a misunderstanding has brought the Iyr to commit such a mistake,” Darren said, having yet to draw his blade, but as the screams around them continued, his fingers twitched. 

“It was Aldland which shot first.”

“Will you not step back?” Darren asked, holding Samool’s gaze. 

“If the Three Hundred Blades wishes to involve itself, it may,” Samool replied simply, holding the warrior at bay, for he was the Seventeenth Blade, and was a step between Master and Grandmaster, and it was he, Samool, who would be his opponent, and the Seventeenth Blade would understand the might of the Captain of the Fifth Death Squad, who was not merely between Master and Grandmaster. 

It was only when Duteous cut the head clean off Death Dog, did the fighting finally begin to die down, and as the Aldish dropped their blades and spoke the words of surrender, they found the Iyrmen took no quarter, not this day. It had yet to be a minute, but Mulrot returned back to the carriages, which were about to make their way, and she smiled, covered in blood as she noted the way the children clutched to their father, and the way their father held such a wicked glare, and even her husband, who was only kept at bay thanks to the triplets pinning him down, and then there was her granddaughter, who was kept pinned within her mother’s bosom, while the other stared up towards her ahm, though her ears twitched at the distant screams. 

Mulrot reached over to pinch her grandson’s nose. “Jirot, how can your father think such rude thoughts about this greatmother of yours?”

“Nano! You are okay?” Jirot called, reaching up to grab the woman’s wrist, tears gleaming in her eyes. 

“Jirot.”

“Nano.”

“There were only a handful of Masters.”

Jirot blinked. 

Mulrot smiled.

“Oh…” Jirot rubbed her eyes, feeling such a fool for crying. 

“We thought, perhaps, there may be a few additional Masters, but there were only three or four, and Death Dog, who is between Grandmaster and Paragon, and your babo Duteous dealt with him with such ease, how could you worry?”

“Sorry, nano…” Jirot pouted. 

“Even if your babo is weak, you cannot think he is so weak to lose to one who is not even a Paragon.” Mulrot tutted, and she pinched her greatdaughter’s cheeks. 

Adam let out a soft sigh, and the anger slipped away, instead replaced by uncertainty, for if the Iyr slaughtered so many soldiers, didn’t that mean…

“To think that even Aldland has forgotten…” Mulrot mused, and with that, she understood the next few months would be full of such blood.

It was within the carriages, the others, many who were not Iyrmen, remained. 

“It seems the Aldishmen have chosen to learn a lesson this year,” Chosen said, smiling innocently towards Vadim. 

“Do you know why they did such a thing?”

“If it was Death Dog, it was because he is Death Dog, who has not liked we Iyrmen for quite some time, but even so, he should have known.”

“This is the Iyr,” Vadim said to his grandson, who was so pale, and yet decided against acknowledging the world around him. 

Korin glanced aside to Sara, who stared at her palms. “We will have to spoil our nieces and nephews further.”

“Yes…”

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Death Dog? 

He sure did.