Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Man am I glad you’re here,” Adam said, sipping the soup lightly, the spice dancing along his tongue. “I should have gifted you a set of knives while in Arisa.”

“The knives I have now are fine enough,” Korin replied, breaking apart a piece of his flatbread, scooping the curry with the bread. “I am just glad it is good enough for our little Amira, Amal.”

“I should have expected that you loved all this spicy food,” Adam teased the rather large little Amal, who eagerly accepted the flatbread and curry from Adam’s hand, since it was rather awkward for her to eat it herself, just in case she rubbed her eyes with the spice against her own chonky hand.

Jurot’s eyes slowly fell to the side, towards the chonky girl, wishing to feed her too. He narrowed his eyes, with the understanding he would need to request Kitool’s support in order to claim the girl. Of course, he could always put the girl to sleep. However, there was one major reason as to why he couldn’t…

‘Don’t worry, Amal, no one will be able to steal you from me,’ the half elf thought, rubbing his cheek against hers. The fool of a father was his normal self when he was feeding the girl, but whenever Anka took her away, the air around the half elf darkened.

As they trekked through the forest, the purple of evening illuminating the land, the military outpost remained hidden away, still out of sight. It was fortunate they all travelled upon so many carriages, otherwise such a journey would have remained perilous.

“Hm,” Bael mused. “Stop the carriage.”

“What’s up?” Adam asked, reaching down towards his axe with a hand.

“I can sense a lone figure,” Bael said, stepping out of the carriage, pointing a finger. “The scent of death has yet to come.”

‘What does that mean?’ Adam thought.

Kitool and Faool stepped out to see, since they were swiftest of foot, their bodies disappearing into the forest around them.

“Adam,” Faool shouted, beckoning the half elf into the forest.

‘I wonder if that’s an illusion?’ the half elf thought, stepping deeper into the forest, finding Kitool and Faool over a body. His skin was a pale red, his face harried by bird and bug, his horns long, silver tipped, adorned in fine robes, though dirtied from the forest. His chest faintly rose and fell, as though he had fallen asleep there.

“He requires healing, and water,” Kitool informed.

Lay on Hands: 45 -> 35

Adam’s magic slipped through, instantly bringing the young devilkin into consciousness, through with a dry breath.

“Sip slowly,” Adam said, holding his waterskin to the fellow’s lips.

“Oh…” The devilkin blinked, groaning in pain, the colour having drained from his face, various marks across his face.

“He may be diseased, or poisoned,” Kitool said, trying to figure out how the fellow had found himself lost, though he was a stone’s toss away from the nearby encampment travellers often used.

Lay on Hands: 35 -> 30

Adam sent out his magic, those of his Oathsworn abilities, which could cure certainly afflictions with a healing touch. The devilkin panted for air, shuddering lightly, before glancing between the trio above him.

“Shukhur,” the devilkin said, his head pulsing, his entire body flashing hot and cold, his thundering heart calming down the rest of his body, eventually relenting to reality. “Many blessings.”

“Hello there,” Adam replied. “Many blessings to you, kal. What brings you to sleeping in the middle of a forest?”

The devilkin chuckled, hearing the familiar term, his eyes darting around. “My companions are gone?”

“Oh,” Adam replied, no longer smiling. “Well, alright then. We’ll escort you to the nearby outpost at least. They probably passed that way, unless you were making your way to Storm Port?”

“To Ever Green,” the devilkin said, taking a moment to try and understand Adam’s words.

Adam smiled, switching to the Aswadian tongue. “You may join us to Ever Green then. I am Adam, High Alchemist of the United Kindom.”

“Ah? You speak the tongue of gold?”

“I am very rich,” Adam confirmed, assisting the devilkin up.

“Shukhur, my family is as blessed,” he said, wincing. “I am from Batna.”

“Where is that?”

“Do you know of the Zuhdi Ejirate?”

“I do, yes, the place with the paper?”

“Paper, bows, all things made of wood,” the merchant chuckled. “I am Grace.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Grace,” Adam said, holding onto the devilkin’s arm as he escorted the fellow out, towards their carriages.

Upon seeing the carriages, then realising how many Iyrmen were about, he smiled, only now confirming they weren’t bandits.

“Laygak, Korin, mind keeping an eye on him until we get to the outpost?” Adam asked, giving him up to the pair, who would be able to keep him proper company. Also, they probably would know what to say and what not to say.

“Thank you for your kindness, though what could one expect, when there are those of Black Mountain and the Iyr in abundance around me?” Grace said, letting out a long sigh of relief, for either there were so many fine figures about, or he was about to be brutally slaughtered by bandits who dared to pose as such.

That was until he saw Vasera.

‘Eh?’

It was a small outpost, home to a regiment of a hundred soldiers, each who wore lighter armour, and wielded bows of fine wood. They were those who would watch over the nearby land for a year, replaced by another group, for the task was not as strenuous as typical soldier duty, and the post was considered a break most of the time.

Except when such a group would appear, such a large group of figures, in so many carriages, it almost always spelled trouble, especially when it was not flying a noble’s banner.

The Commander took in the sight of the various carriages, holding a large number of figures, he estimated roughly half the size of his own outpost. However, upon seeing the drivers, he narrowed his eyes, calling for his personal knights to appear, one of whom brought his sword.

As the carriages stopped, the Commander called out, his voice clear, full of pride. “State your business at once, travellers.”

The door to a carriage opened, and stepping out was…

An Iyrman?

‘What kind of being has the Golden Savages and Iyrmen as their guards?’ the Commander thought, all the while the young woman approached. She wore a tattoo, the bottom half of a semi circle in blue, as well as red ovals, hollow as their hearts, no doubt.

“My name is Kitool,” the Iyrman said. “May I approach?”

“You may state your business where you stand.”

“We are currently escorting children of the Iyr back to the Iyr.”

‘Ah,’ the Commander thought, and with that, the gates opened, allowing the carriages through. He waited, however, to see it with his own eyes, seeing the young teen, as well as the toddler, held by a half elf in purple.

A half elf in purple?

“Bastara!” shouted a voice, as a devilkin quickly charged at Grace. “Where were you?”

“I thought you abandoned me!” Grace exclaimed in return.

“We only noticed once we had arrived at the camp,” the devilkin admitted. “The soldiers said they could not find you.”

The merchants quickly greeted their companion, the guards of the merchants sighing in relief, since though it was technically not their fault, they would have certainly been held to account.

The Commander thought about confronting the half elf in purple, but then considered the many guests within the fort, greeting them one by one, for it would have been disrespectful of him to ignore those of Black Mountain and a Black Lion of all figures.

“I am Commander Hugh Highflower, Sergeant of the Fifth Regiment,” the Commander said.

“Kal Uli of the Black Lions,” Uli replied.

“I have heard great things of the Black Lions from the King,” Hugh said.

‘Did he say his name was Highflower?’ Uli thought, recalling the name. “It is my honour to hear that our name is well respected. Are you, Commander Highflower, by any chance related to the King?”

“We are distant relatives,” Hugh confirmed. “You might know of my cousin, Sir Harold, the Honeysuckle Sword.”

“I have heard of such a great warrior,” Uli said, making the decision to not mention how he knew that name.

“What brings you all this way?”

“I am currently escorting the group back to the Iyr,” Uli stated simply, though he knew Sir Hugh understood there was something deeper than that.

“If you require…” Hugh looked to the side, towards all the warriors around currently escorting the group to the Iyr. “If there is anything you require, you have my ear.”

“I am grateful for your offer,” Uli replied. Judging by Hugh’s presence, he assumed the fellow was much stronger than himself, certainly a Grandmaster. ‘The King and his family are impressive.’

“Sir…” a knight whispered once Hugh was free.

“There are Iyrmen children involved,” Hugh replied, informing the knight all he needed to know. Then his eyes darted towards the half elf in purple. ‘…’

Meanwhile, in the Iyr, there were Iyrmen children involved.

A scream filled the air, not the kind that was full of fear or hatred, but the kind filled with such excitement.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” said the tiny girl. “Did you miss me?”

“Kaka!” Virot rushed over towards her sister, almost tackling her, before then actually tackling her, causing the girl to fall back, only for an Iyrman’s hand to stabilise her.

“Oof!” Jirot groaned. “You silly girl.”

“Kaka! Papa!” Virot almost bounced within the girl’s arms, making it hard for them to kiss her.

The triplets also rushed up to the twins, with Karot calling out for his younger brother, hugging him close, the pair nuzzling each other’s necks, Karot’s tail swaying almost violently behind him. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novèlfire.net

“Gosh, you silly girl, how can I kiss you when you are jumping so much?”

“Kaka!”

“Since it is my fault, I will forgive you,” Jirot said, holding Virot’s head still and kissing her forehead, before greeting everyone, who swarmed the twins excitedly.

“Mummy…” Jarot called, holding her hand.

Vonda smiled, holding her son’s hand, brushing the back of it tenderly. “I missed you so much, my Jarot.”

“Mummy!” Jarot hugged her tight. “I missed you too!”

“J-Jarot! Jirot! You have returned!” exclaimed the crippled Iyrman, whose metal leg struck the floor loudly as he scrambled over to lift them up, daring to steal them from their mother as the old man hugged them close to his chest.

“Babo!” Jirot hugged his neck, kissing his cheek, her twin brother doing the same.

“You! How could you leave me for so long?”

“Sorry, babo.” Jirot hugged his the old man’s head. “Three days is too much!”

“Three days? You were gone for so long, my dear Jirot.”

Jirot furrowed her brows, turning her head towards her greatmothers, waiting for them to explain.

“In order to help you, you needed to sleep for a long time,” Gangak explained.

“Do you hear that, babo?” Jirot asked.

“Yes?”

“Jarot and I sleep so well!” the girl exclaimed proudly.