Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Adam, I require your assistance,” Jurot said.

“You need my help?”

“In this regard, you are the greatest,” his brother admitted.

“Ah,” Adam said, fairly certain he knew what his brother was talking about.

Uli escorted the pair through the market, where many eyed up the Black Lion, as well as the figures beside him, each who seemed to be Iyrmen, one who certainly was. They traversed through the various markets, the open aired tents, the wooden stalls, the smooth round buildings, each draped in various colourful scarves, and even more colourful people.

“Kal, Noor bless you, how may I help?” a young merchant asked, whose bodyguard consisted of a man who was known to be decent at brawling, but was nothing compared to the various guards which many other merchants possessed, but then again, he did only sell wooden chips.

“I am escorting these friends,” Uli replied simply, eyeing up the chips.

“Noor bless you, young man,” Adam said, in perfect Aswadic, the half elf motioning a hand towards every wooden chip, engraved with various symbols, some of the divine, others of various families, some with prayers. “My brother and I would like to buy half of your product, depending on its price.”

“Mo, for you, each is a single copper,” the young man said, smiling, beginning to pack up some of the chips, while leaving those which had taken him much longer to one side, for rather than engraving something simple in the middle, his brother had engraved the entire chip, from edge to edge, the token a three dimensional symbol or word, with the outer ring connected.

“How much for these?” Adam asked, noting the chips which were so finely crafted.

“For you, Mo? Five copper.” The merchant smiled, knowing he was about to make a great loss.

“No, no, how much is it normally, my friend.”

“Usually, we sell for one silver, six for a beht.”

“How about this? I’ll buy all these that cost a silver, and you throw in one of the simpler designs for each one?”

“Shukhur, Mo, if that is what you wish,” the merchant replied, for though handing over something for free wasn’t the best for his business, he would at least not make much of a loss, but as he priced out the items, selling a great many to the Iyrmen, the half elf placed down an additional gold coin, slipping it into the merchant’s hands.

“Young man, I hope you continue to remain so good of heart, and I will do my best to come by any time I’m around,” the half elf said, bowing his head gently to the merchant, who had tried to refuse, but was unable to deal with the storm known as Adam.

Jurot realised just how many objects of wood they were buying, uncertain if he should take it as a swing to his pride, as he preferred to craft such items himself instead of buying them. However, before he could mention it, the half elf brought him to another stall, covered in fabrics, with various scarves, belts, and pouches made from fabric, each with various embroidery.

“One copper, one silver, one beht, and,” the woman said, revealing a scarf which was entirely covered in flowers, each flower filled with embroidery, while the rest of the scarf was rather plain, “one gold.”

“Sister, I am here to spend as much coin as I reasonably can,” the half elf said, placing down a small pouch filled with gold coins.

The pair continued spending far too much gold, or as Adam would say, not enough gold. They hired a few children to assist them with carrying the goods, in which the half elf also gifted them various items, and made sure they could eat their fill, and spoke with their elder brothers and sisters, who probably weren’t their elder brothers or sisters, but who would, he hoped, protect them and their coin, and tipped them a gold each to watch over them, while praying over them, kindly, but it was obviously a threat.

As they returned back to the inn, a chill entered the air, and suddenly, specks of white fell onto the capital of Northern Aswadasad, the half elf pausing as he allowed the snow to tickle his face. The half elf smiled, standing there for a long moment.

“Jurot?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think the kids are having fun in the Iyr?” the half elf asked.

“They will play in the snow after their schooling,” Jurot replied. “The eldest will enjoy themselves greatly, and…”

“Yeah?”

“Virot will have much fun, for her elder sister will make sure of it, and her elder brother, he will be sure to make sure they do not push themselves.”

“Of course, my Damrot, he will also have fun too,” Adam said, letting out a soft sigh, smiling towards the whitened sky.

“…”

“Our kids are the cutest.”

“Yes.”

Adam thought of his children, hoping they were happy in the Iyr, knowing they were, and then he thought of the three, little Damrot, little, chonky, Monarot, and Pamarot, who was still far too young. “Jurot, do you…”

“Yes?”

“Are you happy that I've matured not to ask stupid questions?”

“It is the way you are.”

Adam remained staring at the sky, and at this time, Uli could feel something simmering under the surface, something darker than perhaps even Adam realised. “How dare you, you punk! How dare you steal Damrot from me!”

“…”

“It's not fair if your children are so cute, you punk! My children are allowed to be so cute because I'm stupid!”

“My children are allowed to be so cute because their uncle is stupid.”

Adam huffed, glancing to the side, but side eyed his brother, in the same way his daughter would. “Good point.”

“Do my eyes deceive me?” a rough voice called out. “It is Mo Adam, of the United Kindom?”

“If it isn’t ahm Bear of the Mountains,” Adam called out, reaching out a hand to clasp his, the pair grinning wildly. “Have you come for that drink I owe you?”

“Must I seek you out for such a drink?”

“I apologise, I’ve been rather…” Adam chuckled sheepishly. “Ahm, allow me to buy you some drinks.”

“I am currently escorting the miss,” the Aswadian replied, his eyes darting to Jurot. He nodded his head, causing Jurot to nod his head in return.

The miss, the woman in her forties, who was particularly tiny, glanced up towards the half elf and the Iyrman, then towards the Kal, bowing her head towards him.

“Now that I think about it, we’ve got quite some coin to spend, and you are a merchant, so is there any chance we can browse your wares?” Adam asked.

“Mo Adam, if you are in the market for books, then of course we are willing to sell books to you,” the woman said.

“Oh! We do need to buy some books, we always do when we pass by a large city such as this, so please!”

The woman, Aliya, allowed them to accompany her, while noting the eyes of many upon them, for if they saw Zayan, the Bear of the Mountains, then the tiny woman was certainly the daughter of the wealthiest book merchants across Northern Aswadasad, and perhaps the entirety of Aswadasad.

Adam eyed up the giant building, made of smooth sandstone, easily larger than even the fortress, and many of the inns he had stayed within. He noted the large number of guards, and as he stepped within, a blanket of warmth spread across him. The half elf then realised this was not just a bookstore, but a library, for the between the staircases, there was an open door to a large area where one could pluck a book from the shelves to read.

“Miss Aliya, welcome,” one of the workers said, bowing her head lightly.

“I have come with guests,” Aliya said, motioning a hand towards the pair, only to spot a figure glancing their way, and not just any figure, but that fool of a man. He was of average height, but thin as a pencil, wearing a pair of round glasses, simple shalwar, and a small hat that covered his short hair, his beard trimmed short, typically once a week by the hand of one of the many servants of the household.

“Darling, you have returned!” Tamil called, rushing up to the woman, though Zayan slapped his shoulders, stopping the man from greeting his wife so embarrassingly in front of everyone.

“Tamil, settle down, before you embarrass us,” Aliya whispered.

“Haha! I’m sorry, darling, I just wanted to show you what I found,” Tamil said, revealing the book, opening it to a particular page, tapping it. “Do you see? Lady-,”

“We have guests, Tamil,” the woman said, already at the end of her wit.

“Don’t,” Adam whispered.

“I did not say anything,” Jurot replied.

“I could feel you thinking it.”

Jurot, who did not speak Aswadian, still understood the situation between the pair before him.