Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Gentle Sky: 1 -> 0

Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2

Attack: Gentle Sky (Advantage)

D20 + 10 = 16 (6)

D20 + 10 = 19 (9)

Hit!

Mana: 34 -> 33

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8 = 28 (15)(5)

28 damage!

Attack: Gentle Sky (Advantage)

D20 + 10 = 26 (16)

D20 + 10 = 28 (18)

Hit!

Mana: 33 -> 32

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8 = 29 (16)(5)

29 damage!

Onward Soar: 1 -> 0

Mana: 32 -> 31

Spell: Thunderous Smite

Attack: Gentle Sky (Advantage)

D20 + 10 = 11 (1)

D20 + 10 = 15 (5)

Miss!

Attack: Gentle Sky (Advantage)

D20 + 10 = 26 (16)

D20 + 10 = 26 (16)

Hit!

Mana: 31 -> 30

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 2D6 + 8 = 42 (17)(8)(9)

42 damage!

Health: 124 -> 64

An explosion of magic rang through the arena, the clash of magic, magical steel, and two who could not lose, one for the sake of his honour, his Order, the other for the sake of living.

Kalim, considered the third strongest within his Order, could feel it as their magical steel clashed. Though his greatsword was larger, the ambercule glistening under the noonval sun, the blade was not quite as heavy as the magical axe within Adam’s grasp, nor was his heart as heavy as the half elf’s.

“Noorhabi! It seems I underestimated you, nephew!” Kalim declared as the might of their magics exploded, thundering around them, threatening to force the old man back, but his thighs burned, forcing him ever forward.

“I apologise for not being so forthright,” Adam replied, barely able to control his voice, almost shouting as the ringing of steel drowned out their words.

“However…” Kalim began, chanting the magic of his Oath, “I cannot allow you to defeat me so easily, for what would my granddaughter say?”

Adam winced as the figure’s blade forced him back, their clash warning him just why he couldn’t let down his guard. This old man wasn’t just a simple figure, for he was the figure they had sent out to face the strongest of the Duchess’ hired warriors, but there was something else. Even after facing against Adam’s axe, the young half elf clearing even his own damage, he did not seem to stumble backwards. The half elf had done more than enough damage to make a typical Master consider surrender, but for this old man to step forward, it caused his heart to burst aflame.

‘I’m sorry, ahm, but I’ll need to use you as a stepping stone,’ the half elf thought, gripping his blade tighter.

Fighting Spirit: 2 -> 1

Health: 64 -> 69

Attack: Gentle Sky (Advantage)

D20 + 10 = 18 (8)

D20 + 10 = 24 (14)

Hit!

Mana: 30 -> 29

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8 = 28 (15)(5)

28 damage!

Attack: Gentle Sky (Advantage)

D20 + 10 = 17 (7)

D20 + 10 = 26 (16)

Hit!

Mana: 29 -> 28

Ability: Divine Smite

4D6 + 2D6 + 8 = 27 (12)(7)

27 damage!

‘It seems the rumours about this young man…’ Kalim thought, barely able to fend off the onslaught of the half elf, as the might of the young man’s blows rumbled through his blade, the divine magic rushing through his bones. He inhaled sharply, stepping forward to swing his blade, and yet the old man found his body frozen.

‘…’

Adam held out his axe towards the old man, feeling the sweat of effort threatening to push through to his clothing, but as the seconds passed, and the old man remained standing in place, the half elf exhaled.

“You fought well, Kal Kalim.”

“I apologise, it seems my body refuses to listen,” Kalim replied, half in surprise, for the half elf had managed to defeat him in a couple of exchanges at most, in a way that suggested he was the kind of figure who could use the greatest of smites with every blow, and yet, certainly, he had only used a typical Divine Smite in their clash. His axe, it was heavier than his blade, that much was for certain, but was that why?

‘No,’ Kalim thought, for the half elf, with rumours ablaze across the land, across the Orders, was not simply so powerful because of an axe, nor was it simply because he could survive the likes of even his blade. There was something else.

Victory!

XP Gained: +500

The crowd remained shocked, for they hadn’t expected some random fellow, adorned in purple armour, to defeat the likes of Kal Kalim, considered among the top three strongest within the Amber Blades, the figure called the Elder of Amber.

How could this be?

“The Kal fought well,” a figure said, the kind of figure who, realistically, should not have sat within this tower. He was tall, strong, handsome, his short hair, which his wife had complimented upon his return, and he wore a set of tattoos upon his forehead some were familiar with. He, who sat here, in front of many who held great titles, but none of them of the Iyr. “There are few who have brought my brother so low.”

“Why are you hiding your smile?” Chosen asked, reaching out to slap Jurot’s arm. “Is it illegal for you to smile when your brother claims victory?”

“I am smiling, within my heart,” Jurot replied, causing Chosen to pause, the young Iyrman then bursting out in laughter, since when did his cousin become so cute?

Tanagek stared down at the half elf on the stage, who thanked the Amber Blade for the honour of facing him, he who was considered among the most powerful within his Order, even compared to many other Orders. With the thunderous applause, the commonfolk cheering for something they saw which was considered once a decade, perhaps once a century. It seemed as though a weight had fallen off the half elf’s shoulder, not quite as tense as he had been since their arrival.

As the half elf escorted the old man to the top of the tower. Kalim had accepted healing from the half elf, and had returned the favour, but his thoughts remained upon the half elf who assisted him to the top of the tower, where he found his Fariq waiting for him.

“Fariq, my deepest apologies,” Kalim replied, with a warm voice, playful and tender, strained lightly by the effort of facing against a force of nature.

“What is there to apologise for?” the Amber Blade replied, watching the half elf step aside, leaving Kalim in peace. “You fought well, young hero.”

Adam paused a moment, turning to face the Fariq of the Order of the Amber Blades, the one known as the Amber Blade. “Kal, it was my honour to face such a great hero.”

“I saw your blade, and I wish to test it, if you are willing,” the Fariq said, feeling something emanating from the half elf, the kind of potential which caused his heart to flutter.

‘Oh?’ Adam smiled, feeling the annoyance begin to rise within him. He had just finished fighting and he was already challenged to a fight? “Since the Fariq wishes to step forward, what can I do? If you give me an hour to rest, I will be sure to give you a decent fight.”

‘An hour?’ Idris thought, smiling wider. “Oh my, what a confident hero. I am excited to cross blades with you.”

‘Seriously, all you Fariq bastards, you think you can bully me just because you’re strong?’ the half elf thought, fuming, returning back to his companions.

“You may rest until the evening,” the Faro began, feeling the awkwardness in the air. She hadn’t expected the half elf to place the time only an hour away, for wouldn’t the next day, or the day beyond be best? However, if he was that confident, she couldn’t disrespect his request. “I shall prepare a suitable field for the spar.”

“Thank you for your grace, Your Grace,” the half elf replied, bowing his head gently towards her, the half elf settling himself beside his companion.

“Okay?” Jurot asked.

Adam frowned slightly, still fuming, tensing up, the half elf trying his best to calm his heart.

“Adam,” Kitool called. “The Fariq did not mean to suggest you fight immediately, but that he wished to cross blades with you, for the honour.”

The half elf blinked towards his companion. “Oh.”

Kal Amina spied the flushing half elf, who was a figure that defied all expectations. To think, someone as young as he, this figure who she had heard only through rumours, could dare to face against the likes of Kal Kalim, figure three decades her senior, a contemporary of a great many legends from both Aldland and Aswadasad, but also a figure who could make various great warriors step back just through his name.

“It is no wonder you were so confident, nephew,” a voice called, of a figure who was wrapped in bandages, though had been half healed by the magic of the Priests.

“Confident? Against Kal Kalim, the Elder of Amber? I may be a fool, but I am not that much of a fool.” Yet, though he spoke such words, he could feel it, the gaze of the figures all around him, for he was Adam, the Crazy Father, who had defeated Kal Kalim, Elder of Amber, and certainly, the rumours about him were true.

Adam had originally thought the audience wasn’t important as he clashed with Kal Kalim, but it was then he realised, his victory had been important, but the audience were equally as important, for now, finally, he had won against the likes of Kal Kalim, Elder of Amber, in the eyes of the world.