Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

It was an idyllic time within the Iyr, the half elf waking up every morning, exercising lightly with the children, then bathing shortly after. As Adam bathed his adorable twins, his wife watched over their triplets, who relaxed within their own small tub, their water much cooler, far more agreeable to their silver scales.

Adam reached over to wash his twins’ backs, the back of their ears, their necks, as well as making sure they had properly washed their legs and feet, for the residual water was not enough to clean their bodies. Adam’s eyes fell to their scars, and though he had seen them hundreds of times, his hair always stood on end, and his entire body flared up with a need to spill blood.

Wisdom Save

D20 + 5 = 23 (18)

As the half elf rubbed the soap along his son’s shoulder, his heart shuddered. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Jarot replied, furrowing his brows in confusion, not quite understanding what his father was asking.

“Good.” Adam then reached over towards his daughter’s stomach, covering her scar with his palm, pulling the girl close to his chest. “Does it hurt, Jibaby?”

“No, daddy,” Jirot replied, wincing slightly, burying her face into her father’s chest. “It does not.”

“That’s good…” Adam winced, closing his eyes. He was sure it hurt her, but the girl never lied to him, and so he would accept the pain within his heart.

He should have killed them all.

“Konarot, you are washing behind your ears so well,” Vonda said, brushing the girl’s cheek, her thumb trailing along the scars across the girl’s cheek.

Adam remained silent. It wasn’t just once he had failed, he thought, but as Vonda flicked his nose, the half elf twitched, his body jolting lightly as he stared at his wife like a confused puppy.

“Oh my, darling,” Vonda called, smiling innocently. “Are you not washing behind your ears properly?”

Adam blinked, certain he had, but he reached up to soap the back of his leaf shaped ears, for his wife never lied to him.

After drying the children, applying their various creams and lotions, adorning them in their cute little outfits, they ate breakfast together, along with the other families. After, they would often take a short time visiting others, and ate lunch with their families, some times with others, and then after lunch, when the younger children went to nap, they would begin their play of Warriors and Wanderers.

As the resident Game Master, the half elf was required to run several games each day, for there were far too many children for a singular session, and even as the children were assisted by their elder siblings, and their various relatives, it was difficult for the half elf to keep up, or to keep their interests from waning. Thankfully, the children were tender and sweet at heart, and enjoyed spending their time with their siblings, even if they were not entirely engaged with the game, and sometimes, that was all that was needed at the time.

The children also continued their own daily routines, with, without, around, away from their parents.

Konarot loved to read to her father, even as everyone was all around them listened intently, she sat on his lap, leaning up against his chest, snuggled up close, and read the various stories of the Iyr, in which the half elf tried to keep track of the names, but instead allowed them to slip away, like foam atop the surface of his tea.

Jirot loved to play dragonchess against her father, cackling as she defeated him every single time, even when the half elf tried to beat her. Her amber eyes sparkled with such mischief, dominating the half elf, for of coas she was able to defeat her father, for though her father was her daddy, she was the Demon Lord.

‘I feel like this is the wrong way round,’ the half elf thought.

Konarot also revealed the staff her babo had gifted her to him, and then the short form that she had learned over the last few weeks. As she swung her shortstaff, her tail swayed behind her to balance her, even pushing her forward to assist in her thrusts, and as she drew the staff back, she hopped away, her tail sticking up into the air.

‘I wonder if Vasera would be able to teach her how to use her tail since…’ Adam wondered if Vasera even had a tail. He was certain he had seen it previously, but now that he thought about it, she didn’t have one now.

“Daddy, daddy,” Kirot called, kicking the ball towards her father, who kicked it back lightly, the pair rushing along the trail within the park as they played. Then, finally, Kirot aimed a kick towards the wall, except she tumbled over onto the floor, popping up onto her feet thanks to her tail pushing her up, then continued to chase after the ball.

‘What the hell?’ Adam thought, glancing aside to the nearby Iyrman, realising it was Jagek. “Did you see what I saw?”

Little Jagek blinked. He nodded.

“So cool.”

“So cool.”

Adam placed his hands in his pockets, watching as Kirot caught up to the ball, kicked it back towards where she had been, and then blasted the ball at the wall. Jagek, noticing Adam had put his hands in his pockets, also did the same, only to find the half elf clapping, so he did the same.

“Are you okay, Kibaby?”

“I kicked the ball so well,” the girl said, holding up the most confident thumbs up, with the pride of a woman who had returned from war, having slaughtered a thousand and one Iyrmen.

“Did you scratch yourself?”

“No.”

Adam dropped to a knee to check upon the girl, brushing the dirt off her clothing, reaching up to pinch her nose. “You’re such a little tomboy, aren’t you?”

“No, I am a ball.”

“You’re a ball?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Adam replied. “Should I toss you against the wall?”

Kirot blinked. The girl held her arms up, her eyes full of expectations.

‘You are your sisters’ sister.’

Karot, as one might have expected, drew with his father. He drew a great many weapons, painting them too, mostly swords, with a handful of axes, and even armour.

“Do you think this looks cool?” Adam asked, revealing the armour, that with the helmet fashioned into a bat.

“It is so scary.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, smiling slightly. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Kal Uli has lovely armour.”

“He does, doesn’t he?”

“Do you like lions, daddy?”

“I think they’re cool.”

“So cool,” Karot agreed.

“What about you?”

“I like… flowers.”

“What kind of flower?”

“Roses.”

“Oh?” Adam asked, smiling slightly. “Why is that?”

“Mummy is like a flower.”

“She is?”

“No,” Karot said, blinking. “Mummy is like the dawn.”

“Yeah?”

“Mummy is like a ray of the sun.”

“Oh! That’s why they call her Ray Vonda?” Adam gasped.

Karot turned to face his father, blinking. The boy looked down at his painting, furrowing his brow. He looked back up to his father, glad his father was handsome. He reached up to his dad’s shoulder, patting it gently. “Well done, daddy.”

‘Out of all the children to look at me like that, it hurts the most when you look at me like that…’ Adam thought.

“Daddy, can we pick flowers?”

“Do you want to pick flowers, or do you need to use the bathroom?” the half elf joked.

“Flowers, please.”

Little Karot scampered around, Kirot and Karot laying nearby, upon a group of blankets. The girls spoke between one another, allowing their brother his own time, but they remained nearby, as he had done for them.

The boy picked up a flower, revealing it to his father, a flower which was born through the harshness of nightval, and bloomed within the Twilight Month. It was a beautiful little flower, pale petals with a hint of purple, a dark grey stalk, and the softness of his brother’s cheek.

“Oh? What flower is that?” Adam asked, noting the What is that?”

“A purten.”

“A what?”

“A purten,” Karot said.

“How do you know the name of it?”

“It is in the book.”

“Oh, are you reading too, Kababy?”

Karot flushed lightly, nodding his head.

“How amazing! My son, he reads so well too! Will you read to me today?”

“Yes.” The boy held his father’s hand as they walked back home, so Karot could give their mother the flower.

“What a beautiful flower,” Vonda said, accepting the flower from her son, who bowed his head lightly, hiding the wide smile on his lips. “Is this for me?”

“Yes…”

Adam leaned down to whisper into his son’s ear, causing him to swallow, the boy blinking, then flushing lightly once more, unable to speak the words.

“You were flirting about my wife this entire time, and now, suddenly, our little Casanova is all shy?”

Karot blinked.

“Thank you for the flower, my dear,” Vonda said, holding out her arm, embracing her son, kissing his cheek. “It is beautiful.”

Karot looked to his father, considering speaking up, but the boy snuggled up to his mother innocently.

‘You punk, do you think I’ll forgive you just because you’re cute?’ Adam thought, though as his eyes fell to his daughters, he noted the way the eldest pair were staring at their father with a knowing look. ‘Of course.’

Larot would remain by himself, though sometimes would accept his father’s presence upon his morning walks, for though the boy was still a toddler, his behaviour was similar to the elderly of the Iyr, constantly taking their walks throughout the day, though he lacked the will to settle himself with others and speak with them.

“Larot,” Adam began, though he paused to gather his thoughts. “No matter what you were, no matter who you were, no matter how you were, you’re my son. Do you understand?”

Larot turned, noting his father’s face twisted in an expression of such deep pain. He reached over to hold onto his father’s hands, and ignored the tears, for he wore a scar upon his body, but the scar within the half elf’s heart was far greater. The boy understood how difficult he had made it for his father, for Jirot and Jarot, they remained within their father’s arms to soothe their hearts, and the heart of their father, but Larot, he died, he awoke, he walked, and thus was his life.

‘…’

“No!” Virot exclaimed towards her father upon his return. “My mummy!”

“She’s my wife too!” Adam returned, standing opposite the wall known as Virot, who did not allow him to embrace her mother.

“You!” Virot warned, holding up a dagger like finger, the girl glaring towards her father with a vicious look, a look which could kill, if she was not so cute, with the ribbons keeping her hair pinned into twin tails, the painting of petals upon her cheek, the scarf covering the bottom half of her chin.

“Me.”

Virot gasped, turning her head to look to her mother, holding out her arms. “Oh my gosh!”

“Yes,” Vonda replied.

Virot retreated to her mother, holding onto her leg, turning back to look at her father with utter shock in her eyes.

‘What did I do?’ Adam turned to face towards Jirot, who blinked, and then turned to look towards her brother, busying herself with nothing in particular.

“Daddy…” Jarot called, reaching up at hand, holding it within his chubby hand to protect his father’s heart. The boy understood he would need to feed his father later, for even he didn’t understand why Virot was so displeased by his answer, but at the same time, his father probably deserved it.