Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The rays of dawnval brought in the hope of a new year, from further east, where Aswadians already began their prayers to their Lord Noor, he who was the Sun. Then the rays shone upon the Aldish lands, who prayed to their many Divine, Lord Noor but one of many, and then the rays fell upon the land known as the Iyr, who gave themselves to Baktu, Lord of Death.

It was this land, known as the Iyr, in which they drew steel as quickly as they drew blood, which Chaos befell.

Her name was Virot.

She held the stature of someone well fed her entire life, her lungs at the very least revealing the great strength which such luxury afforded. She was not four centuries old, nor four decades, nor was she even four years old, this girl, whose ears were leaf shaped, her hair tightened into a pair of pigtails, and on this morning, of all mornings, smelled of dough, and trouble.

“I can’t believe she hit Damrot with her Ult,” the fool said, glancing down towards the boy, who was built as though he were the son of his father, his hair cut short to reveal his rounded ears, and had held the face of joy before Virot had begun to trouble her parents.

“Ult?”

“Like someone’s ultimate ability.”

The fool’s brother nodded, for he was certain he had heard the term before, his eyes falling upon the pair of children, though one’s cries were so much louder. He stared down at his son, whose tears flowed freely, and though he was eager to draw his axe against dragons, it was another to stop his son from crying, for…

‘How cute,’ the fool’s brother thought.

“Virot, stop,” said the young woman, who wore a white modesti which covered her from head to heel, save her tanned face, the lower half of which remained scarred by the kiss of fire when she was a girl, though she held a warmer smile upon her lips. A small amulet lay upon her chest, that of a rose atop a silver sun.

Virot immediately stopped crying, blinking up towards her mother, though puckered her lips into an awkward smirk, for she understood she had been caught.

Damrot remained crying for a short moment, though the cries turned to sniffles, until he felt the rough hand of his hand clasping his, the boy shyly smiling up towards the mountain known as his daddy.

‘Of course it’s you, Virot,’ Adam thought, for how many children would cause such trouble this early in the year? All of them could be counted among his own, or at the very least, should have been counted among his own. He peeked towards the archway of the estate, where a pale skinned boy remained, his horns peeking through his silver hair, his silver tail swaying beneath him. As their eyes met, the boy’s tail stopped swaying, and he quickly disappeared into the comfort of his home.

Virot held her mother’s gaze for a long moment, daring to defy her, but eventually she relented, holding her mother’s hand, the woman quickly wiping her face clean through her complaints, causing the girl to cackle.

“Did you see?” Adam asked, holding his brother’s gaze.

“…” Jurot held Adam’s gaze for a long moment, and upon the half elf’s smirk, Jurot thought to draw his axe.

‘It’s my daughter who troub-,’

“We should return,” Vonda finally said, for the smell of pizza began to seep into her clothing, and she could see the look upon her husband’s face. She hoisted her daughter up, who squealed, and hugged her head so tenderly, a smile of delight painted across her face.

Jurot lifted Damrot, the boy burying his head into his father’s chest, hiding himself from the world. The boy sucked his thumb, for he was within the safest place, losing himself into the moment as his father’s strong arms held him so tightly, these strong arms which could so easily allow him to slip into slumber.

Adam glanced between the pair of them, his wife, his brother, and both of his children, for certainly Damrot was also his son, and yet it was he who did not hold any of his children within his arms?

‘Hold on? Aren’t I the Crazy Father?’

The half elf led the pair to the archway, where home awaited, the long archway leading to a large courtyard within, full of life and food. There were a great many figures who awaited the five’s return, many tattooed, save for the children, and a handful of the adults.

This was the home of a particular family, this shared estate, and the surrounding buildings, each were home to those that were family to a particular troublesome fool. Four of the Iyr’s families made their homes within this neighbourhood, and through one of those families, another two, and a handful of others. The Rot family, like Jurot, typically tan, and who were built well, wielding axe and shield, each Rage Dancers, were typically raised alongside three others. The Gaks were red skinned and horned, typically Fighters wielding a blade and shield. The Ools, slim Martial Artists who wielded staves and spears. The Kans, beautiful so they were, but equally as deadly, the dark skinned Rage Dancers who wielded greatblades.

“Welcome back, mummy! Oh ho, you are back too, daddy?” called the child, her skin green as leaves, her ears shaped so, her short, thick hair barely covering the tips, her amber eyes glistening, and a double pair of canines slipping through her lips as she smirked towards her father. She sat beside another who was near identical, save the boy was thinner, and he smiled more delightfully towards his father.

“You punk, you think I’ll forgive you just because you’re cute?” Adam asked, looming over his daughter.

“Of coas,” Jirot replied, snickering, her twin brother doing the same.

“To think my eldest daughter would bully me like this!” Adam’s heart swelled, for he was so fortunate, there was no one else in this place whose daughters caused so much trouble, and bullied them so thoroughly.

Jirot’s brows furrowed, though quickly, she rolled her eyes, glancing aside to the trio of pale skinned children, each with silver hair, silver eyes, silver horns, and silver tails, whom each eyed up the half elf.

“Hmm? Who are these big, strong, sturdy triplets?” Adam mused, reaching up to his chin, causing his family all to either sigh, cringe, or hide their own snickering.

“Daddy, if you continue, I will not speak with you,” Konarot warned.

“To think my eldest daughter would bully me like this…” Adam dropped down to his knees, pulling his triplets in close, showering them in affection, for thankfully, Virot had trapped his wife, allowing him to claim their affections first. “Happy birthday, my Konababy, my Kibaby, my Kababy.”

“Happy birthday, daddy,” the triplets replied, embracing him in return, doing the same for their mother, who wished them a happy birthday, and the triplets wished them one too. They also greeted their uncle, wishing him a happy birthday after he had greeted his wife.

“You silly girl, did you trouble mummy?” Jirot asked, holding Virot in a tight hug.

“Kaka?” Virot whimpered, pouting.

“Good work,” Jirot whispered, kissing her sister’s ear, causing the girl to squeal, the girl cackling, the pair hugging even tighter.

“Good work,” little Jarot whispered into Damrot’s ear, also hugging him close, causing the boy to flush, though he surrendered himself to his cousin, who he called his brother.

“Seriously, who gave you all permission to grow up?” The half elf said, sighing, his heart aching lightly. He winced at his words, and upon seeing his triplets holding his gaze, the half elf forced away the anxiety. “Since you’re all so big now, what would you like?”

“Ring of Protection,” Konarot said, her siblings nodding their heads.

Adam blinked, the anxiety returning to his heart, the half elf dropping down to hold them all within his arms once more. “Of course, of course, my adorable little babies.”

“Daddy, I am not a baby, I am a big girl now,” Konarot corrected.

“Ah? You know daddy is bad with his numbers. You must be… five?”

“Daddy, you worry me,” Konarot teased, the girl nuzzling her father’s neck, her tail swaying lightly behind her.

“Yes, daddy, you worry us so much!” Jirot agreed, pointing a finger towards her father, so he could not retreat from her wrath. “You are so old now, you must retire, and play with us!”

“What? I can’t just retire yet, my dear.”

“You must!”

“Should I retire too?” Vonda asked, the woman beaming down towards her troublesome daughter with the most warm, and troublesome, smile.

“Mummy, how can you say that? You are so young, so young! You are not a day over twenty five.” Jirot sipped her milk, raising her brows towards her mother.

“When did you become so good at telling jokes?” Adam asked.

“I have always been so good.”

“If your jokes are too good, people will doubt that you’re my daughter.”

“I am mummy’s daughter,” Jirot stated firmly, and now that she was satisfied with bullying her father appropriately on his birthday, she revealed their gift to them all, small necklaces, made of various materials which glittered a thousand colours, from little bits of worthless trinkets, to what seemed to be dragonglass.

The triplets handed their father, mother, and their uncle necklaces, each made of thin chain, by the hands of a great Iyrman silversmith, each with a small token of silver, perhaps worth a half silver at most, but etched with the first initial of their name.

“Happy birthday, brother,” Lanarot said, hugging her eldest brother tight, planting a kiss on his cheek, and a necklace over his neck.

“Thank you,” Jurot replied.

Lanarot did the same for her other eldest brother tight, kissing his cheek, placing a kiss on his cheek, but as always, the half elf smothered her in great affection.

The other Iyrmen nearby also gave their wishes to the young men and the young woman whose birthday it was, having already spoiled the triplets. Then it was time to eat, but before the half elf could take a bite of his pizza, a figure appeared, adorned in the clean cut attire of the Iyrmen, her skin like sanguine, her horns curled back, and a blade dangled at her side. As she stepped forward, a pair of green skinned twins, as well as their younger sibling, and the other child they called their sibling, swamped her.

“Kako! Kako!” Jirot squealed with delight, almost tackling the young woman.

“I told you, didn’t I? I would bring a surprise to you all on the first?” Jaygak said, the young woman ruffling the girl’s hair, and though she wished to pick them up, she could not, for…

“Who is this stranger?” Adam joked, though the young woman only smiled in return, busy playing her four nieces and nephews. “What brings you all this way, Jaygak?”

“Jaygak?” the young woman asked, her eyes scanning across the Iyrmen around, inhaling deeply. “It is Elder Jaygak now.”

An older red skinned Iyrman spat out his drink, coughing, spluttering, furrowing his brows, his eyes darting to meet his wife’s, who also seemed utterly bewildered.

This joke was too much, even for Jaygak.

“Oh, yeah,” Adam said, having all but forgotten.

“You knew?” Vonda asked, pressed her side against his gently.

“Yeah? Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Adam replied, half ashamed, half surprised. “Sorry.”

“It seems you are my first task,” Jaygak continued, as many of the Iyrmen had stood up to congratulate her, but she had so much work to do, and since her first task involved Adam, they would need to do so later.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Adam complained, holding out his hands innocently. After being met with silence, he furrowed his brows. ‘Didn’t I?’

However...

I won't tell you why it's worth it, but it's worth it.