Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Daddy, daddy,” a little girl called, reaching out to her father with a hand, her father instantly tensing up. As she clasped his gently hand, she squeezed his finger. “Daddy, we can sleep on the ship?”

“You’d like to sleep on the ship?” Adam asked, holding his daughter’s hand, which squeezed his finger lightly, the girl’s eyes shining with expectations under the purple of evening, those eyes which could spot the stars before even the half fae himself.

“Daddy…”

The half elf glanced up towards his grandfather and grandmother, who nodded, and the half elf smiled reassuringly. “I will convince the Captain to allow us to stay, my dear. However, daddy is being so well behaved, so shouldn’t he get a reward?”

The girl leaned in to kiss her father’s awaiting cheek, and once he had kissed her cheek in return, he offered his cheek to his son, the pair exchanging their affection, spurring the half elf forward, and calming his heart.

“Cousin, I have not lived this long in my life by denying simple requests from Iyrmen,” the Captain smiled, his smile beaming towards the half elf, in a way that suggested he wished to live a long life, for he had live fifty years, and wished to live a hundred more.

“Thank you, Captain,” Adam said, offering him two tiger eyes, causing the Captain’s eyes to snap towards them, though the Captain held up a hand to refuse.

“The Iyr has paid appropriately.”

“It is the gratitude of a father who is able to show off in front of his adorable Iyrmen children, and,” the half elf leaned in to whisper, “his adorable Ray wife.”

The oppression that was the name of Life’s Rose fell upon the Captain’s shoulders, who accepted the gems, and allowed the various Iyrmen to sleep within the various quarters of the large ship, all the while he broke the taboo he had set upon the ship, and drank under the night sky, deep into the night, for though this was a chance for any to drown him and take his ship, the eyes of the Iyrman kept many at bay.

“I would offer you a drink, but I’m afraid it would be disrespectful to an Iyrman currently watching over children,” the Captain said, daring to smile such a cheeky smile.

“It has been decades since poison has been able to take my heart,” the Iyrman replied, reaching out a hand to accept a drink. He was bald, a thick white beard along a strong jaw, kind eyes, and a vicious aura, the kind that caused the Captain to offer the bottle without even realising. The old man raised the bottle above him and allowed a splash to slip through the air to his tongue, allowing the flavours to dance within his mouth. He coughed lightly, the fire within his throat causing him to grumble, and for a moment he could feel the Captain’s deep regret, and could see the thoughts of a prayer within his eyes. “If I had known you were offering me such fine Aswadian wine, I would have drank it conservatively.”

“I hope it was suitable to your taste,” the Captain said, sipping away from his cup.

“It is a fine wine.”

The Captain smiled, for the Iyrman hadn’t said it was good, though he could hear the gentle tone within the older Iyrman’s voice, one who was perhaps one or two decades older. If he was that kind of unarmoured warrior, who fought with his inner energy, rather than one who fought with rage, and if he was as strong as the Captain thought, then he had probably stopped appearing to age at least a decade ago. There were rumours at that stage, one did not even need to drink nor eat.

“May I ask your name?” the Captain asked.

“In the land of the Aldishmen, they called me the the Falling Swallow,” the Iyrman replied. “I am Mal, of the Fev family.”

“I do recall a Descending Swallow, and an Ascending Swallow.”

“Yes, we were called that too, my sister and I,” Malfev said, beaming brightly.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you,” Alaen said, surprised he was the same Malfev he knew of from the tales. “If I recall correctly, they say you fought alongside one of the Grand Commanders of Aldland?”

“I once travelled with Bear Mother Anne who is the Grand Commander of the Steel Bears,” Malfev admitted, smiling innocently. “It had been many years since we last met one another, but due to some unfortunate circumstances, we met once more.”

“Unfortunate circumstances?”

“She came to give her condolences for my greatnephews and my greatniece, the two who remain within the arms of their greatparents.”

Captain Alaen thought of the two, who were green skinned, amber eyed, and yet were considered Iyrmen. It was they who had been killed? Ah! Suddenly, it made great sense as to why so many great figures had appeared. “How are you related to the children?”

“My sister is their greatmother.”

Captain Alaen considered his words, but was too drunk to realise he was saying his sister married the Mad Dog. However, after they chatted in the evening, Malfev was eventually replaced by a stern faced Iyrman, and so he decided to retire for the night too.

As the ship sailed the next day, the half elf played dice with his children, and then went on to play Warriors and Wanderers, noting how relaxed the twins were that morning. Whatever distractions filled their minds caused his heart to ease. Finally, they allowed their father to hold onto them that day, although their babo and nano were never too far, nor were Shaool and Rajin, who were technically assigned to them.

As the fortress welcomed their ships, a fellow stood at the docks, a pair of soldiers flanking his sides. He stood as one might have expected, tall and strong, adorned in a well worn breastplate, a long cape of silver falling over his shoulders, contrasting his copper scales, his copper eyes contrasting his dark skin, his horns curling around his head, almost forming a crown of bone. At his side he wore a sabre, formed of a silversteel, enchanted many years ago, passing from his mentor to himself, and one day he would pass this blade to the next Commander. Commander Dana, tall, strong, Commander Dana, they would often say.

As the Iyrmen docked at port, the Commander awaited their arrival, for he had to do that much, if such a large force of foreign warriors, each of whom could defeat even he, would be stepping into his domain. His eyes scanned across the faces of the Iyrmen, many of whom he recognised due to the various posters which held the information of the one hundred or so older Iyrmen to keep an eye for, which changed as the years passed, and so the Commander held at least five hundred faces within his mind, but he recognised another, for the throbbing within his shoulder could only come from the memory of clashing steel with such a terribly ferocious warrior.

“I thank you for taking good care of my son,” the woman said, who wore a tattoo of a blue circle, flanked by blue diamonds, like several others, from the young man and woman, to another pair who were roughly her age, and then to another two, one an older woman who did not wield an axe, and another whose eyes seemed to swallow the Commander whole, and who was unmistakably the Mad Dog.

“It was my pleasure to meet your son,” the Commander said, his eyes darting to the young fellow who had defeated him so soundly the previous year. “I can see now how he was able to achieve such great power at his age, for you are no less impressive.”

“My son has already surpassed me, having inherited his father’s talent, and his looks.”

“He-,” the Commander began, only to be interrupted.

“Mother would have claimed greater glory, but retired to watch over me,” Jurot stated firmly, tensing up lightly, holding the Commander’s eyes with a glare of his own.

“I have no doubt, and those eyes of yours, I see you inherited them from your mother,” the Commander said, smiling innocently, causing the pair of soldiers to shoot glances between one another.

“Yes,” Jurot said, standing a little taller.

‘I hope Damrot is the same,’ Pam thought.

“I am Commander Dana, the Commander of this humble fort, as granted by the right of Lady al-Yasin of Arisa,” the Commander said, greeting the Iyrmen more formally, his eyes darting between the children, and then to the youngster with the red skin. “It is good to see you again, young kal.”

“Taygak, not kal,” the young Iyrman replied.

“I would dare not speak your name without such a formality, not while within the gaze of the magnificent Flame Brand,” Commander Dana said, greeting the older woman, who, among the martial circles, had branded her name deep into the land of Aswadasad.

Gangak smiled, the kind of innocent smile that said she had come to repay the debts from time ago within this land, the kind that caused the Commander’s heart to shudder, for to see both Butcher Marmak and Flame Brand, it seemed as though Lord Noor wished for him to live a short life.

The Commander also spotted the pair from the Order of Black Mountain, quickly excusing himself to greet them, refusing to consider how ridiculous it was they were travelling with Flame Brand.

“Commander…” one of the soldiers whispered as the Commander led the group to a small section within the fortress. “It’s Butcher Marmak.”

“If you are trying to kill me, please do so in a more merciful manner,” the Commander replied.

“But…”

‘What do you want me to do?’ the Commander thought. If it was just one or two of these Iyrmen, without the presence of the children, they might have dared to settle them down, but when so many Iyrmen were around, especially one of the figures who, completely accidentally, stopped the rise of the Order of the Black Mountain, did they truly wish for him to die? ‘I hope they do not spill any blood here.’

“It is a shame,” said a voice, and as they turned back, they noted who it was that was speaking. “To think everyone we meet wishes to live a long life.”

The green skinned girl turned towards her babo, not her greatfather, but her greatuncle, who wore a greatblade upon his back.

“No trouble, babo, no trouble,” Jirot whispered in their tongue.

“My greatniece, now that we are in Aswadasad, I can show off.”

“It is nano’s turn to show off,” Jirot said, wrapping her arms around Gangak’s neck, cuddling up to the side of her neck.

“Since my greatniece has spoken, I will show mercy,” Butcher Marmak said in the Aswadic tongue.

‘Lord Noor, deliver us into the comfort of your light,’ Commander Dana thought.