Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Her laughter imposed upon them first, and though the sun reached high towards the sky, her shadow remained large. Her skin was dark, her scales darker, like the starless night, a pair of large horns threatening to skewer all those with the malady that was courage, and a blade which seemed to stretch larger than even her shadow. Her black hair fell like a sea of curls, atop her cloak, that which hid the black scales over chain, and a ring adorned upon her finger, but it was the title of one of her parents which was perhaps her greatest defence.

“I heard there were many Iyrmen, but to think there were so many whose faces I recognise...” the tiny woman said, half stumbling towards them, already under the affliction that was day drinking. “If the Iyr has sent both the Butcher and the Black Storm, it seems none may dare to oppress you.”

“Do you have the capability?” Baztam asked, holding her dark eyes within his own, not allowing her eyes to pull away.

“Do I not?” The woman held his gaze. Yet, at this time, not even she was allowed to threaten them, and though she had made a grave mistake, she laughed, thundering through the air. Though she ignored one she shouldn’t have ignored, she sauntered towards a particular figure, stopping before a particular brat. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

The Iyrman remained silent.

“It was you who sent my darling Seneschal back as though he were a wounded pup.”

“We clashed once,” Jurot confirmed, all the while his wife beside him tensed up, feeling the great presence from the woman, for she was certainly not any person to be able to speak to the Iyrmen at this time, nor to threaten her husband, though he remained completely calm and collected.

“So I heard,” the woman said, narrowing her eyes, her lips forming an even wider smile. “What is your name?”

“I am Jurot.”

“Rot? As in Giaroh?”

“I am his descendant,” Jurot confirmed, sitting up a little taller, for finally, he was able to show off in front of his wife in this way too.

“Since I have come all this way, and it seems I have missed the fighting…” The tiny woman paused, her eyes darting around, between the three who seemed to have fought. The only three were those of the Fariq, the Fariq Thanwi, and the half elf. She wondered who had left, one who could make the Fariq like this, for it was probably likely the Fariq Thanwi and the half elf had fought once more. “I have come all this way to eat, but first, I should warm my body.”

“Unfortunately for you, my brother is a married man,” a fool said, now holding the woman’s gaze within his own, the pair glaring into one another’s eyes.

“You must be the one they call the Crazy Father.”

“You must be the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa,” the half elf said, while the two within his arms suddenly sat up, peeking over their father’s arms towards the tiny form of the black scaled half dragon.

‘Should I step forward,’ Kitool thought, for the others had fought quite a few thus far, and she had yet to step forward.

“Okay,” Jurot said, beginning to stand, but before he could say any more, someone spoke up.

“Sit down,” a voice called. The old man lifted up the girl upon his lap, offering the girl to her mother, for the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa, considered the strongest within Arisa, was good enough for him to draw his axe in front of the children.

“Jirot, do you see this?” a fool threatened, for since the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa had come, it was time for that, wasn’t it? “I’ve had an appetizer, I’ve had the main course, but your grandfather, he’s stealing my dessert from me?”

‘What is he doing?’ Chosen thought, his eyes remained fixated upon the half elf’s form, who seemed to be entirely relaxed.

Tanagek also spied the half elf, for he had fought the Fariq, then the Fariq Thanwi, and even if he had yet to take a wound, he was certainly not quite as powerful as he should be to go against the likes of the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa.

“I did not realise you were so strong, to face against the Fariq, the Fariq Thanwi, and then myself?” the half dragon mused, ignoring the glare of the azure scaled half dragon, who was no doubt a dragon in disguise, but then again, he shouldn’t have been caught walking around in the Lower Realm.

“Ah, well, I am a little tired, so I’ll only have a light dessert,” Adam half joked, bringing his children closer to his chest. “Let’s call it a small clash of steel?”

“What a shame, but if you are so confident, I am willing,” the woman said, her pearly white teeth revealed to the world, as well as a wild glare within her eyes which could make one assume she was the Mad Dog’s own sister.

The half elf stood, squeezing his children against his chest once more, and then he leaned down to kiss their cheeks, awaiting their kisses upon his face. “I need a little bit of good luck to face against the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa, even if we’re just clashing a little.”

“Daddy…” Jirot leaned up to kiss his cheek, little Jarot doing the same upon his father’s other cheek, until the pair were settled upon the Mad Dog’s lap, for if Adam hadn’t surrendered them to the old man, surely he would have kicked up a fuss.

Amalrot glanced aside to her brother, finding him almost pressing their cheeks together, and the girl squealed, hiding within her mother’s neck.

“I see? Are you bullying this brother of yours because he’s so weak? It seems I’ll have to show off a little in front of you then?”

“Brother, you will only clash lightly?” Lanarot asked, the girl peeking up towards him expectantly.

“Only lightly,” the half elf assured, much to her dismay, but the half elf smiled. “If you really want me to face the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa properly, we can fight tomorrow morning, but since my duels with the Fariq and the Fariq Thanwi ended only a short time ago, I don’t have the courage. I’ll just swing my axe once, but it’ll be a strong swing.”

“Okay…” Lanarot pouted, but she reached up a fist towards her eldest brother, and once they bumped fists, she crossed her arms, waiting for them to fight.

“You will only swing once?” Salma, the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa, asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, taking the half elf within his sights.

“I will only swing once,” the half elf replied, holding a gentle smile upon his face, but he narrowed his eyes in such a way to dare her to say the same.

“Then, I will only swing once too.”

The half elf’s lips formed a playful smile, and the half elf bowed his head gently, as he considered how powerful she may have been. However, even if she was powerful, it didn’t matter, as the half elf walked to the side, and he placed the shield beside his sister. “Will you watch over my shield?”

“Yes!” Lanarot said, suddenly sitting up taller.

The half elf also handed his helmet over to his wife, the woman eyeing up her husband curiously, before he returned to the half dragon, still smiling innocently, in the way that courted death, the half elf’s eyes then meeting the half dragon’s gaze.

“Just a single swing?” Adam asked.

“Just a single swing,” Salma confirmed.

“Would you like to go first?”

“I will gift you the first swing,” the half dragon said, her eyes growing wide, almost as wide as the vicious grin upon her face.

“Okay,” the half elf said, stepping forward. He stepped as though he were going to the warehouse to procure a sack of wheat for his family. Then, he raised his axe, in the most casual of swings, and swung it downwards. He chanted out the words to a spell, causing his axe to aflame with glorious fire.

Mana: 10 -> 5

Spell: Searing Smite

Attack: Heavy Axe

D20 + 11 = 12 (1)

Omen: 6, 20 -> 6

20 + 11 = 31

Critical Hit!

Mana: 5 -> 0

Ability: Divine Smite

8D6 + 10D6 + 12D6 + 9 = 117 (31)(38)(39)

117 damage!

Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.

The children watched as the flames engulfed his axe, and in a manner that suggested he wasn’t even trying to strike, the axe fell upon the half dragon, who swung her greatblade violently, to meet such a swing, barely able to defend herself as the fire completely overwhelmed her for a moment, and it was her face they saw, the expression of alarm, of not expecting such a terrible blow to fall upon her.

It was that expression he, their father, their brother, their cousin, forced the Sleeping Dragon of Arisa to make.

Even little Amal’s eyes remained glued upon such a sight.

Omen: 6 -> 0

Adam plucked a Thread of Fate.

The half elf remained completely still as the woman swung her greatblade violently, the kind of greatblade that could force even the Black Shark, the Butcher, the Mad Dog, back. Yet, the half elf remained still, as the tip of the sword cut the minuscule space in front of his cheek, and as she held her blade within both hands, their eyes met, her own full of such shock, for she saw within his eyes, he had expected such an outcome.

The half elf smiled wider, and with that, turned his back upon the woman, his cloak billowing in the wind, and walked back to the table, as though he had procured the sack of wheat for his family. He could have used the moment to threaten those of the Amber Blades, or even the Faro herself, but he walked over to his sister. The half elf waited for a moment, peeking down at the girl expectantly.

Lanarot blinked. She turned to look towards her eldest brother. She held his gaze a moment. She blinked once more.

‘Oh!’

“You fought well,” the girl said, and she high fived her brother.