Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Omen: 6, 20

“Should we expect anything stranger than three hydras?” Adam asked, cleaning the various scales. They left the hides over the walls to dry out, with Lady Sara and Dunes watching over them. They used their magics to speed up the process of drying the hides.

Jurot began to list a large number of creatures, some which Adam was familiar with, and others which sounded like jibberish. Meanwhile, Korin was making all manner of facial expressions upon hearing the names of the creatures.

“Noonval elks are prized, but we should not expect to come across them until next month,” Jurot said. “There are also flamehounds, which are extremely common, and hold great fiery magics innately. Most possess cores, and some possess more.”

“More?” Adam asked.

“They possess Living Fire, but that is rare.” Jurot gave Adam a pointed look, as though he fully expected to come across such an item with Adam at his side.

“I see,” Adam replied, slowly nodding his head. “What’s the most dangerous creature we might come across?”

“A Dragon.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“They will not wish to face us unless they are powerful, since we are too many, and we possess such great magical weapons.”

“Will we really split the hide with the other Aswadians?” Korin asked.

“I said we will, so we will,” Adam said, simply.

“You’re quite honest.”

“I have to be,” Adam replied, firmly. His lips formed a coy smile. “My brother’s an Iyrman.”

Jurot nodded, confirming the words. Korin smiled in response, nodding his head slowly in return. He stared at the pair, glancing between the Half Elf and the Iyrman. He had heard the tale of how they had met, though there seemed to be something greater between them than just what he had heard.

“I wonder if Lanarot is enjoying the festival,” Adam thought aloud. “You think she’s watching the fights?”

“She may,” Jurot replied, thinking about his little sister. The tiny girl who enjoyed watching the fights more than perhaps any other Iyrman he knew. “She will scream well.”

Adam threw a look towards Jurot, frowning slightly. “Jurot, you can’t corrupt my children like you’ve corrupted Lanababy.”

“I have not corrupted her.”

“How can you say that when she’s so thirsty for blood?”

“She is an Iyrman,” Jurot stated, as though it were obvious that she would be thirsty for blood. “Even the most docile Iyrmen become thirsty for blood if the situation calls for it. If the Iyr is threatened, or if a child of the Iyr is killed.”

“When was the last time a child of the Iyr was killed?” Adam asked, cautiously.

“The last time was Churot,” Jurot said.

“Oh…” Adam remained silent.

“The time before that was seventy years ago, in Aswadasad,” Jurot said.

“In the mountains,” Korin confirmed. “Beyond Severtain and the Order of Ten Blades.”

“Oh man,” Adam said, smiling slightly, before dropping the smile when he recalled they were talking about dead children. “It must have been a big deal if you heard of it.”

“It was.” Korin thought back to what he knew of the situation. It was something which had put the Shen in such hot water, and had such deep consequences for Aswadasad.

“What do you know of it?” Jurot asked. Since he was from Black Mountain, he surely knew much of the story.

“I heard, uh…” Korin began, trying to find his bearings. “I heard that a child was killed in Severtain. An accident. A merchant was making their way through the town while riding a horse, and though the Iyrmen grabbed the child, the another horse managed to trample onto their head, and…” Korin cleared his throat.

Jurot nodded. “I have heard the same.” Jurot stared at Korin. The Iyrman’s eyes pierced deep into Korin’s soul as he waited for the Aswadian to continue.

“Over the months, Iyrmen were spotted near the area. Some were Iyrmen who had retired in the many towns of Aswadasad, those who reached Mithril and Gold Rank within the Adventurer’s Guild. Then came the group from the Iyr. Some were Iyrmen who had never been seen before. Most were Masters, but there were many Grandmasters. I heard there were Paragons too. They went from the northern fort, taking the river up, passing several orders, including Ten Blades. Elder Peace and the Chief were with them, I recall.”

“Elder Wrath too,” Jurot added.

“They spoke with the Saib, the ruler of the town, and demanded to see the merchant to hear what had happened. Obviously, bringing hundreds of Iyrmen into the town and demanding to see the merchant, such a sight did not sit right with the Saib, who rejected the request. The Iyrmen stepped back. They sent a letter to the merchant, who refused to meet with them.”

Jurot continued to wait, wondering what else the young man would emit, or what he would mention.

“The Iyrmen left towards the western town, stating that they would be cursed for ten years.” Korin swallowed, avoiding Jurot’s gaze as he stared firmly at Adam. “Within three months, the Saib was dead. The rest of his family too. The merchant, and his entire family, were killed too. It all happened on the same night.” Korin fell silent for a moment, and prayed lightly to Lady Arya.

Jurot remained silent, as Adam felt his brow grow slick with sweat, and not from the sun.

“A great being made its home within the river between the two towns, and raiders began to plunder the local villages around Severtain, forcing them to the town. The Ten Blades, who were known as the Thirteen Blades at the time, sent many warriors down to speak with the Iyrmen in the western town. Three of their Thirteen Blades, and at least twenty more Experts at least, but they disappeared. An army was raised in Severtain, a few hundred, along with the new Saib, and weeks later, their bodies floated to the western town, where the Iyr watched them float by. The Iyrmen drank and ate as the townspeople fished them out of the river. They say the group were attacked by the great being, and a Dragon.”

Jurot slowly nodded his head, recalling the story. His jaw tensed up, and the shadow of a smile appeared on his face.

“The Shen and the Faro of East Aswadasad were involved with the matter, since Severtain was in the east, and the town the Iyrmen were relaxing within was in Central Aswadasad. The Shen, personally, went to the town. She brought with her those from the nearest three orders. The Black Lions, our Black Mountains, and those from the Red Sun. The Black Lions are an unofficial order, since they work as the private force for the Shen.” Korin wanted to speak of other matters rather than the story, finding himself growing cold. “She had sent word ahead that she was going on a royal visit to the town, but everyone knew what she was doing. The Faro wanted blood, but the Shen of the time was more patient, and some may suggest wise. It was her wisdom which had managed to fend off the Aldishmen for the entire length of her reign, only warring with them twice.”

Adam threw a war look to Jurot, seeing the way the Iyrman was doing his best not to smile with satisfaction. “Is that good?”

“Yes. The Aldishmen and the Aswadians war often. Sometimes multiple times a decade, but at least once a decade.”

“How long did she rule?”

“Fifty years.”

“That is impressive,” Adam admitted, his head gently bouncing.

“When the Shen reached the Iyrmen, she spoke with them. She asked if they had anything to do with the deaths of the Saib, or the mercenaries, and so on. The Iyrmen replied similarly to the Saib when they had spoken. Their business was their own. Negotiations fell through, and the Shen returned to the capital. There were some issues, but the Shen was fortunate due to the war beginning with Aldland, the first war of her reign, and she allowed the Faro to do as he pleased. The Faro made his way along the sea and…”

“And?” Adam asked, leaning in.

“A storm claimed him, they say,” Korin whispered, in a way that stated he didn’t believe in his words.

Adam stared at Korin, and then his eyes fell to Jurot, whose smile had grown. He understood there was more to the story, and wondered if he should ask for more. ‘The Iyr is so scary…’

“The war against the Aldish lasted some time, and by the time it was over, a draw that was considered a win by both sides, the matter of the Iyrmen was mostly forgotten. A new family, appointed by the Shen, ruled over Severtain, while she paid a visit to the eastern capital, making sure the transition to the Faro went smoothly.”

“It wasn’t smooth?” Adam asked.

“There was a minor uproar cause by some local rulers who tried to complain about the new Faro, but the nearby towns quickly fell into line when recalling how close the forts were. There are three so close to the eastern capital, and they have always been fiercely loyal to the Faro’s family, for many of the leaders there are related to the Faro’s family. There have been times that a family member has made a play, but such would have brought much danger from the Shen.”

“A parade was sent to mourn the Faro’s death,” Jurot said.

“It was also used to usher in the new Faro,” Korin admitted. “When one rides beside the East Scimitar, and five thousand soldiers, it is hard to remain steadfast against such an appearance. Then, of course, there was the West Scimitar, and another five thousand soldiers beside the Shen.”

“That went by smoothly then?”

“Yes. The situation with the Iyr did not resolve for some years, and when the ten years passed, they brought a sack of salt to the town, and thanked the order of Ten Blades for their blades. It was the only acknowledgement the Iyrmen made about the situation, and they returned back to the Iyr.”

Adam inhaled deeply. “You Iyrmen are savage.”

Jurot threw Adam a glance.

“Ah, I mean, not that you’re savages. It’s a saying from where I’m from. It’s like if someone took my dagger from me, and then I took it back, but before I did, I made sure to carve thief into the thief’s chest, you know? I got my revenge, but damn, I didn’t mess around, you know?”

Jurot slowly nodded his head, thinking he understood.

Adam cleared his throat. “So, uh… are you guys cool with Severtain?”

“The matter was resolved,” Jurot confirmed. “It was a shame so much occurred to the town and region.”

Korin knew of the Iyr and its many rules and stories. Some stories were no doubt exaggerated, but there were many stories in which the Iyr was mentioned, but it was always vague, like smoke.

Yet, where there was smoke, there was fire.

When the order was established, it had come to blows with the Iyrmen. He recalled a story, long old, about the Iyr, and how it was almost reduced to nothing. It was a time before history. The order had its own rules, and many of them had been placed due to the Iyr. It was partly because they worshipped the same Goddess, in a way, but one of the rules was always clear.

Do not kill any child of the Iyr.

It was a rule etched into the stones by Brandon the Bold, Lady Arya’s greatest Champion, who had retired within the Iyr. He had returned once to etch the rules, and it was before the order was established within Black Mountain. He had carved it with a great weapon, which had been gifted to the temple. The very same blade had been lost several times, and every time the Iyr found it, they either sent word of where it was, or retrieved it themselves.

“Manticores!” came a shout from Laygak, who donned his shield.

Adam looked out to see four manticores in the distance, flying towards their outpost. He stood up, grabbing his axe and Strong Shield. “Man, the Iyr is so scary.” Adam marched his way towards the while.

Korin bowed his head to Jurot, grabbing his own shield. “Let us kill some manticores.”

“Yes,” Jurot said, nodding his head towards Korin, seeing the question in his eyes. His lips slowly twitched into a smile, confirming Korin’s suspicions.

I forgot how crazy the Iyrmen were.