Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Adam began to work, having almost forgotten that he had taken on a set of new orders from the previous year. Lykan sent Bael back to the business, with some minor trouble.

“You lost the bet and now you want to hang out in the Front Iyr?” Adam asked, judging him with his eyes. “Do you see this, Jirot? You and I are working so hard, but this guy, we beat him up, and now he doesn’t want to work?”

Jirot tutted at him, causing him to retreat back to the business, with Lucy, Mara, and even Jurot.

“Working?” Jirot accused the half elf, with her brows pointing upwards.

“I will take a day off on the seventh, like always,” Adam assured, planting a kiss on her forehead, before going to enchant.

Jirot pouted, but allowed her father to go, since he allowed her to read to him every night. They even played Warriors and Wanderers, with the children rolling their little wooden dice their uncle had crafted for them.

The days passed like this, with Adam trying to understand his place in the world. He kept his stress to himself as he enchanted.

‘He’s probably not going to stick around to kill me, right? What am I thinking, he didn’t come all this way just to not kill me. Still, he seems to have some work up north? Does that mean we’ll get to meet him again? Should I try and talk to him, tell him I won’t mess around any more?’

The waters around Adam were turbulent once more, but the half elf exhaled out his worries. ‘At least the baby should be born fine.’

Adam met the girl’s eyes. She was so small still, and her hazel eyes and dark hair matching her mother’s. Adam tickled her nose, causing her to squeal. “You smelly girl, you worried so much back then, and now you’re acting all cute?”

“Daddy, it is time for reading,” Jirot said, holding her book against her chest, waiting for her father to follow her.

“Of course, my dear.” Adam carried Virot to the side where all the other children had gathered, most of whom Adam didn’t recognise. Damrot lay within a basket to one side, where a teen Iyrman from another family watched over the boy. Adam sat beside the Iyrman, who slowly nodded her head, the half elf returning the nod.

“She reads so well,” Okvar said, dropping down beside Adam.

“Yeah,” Adam said, flashing a small smile to the Iyrman, whose head had been shaved bald, his thick beard covering his tusks. “She does.”

Okvar listened to the girl as she read so confidently, her brother sitting beside her, sometimes reading out portions himself, though the boy often glanced towards his father and Okvar. Okvar smiled at the boy, who had been so small when he was first born, he had fit within the Iyrman’s hand. He recalled the feeling of the boy’s skin against his chest, those weak breaths against his chest.

Once they were done reading and listening, the children scattered back home. Okvar picked up Damrot’s basket, dismissing the teen with a smile, before escorting Adam and his children back home. He remained silent on the walk home, placing the basket to one side, next to the boy’s mother, who smiled and thanked him. Okvar bowed his head simply in return before he stepped away, still half in thought about what to say.

“Adam?” Okvar called out. “Okay?”

“…” Adam nodded his head.

Okvar bowed his head in return and walked off. Adam had already gone through a similar experience before, but this time it was different. This time, Adam had a family to worry about, and unlike Okvar, he was no Iyrman. He thought of the twins, who were so full of life. ‘You have both grown so well.’

“You met with him?” Rasam asked once she completed her rounds.

Okvar eyed up the woman, who had gained some weight since their last outing together, though most of it fuelled the objects she lifted every morning. “I did.”

‘Should I go too?’ Rasam thought, before dismissing the thought. ‘He will need time alone.’

Once Adam was done enchanting his weapon, he began work on enchanting the shields. ‘I still need to enchant my weapon, but I should focus on paying my debts first.’

However, once he finished enchanting the shields, he took the next week off for the festival. The Front Iyr was full of life, the music in the distance providing a gentle atmosphere, while Adam walked around with his children.

Konarot glared at the basket from afar. She held the little pouch full of beans, those which would later be used for fertiliser for the land. She tossed it towards the inner basket, though missed, instead managing to land the pouch in a slightly larger basket outside. She stood tall, her tail swaying from side to side.

“Haha!” the old one armed Iyrman shouted. “My greatdaughter is so good at throwing!”

Konarot smiled shyly towards her babo, who had returned from his work. Her tailed swayed slightly once more as he continued to praise her, and the rest of the children, even Karot who had missed the basket, and Larot, who didn’t even bother to participate. The old one armed Iyrman then fed his greatchildren, feeding them the pizza their father had introduced into the Iyr.

“Jirot, Jarot,” Gangak called, feeding the pair from her fingers, each taking a bite of the bread.

Otkan sat silently beside them, watching over Larot and Virot, allowing Adam and Vonda to sit to one side.

“Adam…” Vonda said.

“What? It’s a husband’s romance to feed his wife, you know?” Adam stated, holding up the fork of vegetables to his wife’s lips. Vonda returned the favour as the pair ate to one side, with Adam drinking milk and eating bits of cheese, while Vonda drank the milk which had been ground out of oats.

‘I should really take you on more dates,’ Adam thought.

It was a few days into the festival, when the children were taken to see the wrestling, that Adam and Vonda explored the festival. They walked through the side roads, finding many tired Iyrmen each enjoying their peace. They picked up bits and pieces of food along the way, and accepted all the water and milk and juices given to them, while Adam refused any alcohol.

“Vonda?”

“Yes?”

“How much money should I donate to Life’s Rose?”

“Whatever pleases you.”

“We’ve got quite a bit of money after the Iyr refused to accept most of it,” Adam said, recalling just how much coin the Iyr had refused. “I mean, we have about… a lot. We should probably donate some of it to Life’s Rose and the other temples.”

“How much did you wish to donate?” Vonda asked, understanding she couldn’t leave it so vague.

“I don’t know, about ten thousand?” Adam said, as though it weren’t a princely sum. “What do you think?”

Vonda held Adam’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You should donate some to Life’s Rose, and some to the other temples.”

“Including the other Divine too?”

“That would be best.”

“The Lord of Order too?” Adam asked, a small frown upon his lips.

“It may be best,” Vonda replied, unsure of how much that would soothe the Lord of Order, who certainly had it out for the half elf. She brushed along the back of his fingers tenderly, feeling the softness of his fae skin, almost feeling the roughness of her own hands against them.

“Okay, but most of it is going to Mother Soza, then Baktu, then Lady Arya.”

“It is your…” Vonda paused, realising the mistake she made. “Okay, darling.”

“Do you think flirting with me will make me forget about what you were about to say?” Adam asked, before he scooted closer. “You know me so well, darling.”

Vonda rested her head against his shoulder, holding his hands as the pair relaxed together.

While the pair flirted, Jurot sat beside Pam, who stared at the sky. She thought about the first time the pair had met, about five years ago, in Red Oak where he brought bread from her. He had been younger, leaner, with longer hair. He had trimmed it down slightly every so often, and each time he did, the cut was slightly shorter than the last. He had been a fresh, baby faced adventurer, and now he was someone who had slain a dragon, hydras, and had won two tournaments. She was a baker then, and she was a baker now.

“Thank you for calling my father to the Front Iyr,” Pam said, reaching out to take his hand into her own.

“Okay,” Jurot replied, before recalling the phrase he had been taught. “No problem.”

“I was a little hesitant about all this, but you, and your brother, you both keep your word.”

“I am an Iyrman, and my brother does not lie,” Jurot replied simply.

Pam smiled, squeezing his hand again, before staring at it. Those hands were different to her own. They were rough, coarse, calloused from years of his profession as an Iyrman.

“Do you find it comfortable in the Iyr?” Jurot asked.

Pam raised her brows in surprise, before smiling slightly. “A little. I prefer the business.”

“Why?”

“It’s not as… scary.”

“Is the Iyr scary to you?”

“Yes.”

“It should not be scary to you, but the world.”

“I come from the world which finds the Iyr scary.”

“You are now a part of the Iyr.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure if I can be.”

“You are,” Jurot replied, as though that was the end of the matter. Even now, if the Great Elders wished to do anything to Pam, they would need to go through him and the rest of the Rot family.

Pam smiled, squeezing his hand again, before bringing it up to her cheek. She watched as her husband’s ears turned red and she smiled. “You’ve gained a little weight.”

“I will train more.”

“I don’t mind it.”

“Okay.” Jurot glanced aside, having lost to his wife so easily.

“Is it still dangerous for your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be staying here all year?”

“No. We will be leaving soon.”

“Where will you go?”

“North.”

“Isn’t that where… Starsword?”

“Yes.”

“Will it be dangerous.”

“It is always dangerous.”

Pam sighed, before intertwining their fingers together. “I will pray for your safety, and your brother’s.”

“I will bring him back safely,” Jurot stated.

“Then I will pray you grow stronger.” Pam rested her head against his shoulder.

Jurot didn’t want to tell her that her prayers would send greater foes to him to make him stronger, only increasing the chance for their death. “Okay.”

When did our Jurot become so shy? How cute.