Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

She was beautiful, her skin deep red, like fresh blood, a pair of horns flowing back over her head, as though shaped by a breeze. Upon her forehead, a purple tilted cross was flanked by six hollowed hexes of the same purple. She wore a heavy cloak of dark green, with a golden hem, and wore two amulets of Baktu against her chest.

The Shaman checked upon the children’s teeth with her flat silver utensil, like a flat spoon, her ring glowing, providing light. She spoke to her apprentice with words that didn’t seem to make any sense, her voice so soft and smooth, while her apprentice swiftly dotted the words within her book. Once she was done checking the four sets of double canines within Jirot’s mouth, she reached up and brushed the girl’s hair tenderly, as she had done with her younger brother. “You are still brushing your teeth so well.”

Jirot smiled wide. “I brush it so good. My mummy says how can I be the best, but of coase I am the best, I am her daughter.”

Lokat smiled brightly down at the young girl, brushing her cheek tenderly, before checking upon her elder siblings, starting with Karot, then Kirot, and finally Konarot. She brushed the eldest sister’s forehead with her thumb. After removing the artefact from the girl, she seemed to hold a greater colour within her, the girl’s innocent eyes holding no hint of the kind of girl who would almost kill her mother.

“You may go,” Lokat informed her apprentice, allowing the young woman to leave with the book, expecting her back in a few hours once the contents had been copied.

Shikan showed the Shaman to the room she would stay in, that within the Kan family, since the Rot family had no space to house the Shaman.

Adam watched as the Shaman left to deal with her belongings, wondering just how far the Iyr would go for his children. ‘Did you pick my break on purpose?’ Adam exhaled, his joke unable to lighten the debt upon his shoulders. ‘Just how much do I owe you already?’

“Nano!” Jirot gasped as her nano appeared, the older woman smiling warmly towards the twins, allowing them to tackle her. She scooped them up within her arms, and pulled them close to her chest.

“How are you my greatchildren?” Gangak asked, before noting Lokat’s appearance, bowing her head towards the Shaman. The children distracted their nano by speaking of their day, how they had drawn with their mother and father, how they had been checked up, and how they had read to little Virot and Damrot. While they babbled away, she pulled them closer to her chest, planting kisses against their foreheads.

“Nano?”

“Yes?”

“You are listening?” Jirot asked.

“I am listening.”

“Even if you do not listen, I love you so much, nano,” Jirot assured, smiling bashfully.

“I love you too, my Jirot, my Jarot, I love you too,” the old woman assured, her heart swelling with sheer love for the pair. ‘Even if your names are Rot, you are my greatchildren.’

‘How many visitors are we going to get?’ Adam thought, his eyes glancing towards the thin, old woman, her hair cut into a bob, who tapped the floor with her staff every few steps.

“Nano?” Jirot called, looking up at the old woman, who was so short, and held a gentle smile upon her face.

“I came since my granddaughter is not here, but was it not needed?” Kamool asked, the old woman bowing her head to Gangak, who returned the bow. Then the old woman glanced aside to her niece, smiling towards her, while the Shaman bowed her head.

Kamool squatted down and lifted up Minool, the girl smiling brightly at her grandmother for a long moment, but once she was kissed, she squirmed to try and flee back to her mother. Jitool rushed up to her grandmother too, Maool waddling her way over with her confident steps, while Jazool pulled Larot with her.

Kamool lifted the little red skinned boy, pulling him close to her chest, while greeting all her grandchildren, doing the same for all the other little children who came to greet her. She sat down, allowing them to badger her all they wanted.

‘I really don’t have much connection with the older Ool family members, do I?’ Adam thought, though the old woman held Larot upon her lap, with Jazool cuddling up to her bosom too.

Gangak’s eyes darted to Lokat, then back to Kamool, wondering if the old woman had anything to do with the Iyr assigning the Shaman to the estate. However, even if she didn’t, the fact that she had come to visit the children meant enough.

As Adam continued to enchant, taking the next week to enchant a few weapons, he heard about a slight issue within the business.

Jurot finished bathing in the stream when they appeared, a group of seven heavily armoured figures, each riding upon their steeds towards the village. Jurot approached the village, strapping his shield upon his back. The Silver Fate Squad accompanied the Iyrman, each ready for combat.

The strangers were heavily armoured and armed, each adorned in at least chain mail, while the leader wore full plate, their cloaks floating behind them. They carried with them an assortments of weapons, but it was the flag of their liege which provided them their greatest defence, the red and brown revealed their affiliation as a family from within Red Oak, though Jurot was uncertain as to which family they belonged to. It wasn’t Redoak, or Crimsonbranch, or Scarletwood, that much was for certain.

The seven trotted up into the centre of the village, ignoring the typical decorum, though the leader reached to his side, and tossed over a pouch towards the Chief of the village, who caught it. Noting the heft within the pouch, she gathered the coins were no doubt silvers, meaning the group probably skimped on the appropriate amount of tax.

“Are you-,” the leader began, only to be interrupted.

“Get off your horse,” Jurot demanded.

“Who are you?”

“Get off your horse.” Jurot’s eyes remained vicious as he glared through the knight’s visor.

The knight undid his helmet, revealing a face full of youth, unmarked by blades, except for the daily shaving, not that he needed to shave daily, since he was that young. He had short chestnut hair, and hazel eyes. Jurot’s eyes softened, since the young man seemed even younger than himself.

“I am S-,”

“You are a noble, so you should show a noble’s prestige,” Jurot said, his eyes darting along the other guards, each no doubt stronger than the young man before him. They were no doubt well trained, though were they Experts? One, two perhaps, the one who wore a bronze medallion that kept his cloak together, since the others wore iron medallions.

“I am Sir-,”

“Get off your horse,” Jurot said, interrupting the noble each time, until he was red in the face.

“How da-,”

“Get off your horse.”

It was the calmness in Jurot’s voice that set the young man off, who reached down for his blade, only to be stopped by the bronze medallion, who rode forward to the left, making it awkward for the young noble to draw his blade. The fellow hoisted himself off his horse, patting his steed on his side, whistling, causing the horse to back away. He undid his helmet, revealing a young face, with slightly tan skin, dark eyes and dark hair.

“Albie Redfield,” the guard said, bowing his head slightly, his smile pure white. “My charge is Sir Joshua Redfield.”

“Jurot,” Jurot replied.

“We are here to discuss business with the United Kindom.”

“I am Executive Jurot, of the United Kindom.”

“Jurot? Of the Rot family?”

“Yes.”

“Are you related to the Mad Dog?”

“Yes.”

“Mirac the Sawad, the Black.”

Jurot nodded, suddenly understanding how Albie was a branch member of the Redfield family. “It is my honour to meet the descendant of Mirac the Sawad.”

“It is mine to meet the descendant of the Mad Dog,” Albie replied.

Joshua had dismounted his horse, and took his place slightly ahead of Albie. “You are the grandson of the Mad Dog?”

“I am.”

“A shame he lost his fangs.”

“Our Rot family remains sharp, Redfield,” Nirot stated, narrowing her eyes at the young man she could gut like a pig.

“Who are-,” Joshua began, noting the tattoo on the young woman’s forehead. “That is beside the point. We are here because we have a plaque from the business. Albie, show them the plaque.”

Albie let out a small sigh, reaching to his side, revealing a small wooden cylinder, handing it to the Iyrman.

Jurot undid the top, pulling out the letter and the small metal plaque, confirming they had participated in the auction. “I have confirmed that you bought one of the weapons we have auctioned, but our business is currently unable to take orders.”

“Unable to take orders?” Joshua asked, glancing between the Iyrman, and the figure in breastplate. He inhaled sharply, pulling his head up, standing with pride. “We were not informed.”

“An…” Jurot swallowed. “An issue has recently arisen. We are unable to take orders. The seals will remain valid.”

“Will you not consider our family? We came all this way!”

“We will spread the information that your business is closed for the foreseeable future,” Albie said. “Would you be willing to hear our request and consider it?”

“I will do that much at least,” Jurot assured.

“This is ridiculous!” Joshua fumed, glaring at the Iyrmen. “Do you think just because your grandfather is the Mad Dog, we will accept this disrespect?”

“It is no disrespect.”

“Do you think I don’t understand what this is? Even if you are the Mad Dog’s grandchildren, I am still a Redfield.”

“Out of respect for Mirac the Sawad, and for your decency to spread the word, we will consider your proposal.”

“Consider? It’s not a difficult proposal, so-,”

Jurot’s eyes darted to Albie, sharing a knowing look, causing Joshua to freeze in place. The young man reached for his blade, only to be stopped by Albie’s elbow.

“I have heard so much about the Mad Dog, would you be willing to speak to us of his tales?” Albie asked.

“Okay,” Jurot said, but the sound of a blade being drawn filled the air.

Silence followed for a long moment, as Jurot slowly turned to see Joshua pointing a blade towards him. The fury in his eyes was evident enough, but Jurot understood it was a fury that was born from a misunderstanding. If it was the Redfield family, Jurot could only think that the blade was drawn because of imagined issues, the kind born from frustration of a failing family.

However, a blade had been drawn.

“It seems Sir Joshua wishes to spar,” Albie said, smiling awkwardly towards the Iyrman.

“Okay.”

The figure approached as Sir Joshua fell upon his bottom for the third time, panting for air. Jurot stood over the young man, noting the guards dripping in trepidation, unsure of what to do. He glanced towards Albie, slowly bowing his head, while Joshua stood, holding his blade with both hands, it shaking and shuddering almost as badly as him. However, they all turned towards the figure, who stood proudly, his hair falling down to his shoulders, unarmoured, save for the furs of the Iyr. It was the blade upon his back which caused the Iyrmen to pay special attention to him in particular.

“The resilience of the Redfield family is astounding,” he said, his voice neutral, his eyes dark.

Albie could feel a chill run through him, the Aldishman smiling politely. The tattoo was the same, blue circle and blue diamonds, but Jurot and Nirot both wielded axes and shields, the same as their grandfather. ‘He must have married into the family.’

“Executive Jurot, what happened?”

Jurot explained the situation to the Iyrman, who listened patiently.

‘I see.’ “Executive Jurot, Silver Fate Squad, you may return to the Iyr and inform the Enchanter of the request, and I will remain here.”

“…” Jurot wanted to speak up against his words, but he wasn’t going to allow the Aldishmen to hear them disagree. “Okay.”

“Who are you?” Joshua asked, his eyes cautiously staring at the Iyrman.

“I am Gorot. I am the brother to the President, and I am here on behalf of my wife, taking her role as the Acting Director of the United Kindom.”

Nirot’s eyes remained glued to Gorot’s greatsword, a greatsword she had seen a few times at her paternal family’s estate. It was the same weapon which propelled her aunt after her elder brothers failed to make a name for themselves, while her elder sister died trying to earn a name for herself. It was a blade that was heavy, far too heavy for most to use. The blade was blue, with waves forged all across, but it was the edge of the blade, like shark teeth, which allowed it such infamy.

“Nirot,” Gorot called, not wishing to look at his daughter. “You should return. I will complete my duty.”

“Okay,” Nirot replied, her throat flexing against her words to refuse it, but she wouldn’t let the Aldishmen hear her complain. She turned, allowing Gorot to deal with the situation.

It was upon their return to the Main Iyr, that Adam heard what happened. He threw a look to Damrot, who stared up at his father, taking in the Iyrman’s sight.

“So what’s their request?”

“Five Basic longswords, five thousand.”

“Okay,” Adam replied, ending the matter there. ‘That’s only about six days worth of work, with a Basic weapon or shield leftover.’ “So, uncle Gorot is the Acting Director?”

“You did not know?” Jurot asked, surprised.

Adam waved his hand, glad he wasn’t stressed out about it. “I’m sure our President and Director knew, so that’s all that matters.”

“Are you still enchanting?”

“Yeah.”

“The business also requires equipment,” Jurot said, sliding forward a book to the half elf.

Adam flipped through it. “Jurot?”

“Yes?”

“You’ll need to distract Jirot during the day.”

“Okay.”

Adam wasn’t sure of the significance of all these actions, but if the Iyr wasn’t going to tell him, it meant that it was the Iyr’s business. He inhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair. ‘I guess I’ll have to…’ Adam closed his eyes, blocking out the thoughts. ‘Turot keeps stealing the children from me when he returns, so I’ll need to spoil them more during my breaks. Thankfully, the festival is coming up.’

Classic.

Shout out to the new patron! I didn’t forget my promise so expect a double chapter today and tomorrow!