Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The next day, the twins were stolen away by their babos and nanos. Tonagek took responsibility over the triplets. Nirot held Lanarot’s hand as the girl led her to watch a fight, the young woman preparing her ears. Turot and Asorot each held their younger brother’s hands, who were often distracted by the smell in the air which enticed them in.

Adam and Vonda remained to one side, the half elf holding his daughter to his chest, the girl sucking her little dummy. While Adam cradled the girl with one arm, his free hand brushed along the side of his wife’s hand, the pair holding hands for a moment.

Jurot sat beside Pam, who watched him with curious eyes, impressed by his ability to slice a potato so thinly. Jurot peeled a set of potatoes, slicing them thinly as he had been requested, eventually scooping them into a large bowl of water, covering them to allow them to soak. He cleaned the purple knife, placing it into the leather, tying it to his side. His eyes fell down to Damrot, who remained snoozing away within his basket, the dummy sometimes bobbing up and down.

‘Did I sleep so well as a boy?’

An old Iyrman stepped into the estate the group were relaxing within. He was strongly built, as Iyrman were, and carried an axe at his side, as though he were a member of the Rot family. He had short dark hair and stubble, as though he had shaved the day before the festival. At his forehead was a blue square, flanked by pairs of red crescent moons which almost touched tips at the top and bottom. As he noted the sleeping children, the Iyrman took his place opposite the pair of husbands and wives.

Adam bowed his head, and the Iyrman returned a bow. Eventually, Virot stirred, the girl pushing herself off of her father’s chest, her eyes blinking slowly before she noted her mother to the side. She sucked her dummy with a smile, before she reached over to her mother, but was quickly distracted by her father’s affection. Pam also woke Damrot up to feed the boy.

“Are you enjoying the festival?” Bovin asked, the Iyrman leaning back in his chair, his eyes glued to the half elf.

“Yeah.” Adam gently nodded his head. “Yourself?”

“My heart yearns for blood, but I must remained content with the heat,” Bovin said, the Iyrman reaching up to scratch his chin and neck. He glanced towards Vonda for a moment, his eyes darting away since she was feeding her daughter, who reached up to clutch at her mother’s hair. “Have you thought of a name for your seventh?”

“We’ve discussed it. So far it’s Zirot or Zarot, depending on if it’s a girl or boy.”

“Would you like a girl or a boy?”

“It doesn’t matter. As long as I can spoil them, I’m happy.”

“Will you be unable to spoil them?” Bovin asked, holding Adam’s gaze.

Adam replied with an awkward smile, before shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure I’ll be able to spoil them as much as I like.”

Bovin let out a soft sigh. He reached down to his tunic, revealing a small piece of metal, that was about the width of a finger, and about half as long. He held it out for the half elf.

“What is it?” Adam asked, taking the piece of metal from the Iyrman. It was made of silver, and held the warm of someone who had kept it close to his chest. There was an inscription in the Aswadian language, the large and beautiful flourishes somehow engraved so cleanly into the metal.

“The silver was once a part of Sulayman al-Walid’s hoard,” Bovin said, almost coyly.

“Should I know who that is?”

“The Shen of Shens,” Jurot explained.

“Ah!” Adam said, his brows suddenly raising in shock, his heartbeat beating a little quicker. ‘Damn!’

“I have come to gift it to your unborn child,” Bovin said, smiling slightly, though his eyes held no light.

“Thank you.”

Bovin slowly nodded his head once more. “It is all I can do, since I am no longer allowed to leave the Iyr.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Adam stared down at the silver, trying not to broach that topic. “Do you know what the inscription says?”

“He came for me, but I denied Him.”

“He?”

“Presumably it means their Divine Lord, Noor, but for us, it refers to Baktu.”

“Damn. That guy really was the Shen of Shens, huh?” Adam stared down at the silver. “Even I don’t have the gall to…” Adam thought back to when he had met the Divine. ‘I guess I do have the gall.’

Once Vonda was done feeding Virot, Adam helped the girl burp, before rubbing his cheek against hers. Bovin remained, reaching out a hand to Vonda’s head, rubbing the top of her head for a moment, before he began to speak his family’s tales to the group.

“Mummy! Mummy! I throw so well!” Jirot exclaimed as she ran towards her mother, slowing down as her father held out his hand. The girl’s eyes darted to the Iyrman to the side, barely recognising him. She rushed up beside her mother and father.

“Do you remember who this is?”

“It is… Bovin?” Jirot asked.

“How did you know?” Adam asked, picking the girl up, before picking up his son, planting a firm kiss against their necks.

“Babo tell me.”

“That’s right. Do you remember what he was?”

“Elder Wrath, but he did not win.”

“Who beat him?”

“Lion King!”

“Wow! Gosh, look at how smart my daughter is!” Adam kissed her cheek all over. “How about daddy rewards you all with a snack from his home?”

“Snack?” Jirot asked, her ears twitching slightly.

‘I didn’t expect so many people to come,’ Adam thought, though he was glad Jurot had cut so many potatoes. “Let me show you.”

Once the basins were brought over, allowing them to wash their hands, the Iyrmen stared curiously at the range of fried potato slices before them, with Adam lightly salting them in front of the group.

“They should have cooled down by now,” Adam said, picking one up, feeling how light the snack was within his hand. “Jurot, your skill with a knife is so scary.”

“Puthral knives are easy to use,” Jurot replied, as though his abilities had no part in the cutting.

“Look at it.” Adam stared at the crisp for a long moment, the half elf swallowing. This was the first crisp he’d have in this life. “Crisps. Some people call them chips, and those people also call chips fries, and deserve no respect. They don’t even know how to spell colour, or grey, but that’s beside the point.”

Adam stared at the thinly sliced potato, feeling the memories rush to him, but he blinked them away. “Crisps. These were a favourite snack of mine. You get quite a bit of these in their little bags, though half of it was air, you didn’t want them to break during transportation. They come in all kinds of flavours, but my favourites were probably barbecue, salt and vinegar, and of course, prawn cocktail. It tastes better than it sounds, I promise.”

They could see the joy in Adam’s eyes, from his ridiculous outburst, to him stating the name of his favourite flavour. “I really want to eat it, so, Jababy, will you have a bite first?”

Persuasion Check (Advantage)

D20 + 6 = 14 (8)

D20 + 6 = 20 (14)

20!

Jarot pouted slightly, but opened his mouth slightly, and Adam brought the crisp up to his lips, the boy biting into a small bit, before chewing it slowly. Adam then brought it to his own lips, before spying Jirot’s expectant eyes, and the half elf brought it to her lips, allowing her to have the second bite, before he popped the last half into his own mouth. The saltiness filled his tongue, the crunch against his molars, to the point small bits managed to slip between his teeth, causing the half elf to wince.

“Not bad, but the flavours of my home are much better.” Adam concentrated, motioning with his hand, before calling forth the words of his magic. He flavoured the crisps with salt and vinegar at first, allowing the Iyrmen to taste the crisps. He brought a small piece up to his son’s lips, who nibbled bits of the crisps. The boy pulled away and coughed, while Adam brought the gourd of milk to his son’s lips. “No salt and vinegar, eh?”

“No…” Jarot shook his head.

“Okay, okay, how about this.” Adam snatched a crisp, feeling the panic rise within him, and cast his trick once more, calling forth the magic as he recalled the flavour. ‘If there’s a God of Food out there, or a God of Children, please!’ “This is prawn cocktail, daddy’s favourite. Just a little bite, and that’s it, okay?”

Persuasion Check (Advantage)

D20 + 6 = 18 (12)

D20 + 6 = 23 (17)

23!

“Okay…”

Adam brought it to his son’s lips, the boy nibbling it slightly, while Jirot grumbled quietly, before she took a bite of it, slowly chewing the crisp. “What do you two think?”

“I like it,” Jirot said. “It is so yummy.”

“Yeah?” Adam smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves it so much, too.”

The older Jarot winced slightly at the flavour, noting the explosion of sourness against his tongue. ‘Rajin will enjoy this.’

“Daddy,” little Jarot called.

“Yes?”

“More?”

“More?” Adam asked.

“Poan caktell?”

“You want more crisps?” Adam asked, blinking.

“Mm.”

Adam blinked again. His heart throbbed slightly, the half elf rushing with a deep warmth, before he leaned down to kiss his son’s forehead. He brought the boy’s head to his chest, for a moment, swaying slightly.

“Of course! Of course, my boy!” Adam’s throat trembled, the half elf reaching out to snatch more crisps, placing them upon a plate, before he cast his spell. “You can have as much prawn cocktail crisps as you want. This is how I know you’re my son! Who else but my children could appreciate prawn cocktail?” Adam planted firm kisses all over his son’s forehead, the tears trickling down the sides of his cheek. “Make sure you thank papo for cutting the crisps so well, yeah?”

“Thank you, papo,” little Jarot called, the boy’s eyes meeting Jurot’s.

Jurot nodded, keeping his emotions at bay, not wanting to feel anything before he saw it. “You eat so well, Jarot.”

Though the Iyrmen had cautiously ate the crisps with curiosity, they pulled away from the snacks, allowing the little boy to eat as much as he wanted. They watched as Jirot picked up a crisp and brought it up to her brother’s lips, letting the boy have the first bite, before she ate the second, and allowing him the last third of the crisp. She repeated this with each crisp, brushing her brother’s hair and cheek with each bite.

“You eat so well, Jarot,” the girl said, confirming her uncle’s words.

The boy continued to eat, crisp after crisp, eating dozens upon dozens, before only the crumbs of the crisps remained. The boy sipped away at his milk, before leaning back against his father, cuddling up to him.

The other Iyrmen had all snuck glances towards the boy, but it was Jurot who had watched every bite. The Iyrman felt the wave of relief rush through him, the pride that he had assisted in feeding his nephew, though it was marred by the fact the situation called for such relief.

Vonda covered her face as she sobbed as quietly as she could. Pam also began to cry, hiding her face within her own hand. Jurot reached out for her shoulder, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

“Mummy?” Jirot called out, while she and her brother, as well as the triplets all rushed up to their mother. “Mummy, you are hurting?”

“I’m okay,” Vonda assured, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, before blowing her nose into a handkerchief. She reached down to rub her children’s heads, rubbing along their cheeks. “Did you enjoy the crisps?”

“Yes,” Jirot replied. “I like it.”

“Yummy, mummy,” Jarot confirmed.

The older Jarot threw a look to his wife, before he closed his eyes, concentrating on dealing with the sudden surge of emotions filling him.

Larot let out a small sigh, the boy leaning back against Mirot, closing his eyes to fall asleep. ‘A child should eat freely.’

The ripples of joy expanded out from the shared estate, through the Iyr as the news spreads. It wasn’t just joy, but hope. A hope that finally they could fix the one issue which plagued them for millennia.

A hope which Adam would soon dash right to the Great Elder’s faces.

I teared up just reading this chapter. I didn’t do it justice.