Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“You!” Jarot snarled, stepping forward, only kept at bay by a hand upon his shoulder. “You killed my greatsons!”

The Vice Commanders had reached for their blades from the sudden outburst, only keeping them sheathed thanks to the bearded Iyrman who kept a hand upon the crippled Iyrman’s shoulder. The sudden outburst, brought the attention of those around, word spreading out, the shouting already alerting those a short distance away.

“What?” Kris replied, his face contorted into confusion, mixed with his annoyance.

“You killed my children,” Adam managed through heavy breaths, pulling up his visor to reveal his dark eyes, and the murderous glare.

“What is this madness?” Kris asked, standing taller, his eyes narrowing.

“You killed my children!” Adam shouted, no longer able to contain himself, almost shaking with the rage that overwhelmed him, the grief hiding away into the depths of his heart. “My sons! Jarot! Larot! You killed them!”

“What is the meaning of this?” called a gentle voice, which pressed upon them like a blanket. He was older, seemingly in his sixties or so, though was actually older, having aged gracefully, holding a touch of handsomeness, white hair which flowed back like a river. He was clean shaven, having shaved that morning, a routine he had adopted since he had taken his title. The older man wore full plate, and carried a blade at his side. His eyes darted between the figures, noting the young man in puthral, which caused his mind to tingle in recognition. For some reason, a pair of heavily armoured figures walked beside him, not that he needed them.

‘What are they doing here?’ Dunes thought, staring at the armour, which was of Aswadian design, but it was their blades, forged by dragon breath, which revealed who they were.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Another other figure thought, stepping beside the old man who had aged gracefully. He was adorned in full plate, and he carried a giant maul upon his back, though not the trusty maul he had once wielded.

‘Damn it!’ Adam thought, before his eyes darted to another figure, with red skin, wrinkled by time, two horns that curled upwards, and a familiar tattoo, not that she could refer to herself as one of the Kats any longer while she held such a position. The old woman held her beads, rubbing them gently.

Any one of them would have demanded their attention, but together, King Merryweather, Lord Marshal Royce, and Elder Peace, forced a silence to take hold to the scene without asking for it. Even as various other Grand Commanders and Vice Commanders appeared, the presence from the trio completely overwhelmed any other.

‘Isn’t that…’ Sir Dunnock thought, staring at the puthral armour, the flashes of memories returning to her.

Sky Commander Sienna remained silent, her eyes also upon the half elf. ‘What are they doing here?’

‘Oh?’ Bael thought, staring at the trio who had appeared, feeling his heart stir within his chest. ‘So he must be King Merryweather? I thought they were overestimating him, but…’

“May I request an explanation as to the commotion?” King Merryweather asked, holding a gentle smile upon his face, which was genuine, since he was strong enough to hold a genuine smile at this time.

“They killed my children,” Adam said, his eyes burning, realising how hopeless the situation had turned now that they were surrounded. ‘Damn it.’

“Excuse me?”

Adam pointed to Kris and then Melinda. “They…” Adam swallowed. “They killed my children. My sons.”

“You are suggesting two noble knights of the Order of the Thousand Hunts, killed your children?” His voice remained calm, collected, and full of doubt.

“Yeah.” Adam grit his teeth, holding the King’s gaze, which pressed upon his shoulders. It was a gaze of absolute power, a power that could right wrongs, and wrong rights.

“What is this nonsense?” Kris growled, reaching for his blade, but not daring to draw it. “I will have no disrespect from you, boy, or you, Iyrman.”

Rajin reached for the hilt of his sword, and carefully, the group around him began to do the same. Adam strapped on his shield, and Dunes inhaled deeply, strapping his own shield, while gripping the hilt of his magical blade. Bael cracked his knuckles, feeling the electricity in the air. Lucy and Mara could feel it. The intense pressure from the Orders around them, so many glaring at them in particular.

“I wish to hear the situation more clearly,” King Harold Merryweather requested, his voice still calm, pressing upon even the Vice Commander. Had it been any other situation, the King might have thought less of it, but there were far too many Iyrmen before him to ignore such a statement. The doubt filled his heart, since there was no way that…

The King then recalled the Iyrmen within the camp, and suddenly he could feel the presence of the Great Elder beside him.

“They killed my children,” Adam said. “Ran them. Clean. Through.” Adam dropped his visor, sniffling in the silence.

“This is ridiculous, Lord Merryweather.”

“The thirteenth of the fifth month,” Jarot growled. “The fort at the front of the Iyr, at the business of the United Kindom.”

“We…” Kris began, realising he had passed by the fort. “We passed by the fort, but…” The Vice Commander straightened, confusion filling his face, before his eyes darted to meet Jarot’s, his face slowly contorting into a shocked smile. “We killed no children. We killed beasts. Goblins. A demon.”

Jarot’s eyes twitched, and he snarled, taking a step forward, almost slipping on the wet floor with his wooden leg as he reached for his axe. “My greatsons! My Larot! My Jarot!”

Adam had almost lost himself, but he felt a finger keeping his elbow at bay, as Amokan glared at the Vice Commander. Amokan kept his own rage at bay, but they couldn’t fight at this moment. There needed to be more said, the Iyr needed to hammer the situation deep into the scene.

“You are truly mad!” Kris shouted, pulling his hand away from the hilt of his blade out of sheer shock. “You have come for beasts?”

“Is what he says true, young man?” King Merryweather asked. “He slew… goblins, and a demon?”

“My children!” Adam replied, feeling the grief flood through his body. “My precious boys! My daughter too, you bastard!”

“You have come to kill, and to die, for the sake of goblins and a demon?” Merryweather asked, his voice still soft, but full of disbelief.

“They are my children!” Adam shouted, while hearing the rumblings from the crowd, from hushed whispers, to light chuckles.

‘Demons and a goblin?’ Sky Commander Sienna thought, furrowing her brows. ‘He…’

Adam’s eyes darted around, the half elf tensing up for a moment. They were completely surrounded now, with easily a hundred members from the various Orders around, with a dozen who were Vice Commanders, and a handful who were the Grand Commanders of their Orders. Though Elder Peace was nearby, he was fairly certain this was it. ‘Five rounds.’

“We have humoured this enough,” King Merryweather said. “No blades have been drawn. No blood, spilled. Due to the sensitive nature of this gathering, I shall show mercy, and out of respect for the Iyr, I shall allow you to leave unharmed. I shall ask the First Vice Commander of the Thousand Hunts to show leniency in this matter, for there seems to be… something wrong with the young man.”

Adam swallowed, shaking his head lightly. “What’s wrong is that my children, my sweet children, were killed.”

“Adam,” King Merryweather called, remembering the boy from years ago, and the sheer audacity he had displayed then. “I do not know what you are doing, but you should return.”

“I’m not leaving until they’re dead.”

“In front of us all?”

“Yeah,” Adam replied. ‘Five rounds.’

“You are surrounded. You would die trying. You, your companions, from your brother to your grandfather, and all those beside you. The Iyrmen might be able to leave unscathed, some of them, but there is no need for this.”

“You’ll find that we’re harder to kill than my defenceless children,” Adam replied, glaring at the King through his visor.

It was the look in the half elf’s eyes that caused King Merryweather to pause. Whatever Adam felt, it was real, and whatever it was, Adam was prepared to die for it.

“I’m going to take their heads, and then I’m going to walk away,” Adam whispered, still holding the King’s gaze.

“You are as delusional as I remember,” Sir Dunnock called, the woman glaring at the half elf.

“You should stay out of this, Sir Dunnock. Last time, I was kind enough to let you go, but this time…”

“I remember it differently.”

“I’m sure you do,” Adam replied, his eyes darting to the woman who held a special place even within the Orders here. “I could take you then, and now, when I’m stronger?”

“Which lands did these deaths take place upon?”

“…” Adam swallowed.

“The lands of the Aldish,” Jarot said.

“There is no law against killing demons and goblins,” King Merryweather stated firmly, pausing a moment to allow them to correct him. He was not waiting for a correction upon the laws, he knew them intimately, but there was something he was still partly uncertain of. “You are outnumbered. Surrender, and you will be allowed to leave peacefully, I swear it.”

“I don’t think any of you understand,” Adam said, his voice full of pain. “I’m not even going to invoke the Lord of Death, whose amulet hangs upon my chest. I didn’t come here for the justice of broken laws. I came here for the vengeance of a father, as by my right.”

King Merryweather could see it in the half elf’s eyes. His eyes met Sir Kris’ for a moment, before the King let out a sigh. There was only one way to solve this. “Elder Peace, what is this farce?”

Even King Merryweather knows who to ask.