Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Jurot,” Adam called, having decided to be troublesome for the Iyr. “Do you know what Aswadasad looks like?”

“I know of its general terrain,” Jurot admitted. He borrowed Adam’s journal, sketching within it. “It is more than a thousand miles wide, and four hundred miles tall along most of its land. Almost half of the land is mountains, and it is split so.”

As Jurot drew the rough estimate of the mountains, Adam’s brows raised. It was split diagonally by the mountains, but the mountains almost swallowed the right half of the country.

“This area now is Aswabayad.”

“Whoa! Aswadasad lost half of its territory? The northern forest too?” Adam raised his brows.

“Eastern Aswadasad has formed into Aswabayad, though they gained the northern forests, and the newly formed ejirate lost the mountains to the west. We should be careful when we travel through Northern Aswadasad, for the Faro may still feel the hurt of losing much of her territory, while Central Aswadasad and Southern Aswadasad have both expanded their own.”

“Alright…”

“Most of the mountains were formed by Lord Stokmar. Central Aswadasad is this large desert and hill area. These mountains here,” Jurot motioned to a small group of mountains near the north, “they belong to the Shen, for the capital is slightly southward. Through the hills, and to the eastern side of the mountain, is the Order of Black Mountain.”

“Is that a map of Aswadasad?” Dunes asked, holding Enisa, taking the girl away to nap, though he was distracted by Jurot’s map.

“Yes.”

‘I thought they only followed the southern coastline?’ Dunes thought, surprised at how accurate Jurot’s geography was of Aswadasad. He spotted a few dots within the map. “Are these dots to represent the dragons?”

“Yes.”

Dunes noted how few there were considering the large number of dragons within Aswadasad, however, they were placed with terrifying accuracy. ‘…’

“Why did you mark off this area?” Adam asked, motioning towards the area closest to what was now Floria.

“It is the land of the halfzers.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember them,” Adam said. “The Mongolian halfzers, right?”

“The what?”

“I mean, they ride boars and shoot with their bows.”

“Yes. Many are also Rage Dancers.”

Adam snorted slightly. “That’s so adorable! I should have a halfzer kid, since they’ll stay so small and cute forever, like my twins.”

“They would be an Iyrman child.”

“You know what I meant!”

“Aswabayad has almost as much land as Aswadasad,” Jurot said, beginning to draw more towards the land’s east. “The mountain continues around the north, all the way like a dragon’s tail, before stopping near the coast. This area here was also once part of Aswadasad, but now forms the Western Confederate States. It was once one state, but split into four. Even all this was once under the rule of a Shen’s family, during a time when there were multiple Shens. After a civil war, the land was divided between two Faros. One declared independence, and since then, their family was unable to lose its influence over the region. Here, the Blood River splits the land.”

“It’s a river that goes straight down?”

“Yes. It is where Azhar’s Roads stop.”

“Azhar?” Adam furrowed his brows, vaguely recalling the name.

“The Faro of the land which had formed the roads so he could war with his cousins to the west,” Jurot replied.

“Oh yeah, you mentioned something about a web?”

“Azhar’s Web, another name for the roads.”

“Man, that place sounds so cool,” Adam whispered, staring at the map.

Dunes eventually retreated away once Adam was done fussing over the girl. ‘Even Jurot knows that much of our history?’

“It has been quiet for some time, but every few years, they will skirmish. The skirmishes are a business conducted between ten and fifty times a century.”

“Damn.”

“The Faro still holds most of the influence in the Western Confederate States. They are difficult to deal with, and they have yet to turn their blades east to assist with the war against the Empire.”

“Is that still going on?”

“Yes.”

“Damn…” Adam stared down at the map. “Are there a lot of Orders there too?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s not pick fights with them.”

Jurot frowned. “Okay.”

“You want to pick fights with them?”

“It would be a good story… for Damrot.”

“How can you invoke my son’s name like this?”

“He is my son.”

“The audacity!”

Adam began to enchant the Greater Enhanced weapons as the month passed, but as he did, they had started to rise again.

“So it started today?” Adam asked, climbing up the stairs towards the edge of the wall, to find the villagers sweeping away the bones of the skeletons which had swarmed them.

Dunes nodded, his eyes taking in the sight of the dozens of villagers. “Jonn assisted Nobby.”

“What about Tork?”

“He was unable to assist, due to the…”

“To the?”

Dunes motioned a head to one side, where the Iyrmen gathered together to drink and eat. They were loud and boisterous, healed from their skirmish with the Aldishmen, speaking their tales to the children who remained.

“Ah.” Adam took in the sight of the bones. “Should I stop working and go out to fight?”

“No,” Jurot replied, emerging from nowhere in particular. “I will go.”

“Alright.”

The next day, once Adam returned from his enchanting, he noted how many Iyrmen were littered with marks, even his brother, Jurot of the Rot family, was a canvas of blue and black.

“What happened?” Adam asked, doing his best to control his voice, though it shook with concern.

“There were many today,” Jurot replied simply.

“Do I need to warn you about having too much fun?” Adam asked, his eyes glued to his brother’s. The pair remained glaring at one another, a shadow of a smile appearing on Jurot’s face. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?”

As they ate dinner, Adam listened intently to the words of the Iyrmen, about the King’s army, which had grown in the last few years, and were finally making their way en mass towards the islands, claiming their prize.

‘I guess they could take their time since Aswadasad was still busy with their own civil war?’ Adam thought, only then recalling that the pathway towards the islands was the strait between Floria and Aswadasad.

“King Merryweather has always held the respect from our people, and I am glad to say it was rightly given,” Dunes said. “With the union between Floria and Aswadasad, Aldland may find it difficult to claim the islands so easily.”

“King Merryweather’s army is defensive in nature,” Jurot replied. “Aldland’s army is not large enough to threaten Floria, yet. King Justinian has made several blunders, but they are rare. He will not risk his navy when he still needs to claim the islands truly, and King Merryweather still possesses Garan’s Wrath.”

“Garan’s Wrath?” Adam asked.

“The greatest ship to exist,” Dunes said, almost breathless. “It was kept within Gold Port for a long while, but the King has placed it in active duty once more.”

“What makes it so great anyway?”

“It is one of the most powerful ships and one of the quickest,” Jurot stated.

“It is one of the reasons why Aswadasad lost its bid for the islands,” Dunes said. “However, if the union between Floria and Aswadasad continues to grow, Aldland may find itself in trouble.”

“The bad blood between Floria and Aswadasad may take time to soften.”

“Not as long as you might expect,” Dunes replied. “Even as a boy, I was taught many stories in the Order. As much as Aldland has always been our rival, sometimes to the point of us holding a shadowed heart for the Aldish, as they might for us, we were taught of the sun known as Sir Harold Merryweather. I dare to say, Aswadasad still holds today because it was King Merryweather who kept his word. Even if Aldland did not attack, even if another had drawn their blade for us, a union may not have been offered, but for King Merryweather?”

“It is ill news that Blackwater’s influence is falling,” Sonarot said, the woman holding Virot, who glared at her father. Virot then smirked.

“It is?” Adam replied.

“He was only allowed to expand the army upon the relinquishing of many age old traditions,” Sonarot informed. “Many soldiers will come under his authority, however, the ducal families are now able to increase their own soldiers in return, and now they have permission to create their own Knightly Orders. Aldland could field many thousands, a hundred thousand with ease, but they were conscripts. Farmers forced to wield spears, adorned in a helmet, and thick clothing. No longer shall they send farmers to battle, but true soldiers, those adorned in thick armour, wielding spears, marching in formation. The Knightly Orders will supplement the army with greater warriors, like those of the Orders, which must still hold their obligation to the King.”

“The Florian Defence force will hold for now,” Dunes said, rubbing his chin. “Though, once the King of Floria passes…”

“If there is even a play for the throne by those of his family, Aldland will claim Floria again,” Sonarot said.

“King Merryweather is… old.” Dunes shuddered slightly. King Merryweather was a legend even by the time of his Priest Commander’s childhood, and the now King’s beard had begun greying by the time the Mad Dog had left the Iyr to make a name for himself.

“He is still healthy…” Sonarot glanced towards Jurot. “Do you agree?”

“I do,” Jurot said, recalling how his arm throbbed. “When I fought him last year, I was only able to keep him at bay due to luck.”

“You kept him at bay pretty good though,” Adam said, holding out a fist, Jurot bumping it gently, the Iyrman holding the shadow of a smile upon his face.

“The splitting of Aldland and Aswadasad…” Dunes began, only remembering he was meant to be the wise one as his eyes darted to Adam.

Adam thought back to Starsword’s warning. His hair stood on end as he thought of the figure, which made the Grand Commander look like a puppy. ‘Is it… really my fault?’

“Daddy! Why do you look so sad?” Jirot asked, charging up towards him.

“I was just thinking.”

“Silly daddy, how you can think? Stop it!” Jirot grabbed her father’s hand. “Come! I will make you happy, daddy.”

“I’m already happy now that you are here.”

“I know, because I am so amazing,” the girl said, as though it were her burden to bear. “Daddy, we have to make it now.”

“Make it?” Adam asked.

Jirot blinked. “Stop joking, daddy. We must make it for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

Jirot huffed, her eyes falling to her grandmother for help. As Sonarot smiled, the girl wiped her hand across her face, letting out a long sigh. “What I am to do with him?”

I think this next arc is slow but not quite as repetitive as I originally thought.