Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Hey! Hey! What the hell are you doing?” Adam asked, his voice strained with shock, the half elf reaching for his die, motioning with his hands as he called out the words of magic. 

Mana: 22 -> 19

Spell: Fly

The half elf leapt off the wall, flying down towards the Iyrmen, though he did his best to avoid looking at the heads staked into the ground. 

“We are setting up the warning,” Baztam said, watching over the Iyrmen in place of the Chief. 

“What for?”

“To protect the Iyr,” Baztam replied, dealing with Adam’s questions effectively, contrasting the way he fought. 

“What do you mean?”

“You will see.”

“No, I won’t,” Adam replied, swallowing, as his eyes met Baztam’s, which were full of curiosity. 

“…” The Iyrman hadn’t expected Adam to fight him so overtly. “If you wish for us to stop this, speak with the Chief.”

“I’ll do just that,” the half elf stated, flying over to the fort, where the Chief awaited. 

Hearing Adam’s exasperated words, the Chief’s eyes drifted over to the side. It was awkward, of course, considering one of the figures nearby, adorned in her modesti, the long clothing which covered her entire body save for her face, and then his eyes fell down to her silver amulet, that of a rose emerging from the silver sun. 

“It is temporary,” Chief Iromin assured. 

“Temporary? Chief, it shouldn’t be a thing for seconds, never mind temporary!”

“My responsibility is to the Iyr, Adam,” the Chief stated firmly, holding the half elf’s desperate gaze. 

Adam clenched his fists together, before splaying out his hands in front of him, and for once he was lost for words. The frustration grew within the half elf, who typically went along with the Iyr’s shenanigans, but this time, they had gone too far. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You will see.”

“Oh, come on!”

Adam did see, along with many others who swarmed the walls as Bael called out. As Adam climbed the walls, with the evening sun falling upon the fort, he looked eastward, towards the small army which approached the village. Adam counted at least two hundred within heavy armour, while almost as many followed along, those who did not fight, but worked to assist the army with miscellaneous matters.

‘Is this…’

“Come, Adam,” Iromin called, escorting the half elf towards the village, his aides trailing after them. 

As the small group stepped out of the business, several others joined. Iromin had already slowed down for Adam to keep up, but it also helped the likes of Tanagek and the one legged Jarot, while other Iyrmen also accompanied the half elf.

The Countess rode upon her steed, flanked by two of her Oakguard, while the other five remained with their small companies. She wore a lighter breastplate, emblazoned with the titular tree of her family so proudly, the long cloak hiding much of her form away from the Iyrmen. Her Oakguard were similarly adorned in their own armour, full plate, with long cloaks, the colour of dried blood, while the blades at their side were far more vibrant.

The Countess almost floated off of her horse, her cloak parting to reveal the rest of her armour, fluttering in the gentle wind, revealing the blade at her side. She removed her helmet, revealing her stark white hair, her light wrinkles, and the look of exhaustion within her dark eyes, which came from the recent dealings with the Iyr. 

“Chief Iromin.”

“Countess Redoak,” Iromin replied, while his aides stopped, causing the others to freeze behind him, while the Chief approached and greeted the noble. 

The Countess ignored the sight of the Iyrmen staking the skulls on the other side of the river, smiling politely towards the Chief. “I have come to retrieve the bodies of the dead.”

“A difficult request,” Iromin replied, with a smile that betrayed just how much he enjoyed hearing her words. “The bodies are to be spread across the Iyr’s land.”

“I request for their return, so they may know peace.”

“They know the peace within Baktu’s embrace.”

“Consider our relationship, Chief.”

Iromin paused for a moment. He gazed upon the soldiers around, taking in the sight of the seven Oakguard. The Sixth and Seventh Branch of the Oakguard accompanied her, while the First through the Fifth led their own companies. She had not come to fight, but she was taking them seriously at least. 

“Your Oakguard may claim the bodies,” the Chief finally said, since she had shown them enough respect. 

The Countess inhaled sharply, before letting out a soft sigh. ‘I should not mention the King’s displeasure.’ “I wish to hear of the matter.”

Chief Iromin explained the situation generally to the patient Countess, who grew towards her wit’s end. “However, the Grand Commander’s body is to remain, for it was a condition of the duel.”

“I am certain the duel was conducted justly, but who was it who slew the Grand Commander?” Countess Lottie Redoak asked, her mind already wandering to several figures who had bothered her recently, and more who had made a name for themselves the last year during the Folly of Merryweather. 

“He wished to claim justice against Adam,” Iromin said, motioning a hand towards the half elf. “Upon completion of the duel, the bodies belonged to the Iyr, as well as all their personal effects. You may claim the bones of those who wished to break their word, but not the one who kept his.”

The Countess remained silent for a long while, for the body of the Grand Commander was the most important body, but there was something else the Chief had stated. ‘Did he just say that the boy killed the Grand Commander?’

One of the Oakguard stepped closer, whispering into the Countess’ ear, before she motioned a hand and allowed him to step forward. The Oakguard removed his helmet, revealing a handsome face, with reddish brown hair, now whitened with age, and green eyes. 

“Sir Merrick, Seventh Branch of the Oakguard,” the man bowed his head lightly towards the Chief.

“Chief Iromin, of the Iyr,” Iromin replied, bowing his head lightly in return.

“Did you say it was Adam who slew the Grand Commander?”

“I did.”

“May I speak with him?”

“You may.”

“It has been a few years since we last spoke,” Merrick called, offering his forearm to the half elf. 

Adam stepped forward, reaching out to shake the Oakguard’s forearm. “Yeah. It’s been a while.”

“You slew the Grand Commander?”

“I was lucky,” Adam replied. 

“It was luck?”

“Well, I mean…” Adam swallowed slightly, noting the gazes all around him, before thinking of those who had accompanied him here, especially the red skinned figure with the limp. “I suppose I didn’t need luck to beat-,”

“Adam,” the Chief warned, instantly cutting off the half elf, whose smile dropped.

“The ill blood between yourself and the Order of the Thousand Hunts, the Order of High Garden, how did it come to be?” Merrick asked cautiously. 

“They killed my sons.”

“So, it was you? You’re the Crazy Father?”

“Excuse me?” Adam asked.

“That is what they call you, the one who slew the Vice Commander for… the demons.”

“Iyrmen,” called the symphony of Iyrmen glaring at the Oakguard. 

“Perhaps I am a little crazy when it comes to my children, since they’re so cute,” Adam replied, his cheeks flushing red, only matched by the bright white smile. 

‘How quickly you have grown…’ Merrick thought, recalling how weak he had been all those years ago, but even back then, he had faced Vandra with too much courage. “I did not expect you to defeat the likes of the Grand Commander.”

“It’s all thanks to the magical equipment the Enchanter has gifted me with,” the half elf replied. “Oh, and my darling niece.”

“You are an… Executive, was it?”

“Yeah. Since I’m a decent enough alchemist, I was given the position of High Alchemist.”

‘Was he that good at alchemy?’ Merrick thought, recalling the issue with the High Alchemist of Red Oak. 

‘That boy?’ Countess Redoak thought, finally recalling Adam properly. ‘The crazy half elf who abandoned Sir Harvey in order to face Vandra. However, how did he kill the Grand Commander? He was not so strong that he would be able to…’ The Countess recalled the rumours, realising there was something with Adam’s name, and seeing him in his purple breastplate, she began to remember more.

“Adam is no Iyrman,” Countess Redoak said, her voice accusatory. 

“He is not,” the Chief confirmed.

“That makes the situation complicated.”

“Is it so?”

Countess Redoak remained silent. It would be difficult for her to leave the Grand Commander’s body, but she needed to claim something for the price of that body, and to try and clear the situation between Aldland and the Iyr. Since it had happened so close to Red Oak, she was partly responsible, and if she didn’t manage to deal with the situation, the King might try to claim even more influence over her region. 

“There is some doubt between how a young man such as this half elf was able to slay the Grand Commander.”

“If there is doubt, there is doubt.”

‘What?’ Countess Lottie Redoak narrowed her eyes slightly at the Chief. ‘Are you going to… over this young man?’

The Chief remained a statue before her, imposing and unyielding.

“Are you able to accept such trouble during such a time?” Countess Redoak stated firmly, hoping the Iyrman would relent, not just for her sake, but for the sake of the Iyr, especially considering just how eager the King was to test his new army. 

“Okay,” Iromin said, after a long moment. “We will hand Adam over.”

Adam straightened up, as though he had been slapped in the face. ‘What the hell?’

It’s your own fault at this point...