Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Why didn’t we let Vonda speak on our behalf if it was so easily to deal with them?” Adam asked, rubbing his pounding forehead.

“She did,” Jurot replied.

“She was successful,” Kitool added.

“Oh?” Adam replied, trying to recall all the times his wife stepped forward. “We still got into that much trouble?”

“Yes,” the pair replied, while the others all looked towards the source of that trouble.

“Damn…” Adam whispered sheepishly, his cheeks flushing. “I really nerfed her after she married me, huh?”

Jurot narrowed his eyes slightly, fairly certain Adam had used the word before. ‘It means… weaken?’

‘Sorry, Vonda. I’ll better myself for you.’ Adam thought back to all the times she had stepped forward to protect him. ‘Why is my wife manlier than me?’

“We must be careful here,” Jurot said, his voice not quite a whisper. “Wolf Father is considered a Paragon in the Shadows.”

“Does that mean he hasn’t stated he’s one but you’re fairly certain he is?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“Man, you guys are so poetic sometimes.”

Jurot resisted the look of awe upon Adam’s face, which was tempered by the fear he held for the Iyr. “Father Boar is considered a Paragon too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He was considered so a decade ago,” Jurot warned.

“Whoa! Really?” Adam rubbed his chin, his brows raised in alarm. “If that’s the case, he might even be Level 18 or 19? He might even be Level 20.”

Jurot tried to recall what those numbers meant, but considering Adam’s thoughts, they were more than likely true. “He is a Rage Dancer.”

“Oh…” Adam furrowed his brows. “Huh? Not an Oathsworn?”

“No.”

“The North and the West have different traditions with their Orders,” Kitool explained lightly. “Their Orders developed in a different manner, though they also swear their Oaths, and many are still Oathsworn.”

“Father Boar is one of the few grandfather was unable to defeat during his journey,” Jurot said, recalling one of the few tales in which Jarot was unable to gain his revenge, and not for the lack of trying. It was one of the times Jarot had almost died after he had grown powerful.

“Whoa…” Adam whispered. ‘The old geezer was only really stopped by a handful of people, wasn’t he? Father Boar, Ice Guy, and some dragons or something?’

As Adam tried to recall all those the Mad Dog complained about, the other Iyrmen remained on duty, keeping an eye out upon the soldiers around, who gave them a wide berth.

“The time for the fight has passed,” Timojin stated.

“I was merely going to request a spar,” Amokan replied innocently.

“Once we depart the group in Red Oak, we may return to request a fight.”

Amokan grumbled quietly to himself, but Timojin had a point. They couldn’t pick a fight now, not when everyone was on edge, and they were still in Adam’s company. ‘We cannot allow them an excuse to draw their blades when we recently took our justice.’

The Commander had taken Mork and Dunes to one side, escorted by Tork and Jonn, to share tea with the Brothers. Since Mork had personally stepped forward, he needed to react accordingly, and since he had mentioned Brother Dunes, the Commander couldn’t ignore the Aswadian. However, the Commander had wished to share tea with one figure in particular.

“I hope all is well in the fort, Commander,” Mork said, sipping his tea lightly. “If you require, I may lead a prayer for the soldiers as gratitude for your hard work in watching over this area.”

“How could we ask for such a thing, Brother?” Commander Theodore was certain he wasn’t allowed to spend so much gold upon the Brother, especially if he was allowing Adam to slip through his fingers.

Mork smiled politely, realising he couldn’t press upon the Commander, who was certainly thinking of his budget. ‘I was trying to pray for you freely, Commander.’

“It is rare for Aldland and Aswadasad to fight alongside one another,” Dunes said, smiling brightly, his white teeth contrasted further by his black beard. “It is an honour to see such within my life time, and if it would be appropriate, I would like to offer a prayer, to thank Lady Arya for such an honour.”

‘Lady Arya?’ Theodore thought. “Are you by any chance from Northern Aswadasad?”

“I am Brother Dunes of Black Mountain.”

“Are you from the Order?” Theodore asked, barely able to recall the Priest. ‘Was he with the half elf last time?’

“It is my honour to say that I am,” Dunes confirmed.

“I had no idea. Please forgive my rudeness for not greeting you properly, Brother Dunes of Black Mountain.” Theodore bowed his head, clasping his hands together. “Had I known I was in the presence of the esteemed Black Mountain, I would have humbled myself before you.”

“You honour me enough with your words,” Dunes replied, flashing another wide smile. “I had the privilege of travelling through Aldland, and though the war raged between our countries, I was left be and was treated respectfully.”

Dunes decided against mentioning how the Aldish had treated Amira, nor that he was treated respectfully because the Aldish were too busy troubling the Iyrmen and the half elf who he travelled with.

“I am ashamed to say that your prayer may not be appreciated by my soldiers, who find themselves preferring a good drink, rather than listening to such great divinity.”

“I was hoping to ease the relationship between the United Kindom and Aldland through my prayer, for I currently find myself a Manager within the business, and I know there is some matter between the Executive and various Aldishmen.”

“You are a… Manager?” Theodore thought about the other Manager he knew from the United Kindom, a Ray of Life’s Rose. Yet, there was another Manager who was from Black Mountain?

“I am returning to Black Mountain in order to speak with the Priest Commander about my role within the business,” Dunes stated, smiling politely towards the Commander. The Aswadian’s smile and eyes let slip more towards the Commander. “It is my hope to bridge the misunderstanding between the Executive and the Aldish.”

The Commander remained in thought for a long moment, trying to understand Dunes, not his words, but his position within the business. ‘How did…’

‘This much should be enough?’ Dunes thought, hoping he hadn’t stoked the flames of curiosity too much. Just enough, and the Commander could think about the matters himself, and if he was as wise as Dunes had thought, then there wouldn’t be much trouble.

Dunes wasn’t sure how he felt as the Commander invited the half elf to drink. He let out a guilty pair of eyes towards the Iyrmen, who tried to understand what had happened for the Commander to request for Adam.

“Okay,” Jurot said, causing Adam to glance his way in surprise, however it made sense as to why Jurot allowed Adam to step into the lion’s den, since he remained glued to his brother’s side.

The half elf sat opposite the Commander. He was an old man as pale as time, who wore his wrinkles with pride, like the medals over his breastplate. He wore full plate armour, a long dark cape draped over his shoulders, and at his side he wore a long blade, a blade heavy with death.

As the Commander poured him a cup of tea, the half elf smiled, letting out a gentle sigh. “Thank you for the tea, Commander.”

“You are welcome, Brother, or would you prefer the title of Executive?”

“I would prefer the title of Executive,” Adam admitted, smirking playfully towards the old man, seeing how much his words were already causing the old man stress. “It’s my honour to receive a cup of tea from you.”

Theodore wondered if all this speak of honour was more sarcastic he was picking up on, but seeing the delight on the half elf face as he sipped the tea, he was uncertain. “Do you enjoy tea?”

“Yeah. It reminds me of home.” Adam’s eyes stared into the dark liquid, and he wished he had some milk and sugar to mix into the tea. ‘This isn’t so bad, though…’

“Where is your home?”

“Now, now, you don’t think I’ll give up all that information so easily, do you?” Adam joked, sipping his tea lightly, the fruity flavours dancing along his tongue. “I was thinking this tea isn’t so bad, but it’s better and better after each time I sip it. I suppose if I’ll want to know more about it, I’ll have to ask permission from the Divine.”

The Commander held the half elf’s eyes, and though the half elf’s lips were a smirk, those eyes dared for the Commander to ask him. “Is it knowledge which requires permission of the Divine?”

“Whose to say?” Adam smiled wider, before placing down the cup of tea, taking a moment to inhale the vapours, which cleared his chest, and the tightness within his heart. As the half elf’s body relaxed, so did his eyes. “So, you want to know if it’s true?”

“…” Theodore remained silent.

“Whether this idiot before you was the one who cut the Grand Commander’s neck clean off?”

Jurot let out a soft sigh, feeling the stress burden his shoulders, the kind only his brother could bring to him.

The audacity of this leaf ear.