Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The temple was forged of sandstone, a complex which sprawled atop the hill, and though the sun bore upon the group viciously, Adam’s calves burned more than the top of his head. Dunes stepped forward, through the archway, which held the Aswadic word for sword in the shape of a sword, that which denoted who the temple belonged to spiritually, displayed proudly even in the Aswadian lands. Once within the temple, Adam noted the large circular building within the centre, also domed, though it was more like a small fort within the walls of the complex, while the space between the walls and the large domed building of sandstone was kept almost entire clear, save for a few small buildings against the walls. 

Dunes waved a hand towards the nearby acolytes, who quickly took in the sight of his vestments, and eagerly approached, greeting the Brother. They each wore long black outfits, loose and light, which covered them from the heat, their turbans providing some relief from the searing sun of Aswadasad, though noonval still pressed upon their dark faces. Each carried blades at their side, the young few carrying blades of wood, while others wore steel shortswords, and others longer blades. 

“Lady bless you,” Dunes called, reaching out to shake the forearms of the various figures who had come to greet him, their eyes beaming. 

Then he appeared, adorned completely in white, carrying a longsword at his side, the man adorned in light chain, his hair as white as his clothing, though he was not wrinkled, so Adam expected him to be sixty or seventy. His eyes blue like the clear sky, his skin almost bronze, his smile brighter than even the noonval sun above as he approached Dunes, who was slightly shorter than the older Priest. 

“Mo Dunes!” the figure called, the called, embracing Dunes in a hug, the Aswadian smiling towards the Malawi.  

“Malawi, you are in good health?”

“Lady Arya blesses me always,” the older man replied, his teeth whiter than even his hair.

“I heard recently you won the fishing competition,” Dunes said, as the Malawi pulled away and clasped his hands behind his back, smiling even more brightly. 

“Fishing and war are two sides of the same coin, if the coin is different,” the Malawi joked, chuckling lightly to himself. “The youth, they think since I am now the Malawi, that I am too busy to teach them a lesson on how to fish.”

Dunes tutted. “What can we do, when the children are growing in a time of such?”

The Malawi raised his brows, shrugging his shoulders, glancing aside to the rest of the Mo’s companions. 

“Kizwolima,” Adam whispered, making sure the girl sipped her water, before allowing her to return to the shade provided by the scarf that Adam had lay upon her, stretching it from his elbow to his neck, keeping it pinned to his cloak using a hook. 

Kizwolima yawned lightly, before noting they were within a complex, and she glanced around, noting the architecture which reminded her of the temples from her own land, and as she glanced around, the realisation dawned on her. She sat up straight, clasping her hands together, muttering a quiet prayer. 

“Malawi, this is Jurot, descendant to Giaroh,” Dunes informed.

“Lady Arya blesses me well today!” the Malawi almost exclaimed, holding out his arms as though to hug Jurot, before reaching out to shake the Iyrman’s forearm.

“The honour is mine,” Jurot replied in Aldish.

“Are you related to the one they call Mad Dog?”

“He is my grandfather.”

“Aryashukhur!” The Malawi reached to his heart, his brows raised in surprise towards Dunes, before taking in the sight of the Iyrman once more. “I see it, I see it, for your eyes tell me you are eager to kill.”

“I am not as wild as grandfather,” Jurot assured. “My brother, he is as wild.”

Adam flushed lightly, clearing his throat as the Malawi’s eyes fell upon him, flickering across his tattoo for a moment, and then to his leaf shaped ears. “Lady Arya bless you.”

The Malawi reached out a hand, noting the symbol made of obsidian, bowing his head lightly. “Lady Arya, and Baktu, bless you, Mo.”

“Though it is Baktu who has accepted me, I am close with Lady Arya too, who I owe a great favour towards,” Adam replied, bowing his head far more deeply, causing the Malawi to bow his head once more in respect to the admiration from the half elf’s voice. 

“You are… brothers?”

“Jurot is my brother, his grandfather is my grandfather, and my children are his nieces and nephews, and his children are my children,” Adam stated firmly.

“They are my children,” Jurot replied bluntly. 

“Do you see this? He’s so greedy, this guy!” Adam tutted, placing Kizwolima down, nodding his head to Jash, the half elf rolling his shoulder lightly, the numbness pulsing through his left arm. 

The Malawi then noted the appearance of the others, taking a moment as he stared at the inasir, before furrowing his brows. “Ashuk the Spear?”

“Greetings, Malawi.”

“Welcome to Our Fair Temple Under Seven Suns of Lady Arya,” the Malawi called, shaking the water inasir’s forearms, clasping hands together for a moment, his eyes darting between Dunes and Ashuk, wondering what was going on. 

“We have come to hire the services for sparring,” Dunes informed with an innocent smile. “Adam and Ashuk wish to spar later. Fairly, gently, privately.”

“Aryashukhur, we are blessed to see a great fight today,” the Malawi said, before noting the look within Dunes’ eyes. “I shall clear a chamber.”

“Some guests will arrive, many of our party, mostly Iyrmen, and also those of the Windy Warhawk,” Dunes added.

“Shukhur,” the Malawi replied, and he motioned a hand to one of the acolytes, whispering for them to clear an underground chamber for the spar, with a keen look within his eye. 

“Is there, uh, any chance I could pray to Lady Arya?” Adam asked, reaching into his cloak, revealing a small gem worth ten, only to look around, and he reached into his cloak for another gem, one worth fifty, summoning it from his magical ring. 

“Of course, Mo Adam,” the Malawi replied, motioning a hand for Adam to follow him, as the other acolytes escorted his companions towards the wall, already beginning to set up a tent for them all, though the others began to set up other the rest of the tents, and brought out carpets for the rest of the visitors who would arrive soon, for noon was soon upon them. 

Adam noted how plain the dome building was, up until he noted the dome was made up of hundreds of thousands of tiny fragments, each intricately carved with details, covered in grey and silver paint, which seemed to have been freshly applied. As they stepped through the large doorway, the Malawi stopped him, opening the trapdoor to an area within, blasting them with cool air, revealing a staircase leading underground. The half elf shuddered lightly, and Kizwolima let out a small sigh, revealing her presence beside Adam, while Jash followed silently. 

The Malawi led them to the underground bathhouse, where they could complete their ablution, Jash assisting Kizwolima, the group washing their hands, faces, arms, and feet, before heading up the stairs into the temple proper, leaving their boots behind. 

The room was circular, with a staircase leading upwards directly in front of them, while the rest of the extremely large room was bare, with the wall covered in thick rugs which covered the presence of the rest of the furniture, giving the illusion that the walls were an entire arm thick. There were four statues in the middle of the circular domed building, each depicting the same woman in various poses, the half elf smiling, feeling the familiarity from them.

“It’s good to see you again,” Adam said, bowing his head towards the statue, before finally approaching it. Kizwolima stuck to Adam’s side, her eyes darting around the area, and as Adam knelt before one of the statues, she did the same, clasping her hands together and aggressively praying within her mind and with all her heart. 

The Malawi furrowed his brows at the tone in which Adam spoke to the Divine, which felt far too familiar. However, the Malawi prostrated himself before the statues, completing his prayers, leaving himself defenceless to an Adam who wore his magical axe. If he had been a fellow who truly hated the Priests, he had the perfect opportunity to kill the Malawi.

“I hope you are well, Lady Arya,” Adam whispered as part of his prayers, the half elf knelt, his head bowed, his eyes shut tight. “If there is anything you need of me, please let me know.”

The gentle warmth pressed upon the half elf, like a pair of hands upon his shoulders, and he felt the reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m glad to see you are doing well, although, I suppose, at a time like this…” Adam smiled, and he peeked open an eye towards the statue. 

The half elf waited for the Malawi, who spent a couple of minutes in his prayer, whispering something in High Aswadian, or High Aswadic as one might have called it if they were less nationalistic, and once he was done, he bowed his head before the statue once more. He glanced aside towards Adam, having all but left his body during his prayers, having missed how the half elf prayed. 

“The girl prays so fervently,” the Malawi said. 

Adam smiled, reaching down to rub Kizwolima’s head, the girl gasping as she was brought back to the world. “Are you okay?” 

“Okay! Lady Arya told me to stay by your side, mister Adam!”

“She did?” Adam asked. 

“She said it to my heart!”

“Oh my, oh my, aren’t you lucky?” Adam smiled. “Lady Arya is right, since I’ll definitely protect you.”

“Yes!”

Jash raised her brows in surprise, especially as the half elf glanced towards the statue, as though it had spoken to him, and the half elf bowed his head, as though it were truly his duty. 

“Are you happy the Lady spoke to you?” Adam asked. 

“Yes! I never heard the Divine before!” Kizwolima replied, her voice high with excitement. 

“Yes, you are so special, since the Divine rarely speak with others,” Adam said, flashing a wide smile. “Lady Arya is one of the good ones!”

‘Did he…’ Jash thought, noting the wide smile, almost smirk, upon the half elf’s lips.

“Malawi,” an acolyte whispered, drawing his attention. “It is soon time for the call to prayer.”

“Escort our guests, I will prepare,” the Malawi stated, glancing back towards the trio once more, since it seemed something serious had happened. ‘I should have studied Elementi.’

Why study for years when you can spend 1000 XP?