Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Look, I’m not saying it’s the right thing to do, I’m not, but what’s wrong with handing a few thousand gold to my nieces and nephews?” asked the fool.

“It is better spent elsewhere until they are older and are gifted an inheritance,” replied the fool’s brother. 

“Ashuk, Ashuk, back me up. What do you think? What’s wrong with handing over, I’m not even talking about ten thousand gold, I’m talking like, six, seven, eight, nine, maybe a little more, you know?”

“Six thousand?” Ashuk replied, raising a befuddled brow. 

“Yeah, like nine thousand, maybe a few hundred more, maybe, I don’t know, a copper less than ten thousand, you know?”

“I agree with your brother,” Ashuk admitted. “It is better spent elsewhere, until the children are taught the value of the coin and old enough to spend their coin upon themselves.”

“I don’t see why I can’t do both, give them a lot of money, and also teach them the value of the coin and give them an inheritance when they’re older.”

“It would be a waste of gold, and it is better to invest into others now who are able to spend that coin appropriately, and you would be able to spend coin now in order to earn more money to gift in the future.”

“I’ll just work even harder to make thousands of gold for all the children, I’ll fight in another tournament and get first place, and then I’ll have so much more money,” Adam replied as though winning a tournament was so easy. His mind recalled how easy it was to win the previous tournament, except for the Nightval Blade who had brought him down to a single Health. 

“If you saved that money for betting, you would earn even more,” Ashuk stated.

Adam sighed, shaking his head, annoyed they were both right. ‘I’ll just secretly slip them some silver now and again, that should be fine, right?’

Jurot could see how antsy Adam had become, and if he was behaving so cringe, then something was definitely wrong. However, he allowed the half elf to let out steam by acting the fool for now, while Dunes returned, having missed most of the conversation, which was so wisely brought up once the Priest had gone to pray, otherwise Adam wouldn’t have had the courage to bring it up.

“Did I miss something?” Dunes asked, flashing a wide smile, and upon seeing the guilt upon the half elf’s face, he grinned wider. 

“Anyway-,” Adam began, only to be cut off by the ringing of bells, followed by a booming voice that rippled out from the top of the hill. ‘Oh?’

Though only twenty or so words were spoken, the booming voice had lasted a whole minute, with long pauses between some of the words, while others were elongated for seconds. Kizwolima frowned, reaching up to her ears, covering them as she looked all around, but saw the others around seemed not to be reacting much to the loud noises. Adam smiled, reaching down to rub the top of her head as she hid her face against his side. 

“Is this the first time you have heard it?” Dunes asked.

“I think so?” Adam replied. 

“The call to prayer,” Dunes said, glancing up towards the sky for a moment. “It is noon, so the workers must rest. They will head to the nearby temples, usually, and they will rest at least for one hour, often two.”

“Whoa? A two hour lunch break?” Adam whistled, shaking his head lightly. “Even I only got thirty minutes back in the day!”

Dunes motioned a hand towards the open air tents around them, while the Priests each held large buckets, for the first group which arrived. They were older men, each carrying blades at their side, shorter blades and daggers, though he spotted a handful who wore spears upon their backs, though they placed the spears to one side, their eyes darting about. They each placed down a copper, often times a bigger piece, into the various buckets, while some placed down a silver coin, one particular older man placed down a bigger silver coin, apologising profusely towards the Priest, who tried to dismiss his worries of missing his duties for a while. Many approached the temple proper itself, making their way down the staircase in order to pray, while others quickly sat upon the rugs, back to back, while a handful walked around the perimeter. 

Adam noted that these older men appeared from one entrance, off in their own section, while others appeared within the other three entrances, sometimes lone people, but often times various groups, and as Adam realised, entire families, sat upon the rug, even their babies who glared angrily at the world around them, while other little ones sniffled and cried. Adam spotted that many of the families did not pay, however, the others who arrived to join them each slipped a silver coin into the buckets on their way in.

“Zabir!” a woman called, quite short, her hair blonde and white, her eyes blue, her skin as dark as night, and her smile radiant as the moon. “What brings you all the way here?”

“My daughter has found good work for the season,” Zabir said, motioning a hand to his companions, all the while Adam reached into his cloak to find a few silver pieces, shooting a look to his companions, tossing them each silvers to donate to the temple, though they had already done so, but he realised the people here didn’t see them do that, and he couldn’t let them spread any rumours about their lack of piety, or worse, their lack of silver. 

“Aryashukhur, good work?”

Yasha flushed slightly but smiled. “Aila, the Aldish, they need help with learning how to use a spear.”

John’s eyes darted to the half elf, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. 

“Just a bit of ribbing,” Adam assured.

“She called me Aldish.”

“Y-,” Adam began, though quickly realised what John meant, for he had recognised at least one word in Aswadic. “He’s Florian, and he’s still young, the perfect time to learn how to use a spear, and who better than the Flame Spear Dragon?”

While Yasha smiled slightly, the older woman narrowed her eyes, tapping the young woman’s shoulder. “You must be careful of the ones who are pretty and say pretty words. Tongues of silver, hearts of copper, that is what they say.”

“I think you’ll find my tongue is silver, my heart of gold, and my pouch, filled with jet,“ Adam joked, flashing a wide smile towards the old woman.

“My niece, careful,” the older woman said, before she glanced aside to see Dunes, her smile dropping, the woman bowing her head respectfully. “Mo.”

“Aila,” Dunes replied, holding her outstretched hands, acknowledging her respect.

The woman’s eyes darted to Jurot, nodding her head at the Iyrman, before glancing aside towards the inasir. “A lovely spear.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you mean, thank you?” Adam asked. “This is Zabir’s friend, you can show off your spear to her!”

Ashuk grabbed his spear and offered it to the woman, whose eyes darted to the half elf, befuddled, but she accepted the spear, and suddenly stood up taller, feeling the great tingle of magic within. ‘Arya, take me!’

Zabir smiled slightly, grunting as he stood. “Yasha, Sahla, acho. Let us wash and pray.”

Sahla’s eyes darted to Zabir’s, full of questions, and the old man chuckled as he led the pair away. 

Quickly, the temple filled with all manner of people, though most with a particular theme. Adam could hear more outside, while the various Priests and some of those who had come to eat began to carry out the various basins, while others brought out the dishes, causing Adam to wonder why he hadn’t smelled such delicious foods when he was down there. 

“Oi,” an acolyte called towards another, who replied with a head nod, the acolytes each complete focused upon their tasks. The acolyte shot a look towards the group to one side, which held a Priest of Black Mountain, and the other acolyte slapped his forehead, shaking his forehead for being such an idiot, and swiftly he focused on bringing a meal and treats for them too.  

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine,” Adam said as they brought the meal, while Dunes raised a hand towards the half elf, and he leaned in to whisper something to the acolyte, before reaching into his shirt, revealing a small gem. 

After a small back and forth of the acolyte trying to refuse the gem, he eventually relented and returned with a platter of various biscuits, fruits, and cakes, and Adam sighed, reaching up to unbutton his shirt lightly. 

“Kizwolima, remember, you don’t have to eat so much.”

“My father says he has two tummies, one for food, one for dessert,” the girl replied, sitting up straight, resigning herself to throwing up later in the evening. 

“You’re such a character!” Adam almost howled, pulling the girl close, almost tearing up with how he was trying not burst out into raucous laughter. 

As the prayers and meals began, the others glanced towards the table to one side, and then towards some of the newcomers, who were about to be turned away, except the acolytes found it difficult. 

“Oi, look. Iyrmen. You think they know the other one at the table?”

“You think all Iyrmen know all Iyrmen?”

“They’re going towards them.”

“Oh, you do not say hello to other Aswadians when you are in Aldland?”

“You think I can afford to go to other countries with all the Reavers about?”

“You think I will not slap you in this Temple of War?”

“Go on,” the Aswadian said, offering his cheek. “See how I beat you after.”

The Aswadian clicked his tongue against his teeth, before his eyes darted to the arriving Iyrmen. Each walked without humility within the Temple of War, a few carrying an oppressive glare, and as the Aswadians grew more annoyed at the Iyrmen, they noted the youngest Iyrman, and quickly their eyes darted aside, their minds wandering to how particularly spicy this particular meal was upon this particular day, of particular lack of import.

Kizwolima is the wisest of the group.