Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The figure stood tall and proud, as one might have expected, adorned in full plate, the entire breastplate covered in Aswadic script. At his side he wore a large blade, not quite a greatsword, but larger than the typical longsword, and curved towards the tip. The hilt was wrapped within black leather, a small black gem set deep within its pommel, while Aswadic script flowed along the blade.

‘I beg forgiveness.’

“To think you would have to fight against a little boy,” another heavily armoured figure said, his eyes dark, his beard darker, his skin almost darker, which made it rather difficult to line his beard every morning, though his moustache flowed out like waves of blood, dyed red. One may have supposed he should stop dying his hair black, but the old man’s hair was as white as snow, and he was also considered the second strongest within Black Mountain, so no one dared to speak up against him. The old man also wore a breastplate, equally as engraved as his companion, and he carried a blade at his side, one as red as blood, also engraved with the Aswadic script.

‘Blood for the Lady.’

“I do not understand the fuss of this boy, but the Malawi threatened to cut my neck clean off if I dared to surrender before the fight had even begun, so the boy must have spilled his tea,” the First Blade of Jabal Adh Aswad stated, his voice low, full of annoyance.

“I saw the Mustashalur before I arrived,” the Second Blade admitted, narrowing his eyes slightly at the fool in purple, who was currently showing off to the little merman girl, who reached up to rub her forehead, trying to understand how she could deal with such an audacious brat. “Brother Salim, did you know what he said?”

“Shukhur, who am I to refuse the Mustashalur’s wise words from you, brother Aziz, who would dare not to speak his own words while pretending to speak the Mustashalur’s words,” First Blade Salim replied, tugging his gloves slightly.

“Shukhur, he said this half elf would defeat you,” Second Blade Aziz stated, his voice full of humour.

“I will speak with the Mustashalur to see if he said the words.”

“Brother Salim, I say he spoke the words,” Aziz stated firmly, this time his voice was devoid of humour, while he motioned a hand towards one of the nearby servants, who slipped away.

Salim stared at the fool of a half elf, with Aziz’s words tickling the back of his mind. Aziz wouldn’t have spoken a lie twice, especially after being threatened, meaning…

“You do not believe this brother of yours, even after all these years?” Adilnur asked, sipping the pink tea, the servant rushing up to Aziz, bringing him a cup too, while other servants began to bring trays for the rest of the figures who had joined to watch. The First, Second, and Fifth Blades had all gathered, including their respective Sheaths, while the Fourth was in charge of the patrols that month, so could not come to watch. However, she had sent word ahead, having heard of the spar, and had bet fifty gold upon the half elf.

“My eyes are not as good as yours, so I must see it for myself,” Hassan replied, standing tall and alert, his hands wrapped behind his back.

“Brother, you must understand, every century there are figures who are such, and there is no shame to lose to them, no matter how old one may be,” Adilnur said, sipping his tea.

As much as Hassan wanted to reply back, requesting for his brother to believe in Black Mountain, perhaps trying to pull at his heartstrings, that he should show loyalty to this home of his, but he knew better than to tease his brother in such a way, especially at this moment.

“Taygak,” Adam called, stretching his neck from side to side. “I would ask you to watch carefully, but this time, I’m going to be fighting for someone else, so you can just enjoy your tea if you want.”

“Okay.”

Adam fell silent for a moment. “Actually, make sure you watch carefully too, otherwise I might lose.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Tanagek glanced aside to Chosen, who returned a playful smirk, and the pair returned their attention back to the three Blades and the Sheaths who had appeared to watch the fight. Suddenly, things had become very difficult for them, for the Sheaths who had arrived were certainly all Grandmasters, save perhaps the Fifth, while the Sheaths were all at least Masters, some greater, though they did not reach the rank of Grandmaster. Tanagek recalled Amokan’s words, about how they had been surrounded by so many of the Orders, and how his heart trembled with such excitement.

‘Perhaps one day you will understand,’ Amokan had said, in that infuriating tone of his, with that horrendously charming smile upon his face.

It was a shame, perhaps, that they had no reason to cause trouble within the Order.

Yet.

“Relax,” Chosen said, feeling his hairs stand on end, ready to draw his blade to spill blood, more so than ever before in his life. “Today is not the day.”

Tanagek was fairly certain Chosen was speaking to himself, mostly, but he took the words to heart, bowing his head gently.

‘Why are you both always eager to fight?’ Kitool thought, narrowing her eyes slightly, realising she had adopted two more children into the group. She let out a sigh, one familiar to the likes of her cousin, and Laygak, who glanced her way, before his eyes darted to Faool, elbowing him lightly.

John stood awkwardly before Jonn and Nobby, beside Yasha whose eyes darted all around the individuals, eyeing up all the Blades and Sheaths. He was only slightly familiar with them, though as his eyes darted towards a particular Sheath, one who stepped up towards them, he straightened up. As far as he was aware, the Sheaths were almost like the Rays of Life’s Rose, except instead of being Priests who knew Third Gate spells, they were Oathsworn who knew Third Gate spells.

“Brother,” Fatima, one of the Sheaths, called out, extending out a hand to grab the older man’s within her own. “How do you fare?”

“Sister, I am well,” Zabir replied, his head swaying slightly as he replied. “How are you?”

“Shukhur, I am well, always, blessed,” the woman replied, patting the back of his hand gently. “I told you to come visit thirty years ago, but you have only come now?”

Meanwhile the other Sheaths who knew of Fatima glanced between one another, uncertain as to why she, of all people, had gone to greet a random fellow within the group, and not even the Lion King, but this guy?

Zabir held out his hands, biding time to recall how he knew this woman, shrugging his shoulders. “I have been so busy. I returned home, had my own child to watch after, then a granddaughter, and I had to study so hard to become a Mulazim.”

“Aryahabi! Congratulations on your grandchild! Yes, I remember, you said you wished to become a Mulazim in Arisa. I went many times, but I always forgot to visit.”

“I am blessed to have been in your thoughts, Sister,” Zabir said, trying to recall what had happened thirty years ago for them to meet. Last he recalled, it was when his son was still quite young, a teenager at the time, meaning it must have been around the time he was studying to become a Mulazim.

“Is this your granddaughter?” The woman reached a hand out to clasp Yasha’s. “Asaym, betti.”

“Walay, Sister,” Yasha replied, holding the woman’s rough hands within her own.

“You are so blessed,” Fatima said. “Your granddaughter holds such rough hands, and such bright eyes.”

“She has…” Zabir paused, because his son wasn’t that bright either. “What can I say? Lady Arya, she has blessed me a thousand times.”

“Your grandfather, thirty years ago we met on the way to the capital,” Fatima said, rubbing the top of Yasha’s head. “We were on the way to return to Black Mountain, and I believe he was going to meet with Tiger Jamal.”

‘Ah!’ Zabir thought, nodding his head.

“On the way, this was back when they were a big problem, ten black lions, larger than most lions, assaulted us. The guards nearby fell quickly, some fled, but we of Black Mountain, and one other, stood and fought. That one man? Zabir, adh Asad, we called him. He was covered in great wounds, so red with blood, one might have thought he was an Insari!”

Zabir nodded his head, remembering just how bloody he had been. His son had actually been… ten? He had gone to meet with Tiger Jamal, due to his duties, and he had just become an Expert, so he could retire properly within Arisa, but he wanted to speak with the old warrior, who was a legend in his day, and how else could he gain the opportunity, save for passing on a message from a nobleman?

“It was fortunate we escorted him to the old man, otherwise he would have been killed,” Fatima said, chuckling. “I hadn’t taken my vows for Sheath just yet, but seeing him fight so well, shukhur, I can say I became the strongest of all Sheaths because of him.”

A pair of other Sheaths held Nadia back, since they were both considered equals, and it was best to allow Fatima to show off to her old companions.

“Grandfather has always been strong and wise,” Yasha said. “I am stronger and wiser.”

“What is your name?”

“Yasha, the Flaming Spear Wyrm.”

“Oh?” Fatima raised a brow. She smiled, rubbing the girl’s head. “You wear your name with such pride. Good.”

“One day, they will call me the Flaming Spear Dragon.”

“If you were a half dragon, perhaps?”

“I will settle for Flaming Spear Drake,” Yasha joked.

Fatima smiled, turning her attention to those readying themselves for battle. “So it is your companion who has come to face our First Blade?”

“Yes,” Yasha replied, with a sigh that revealed enough about the half elf.

“Is he trouble?”

“I have never met anyone who was surrounded by so many Iyrmen, yet was so troublesome,” Yasha admitted.

The woman’s eyes fell across all the Iyrmen, noting their tattoos, each so familiar to her, especially those of the red skinned Iyrmen. “Is it true that Flame Brand is his grandmother?”

“Yes,” Yasha replied, raising her brow.

“What misfortune for the young man,” Fatima said.

“Why is there misfortune?”

“The First Blade has wished to face Flame Brand for decades,” Fatima admitted.

Yasha raised her brows, her eyes darting between her grandfather and then the Sheath, who remained completely focused on the half elf. “Why?”

“It was Flame Brand who killed his elder brother.”

Battle Order

D20 + 1 = 15 (14)

Adam also inheriting trouble from his grandparents.