Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

”Did you enjoy meeting the Drake of the Hills?” the half elf asked, his twins home within his arms, for Gangak had remained awake to speak with Afraz long into the night and had surrendered the children to their father.

”It is the Drake of the Hill, not the Drake of the Hills, daddy,” Jirot retorted. The girl rolled onto her father’s chest, gripping his collar, and as she rested her head against her father’s chest, she stared at the back of her brother’s head, which buried itself against his father’s bicep.

”He’s only the drake of one hill?”

”Politics, daddy. Politics.”

”Ah,” Adam replied, nodding his head.

Jirot was glad he didn’t ask for more, since she wasn’t entirely sure why it was due to politics, but within her heart of hearts, she knew it was to do with politics.

A shadow formed over the trio, and they blinked up towards the cause of the shadow, and after a moment, Jirot and Jarot were within the arms of their mother, meanwhile their father was under their mother, in the most awkward way possible, not that he seemed to mind one bit. Since they were yet to sleep, the woman wanted to claim her twins for a short while, and as the three spoke into the night, all the while their father remained silent beneath their mother, elsewhere, there was another awkwardness.

”How dare you steal my greatchildren from me!”

”They are my greatchildren too,” Mulrot replied, holding onto her eldest greatdaughters, and since the two were with her, Karot, too, cuddled up beside the woman.

”You! How dare you think you can-,” the old man growled, only to stop when his eldest greatdaughter furrowed her brows towards him, stopping the old geezer from saying any more, for he would not wish to earn the girl’s vicious wrath. Indeed, for though Jirot was loud with her viciousness, Konarot’s bite was greater than even Jirot’s bark.

Thankfully, little Kirot escaped from her greatmother’s grasp with ease, for the old woman let her go, and she hugged her greatfather’s head, and she turned, meeting her sister’s eyes.

’I will leave it to you,’ Konarot’s eyes said, and the two girls gave one another a thumbs up.

In times like this, it was up to Kirot, who was like a second Konarot, but it was she, Kirot, who had to deal with it.

The next morning, the carriages slipped away from the village, and within a certain carriage, a girl babbled away noisily towards the old Aswadian man, bald, with a greatblade nearby, while Gangak held the girl within her arms.

’It seems today she is not so shy,’ Afraz thought.

That afternoon, they approached a village which was more like a fortress than it was a village, the earth walls raised as high as a man, darkened by fire which had not taken it. The land here was warmer too, and those who stood upon the walls were adorned in red scales, wielding spears which glinted under the noonval sun, their skin dark, as dark as one might have expected from Aswadians, but a touch darker, and their hair was fiery red, while one was also horned and scaled, and it was he, this old half dragon, who leapt from the wall, and almost floated to land before the carriages. He was as handsome as one might have expected, for how many half dragons did one see who were ugly? The half dragon was adorned in black, the deepest of blacks, and his longspear was forged of what appeared to be dragonglass, and the long cloak which he wore billowed in the gentle breeze, though he himself was not gentle. It was, however, his eyes, deep red, which started the half elf, for they held a look of utter contempt towards the Iyrmen, and even upon seeing the children, such contempt did not change.

’Is he asking to die?’

”Deathsingers,” he snapped, the old half dragon’s voice coarse as sand, and he flexed his muscles, which caused his scale to expand, revealing his great strength.

It was then Adam wondered if he had met any half dragon who was older.

”Daddy, it is the Ashen Lord of the Hills,” Jirot whispered from within his arms, the girl responsible for keeping her father out of trouble, and with her within his arms, could he dare to cause trouble?

’Ashen Lord of the Hill?’ Adam thought, though he hadn’t heard of the guy before, or perhaps he did, in passing.

It was Duteous who stepped forward to meet with the Ashen Lord of the Hills.

”You are his grandson?” the half dragon asked.

”I am,” Duteous Dogek replied.

The Ashen Lord then stepped past Duteous, towards the three figures, glaring down at them. ”When did the Shen’s dogs have such courage?”

”We are upon-,”

The Ashen Lord’s spear threatened to take Kal Uli’s head, the Aswadian leaping backwards, and as the other two reached for their blades, Kal Uli called out, but it was too late, for the half dragon’s spear fell upon the other two Black Lions too, who barely managed to defend themselves from his onslaught. The longspear moved swiftly, as though it were ten streams crashing together into the most terrible river, allowing the Black Lions only to defend themselves.

”Korin, he’s not going to kill the three, is he?” Adam whispered.

”He might kill one,” Korin replied, with an earnestness the half elf wasn’t expecting.

”Should we stop him?”

”It would be difficult.”

”Should I stop him?”

Korin placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes widening slightly as the Aswadian’s life flashed before his eyes. ”No! No. Anyone but you, my friend.”

Adam blinked. Adam looked down at his daughter for support, but her eyes remained judging her father, for how could he look towards him with such a look, especially when he was he, Adam, he who was he, Adam, and he, Adam, was he.

”No,” Mulrot said.

Jarot’s arms remained cross.

”You cannot.”

”...”

”If he kills one, our dear Adam may be blamed,” Butcher Marmak teased, causing the old fool to step forward.

Thankfully, the wisdom of the Aswadians prevailed, for as the long spear threatened to take an eye from the Black Lion, another longspear almost took the Black Lion’s throat, though thankfully planted right beside his neck, causing the other to almost take his ear instead.

The half dragon’s eyes slowly trailed to the side.

The young man, wrinkled so he was, was dark, lightened by scars. A lean muscular form, though with a touch of retirements across his gut, with whitened hair, shortly cut for his travels within Aswadasad, a thick beard upon his chin, his eyes dark, touched with a tiredness. Then, there was the other, who rested his greatblade over his shoulder, short, bald, his eyes also tired, the two men whose lives were so full of grief. Then, there were the two, who, by Korin’s request, and Adam’s confirmation, had stepped forward, both identical, each wielding their sabres in hand, and without a thought in their eyes save to swing their blades should it be required, for thinking of the difference between them was too smart for the too of them.

’Thank Lord Noor, thank Lady Arya, thank Mother Soza, thank Baktu,’ Yasha thought, for it was today of all days she was glad she was raised by a guard of Aswadasad, which was far too close to an Order for Korin’s liking, so the young woman stayed to one side.

”Do any others wish to step forward?” the half dragon asked.

”Hmm,” hummed a certain fool, who really wished to step forward, and upon seeing the looks from the others around him, especially from his wife, the half elf closed his eyes, and decided to reject the existence of the world, until someone brought him back, for he rather enjoyed living.

”Lion King, Drake of the Hill, and... you children, you must be that brat’s?”

The twins did not dare to think.

”They are Weal and Woe Sabres’,” Lion King confirmed.

”Are the three of you enough?”

”Yes,” Lion King stated, as Afraz cracked his neck, the two of them perhaps enough to stall him, and once he was weakened, perhaps the Twin Steel Sabres could step forward to assist without dying. It was likely they could defeat him, especially since he had fought three Masters, who may have only lightly defended themselves, but it still required some effort to deal with.

”Good,” the half dragon replied, his spear blurring through the air, clashing with the Lion King, whose skin darkened, and his own spear blurred in return, while Afraz leapt into the fray, spinning his entire body and blade, causing the half dragon to finally fly into the air, and Ashmir to retreat away from the wild swing of the sword.

”There is no need to fear my sword!” Afraz declared, as the half dragon finally landed, planting his longspear into the earth. ”Will it even cut your scales?”

”Bastara,” the half dragon replied, glaring at Afraz, who continued to grin wide, for the swing had threatened to cut the half dragon in half. Even Ashmir looked towards Afraz, for the swing had almost cut into him too.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Why is Jirot so funny?