Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The clash lasted only a moment, for and whereas Dogek finally wielded his family’s techniques with great skill, the woman’s own blade flashed with magical might, the kind of might that came from the oppression of being the Shen’s elite force. Once the ringing of steel faded away into the soft air, the two sheathed their blades.

“You have grown more powerful, and though I did not face him at his greatest, you have surpassed your grandfather’s swordplay,” the Mother of Lions complimented.

“I have yet to reach the height he had reached,” Dogek replied, confirming the woman’s thoughts that the old man had managed to reach the Peak, though that much was obvious to most. Dogek had also felt it with their simple clash, the woman was soon to reach the Peak, breaking the curse of the previous greatests of Black Lions, who had kissed Paragon only once, and the rest remained between Grandmaster and slightly greater.

“Wow…” Jirot whispered, holding onto her mother’s collar. “Mummy, I am going to be so strong too.”

“Will you learn the sword?”

“No, I am going to be that good with magic,” the tiny girl replied, as though one could do so, though if it was her, perhaps she may be able to. The girl brushed innocently along her mother’s collar and then her scarf, fixing it for her mother.

“It will be difficult.”

The tiny girl sighed. “Then will I be able to do so? I must watch over my troublesome daddy, and my troublesome siblings.”

“Who is the most troublesome sibling?”

“Of coas, it is Jarot, mummy!” Jirot declared, as though it were obvious.

“It is?” Vonda side eyed her daughter, while little Jarot turned his head, his brows furrowed, as though to say he hadn’t done anything.

“Since my brother is the cutest, he is the most troublesome!”

“So, who is more troublesome, your father or I?”

“Since you are so pretty, you are so troublesome, but daddy, he is troublesome because he is handsome, and…” Jirot let out a defeated sigh, reaching up to wipe from her forehead to her chin. “Let us not speak of this nonsense, mummy, we must enjoy the food.”

Vonda smiled, for her daughter was hilarious. After exchanging a pair of kisses, tiny cackles, the two returned to the food, and as they enjoyed the food, the others considered the clash of steel.

‘To think the Black Lions have finally reached such a height,’ Baztam thought, having assumed she, of all the figures within Black Lion, would be able to reach such a height. She was one of the few who was at that age, of the generation previous to their own, and yet continued to fight, for the sake of Aswadasad. One might have thought she had retired peacefully, but when was she, Ellani, the Mother of Lions, so peaceful?

“What did you think of your jadda’s swordplay?” Ellani asked.

“It was terrifying,” a particularly foolish half elf replied simply.

“As long as you know,” the woman replied, her lips forming a gentle smirk, and she settled herself opposite the half elf. “Do you intend to step out to face the Reavers?”

“I was planning to do it next year, though it depends,” Adam admitted, for there was still much to do. “I will go at least after the first season, but then noonval is so terrible to step out into the world, for the sun is too hot, so I might have to go during duskval, in which the rains falls so freely, and the sky is comfortably grey.”

“When I was a girl, the greyness I disliked, but as I grow older, I no longer see black and white, and everything is so grey,” the monstrous Mustashalur admitted, sipping her milk.

A gentle smile formed on the half elf’s lips, the kind that was tinged with sadness. “Everything has always been grey, and in that greyness, I feel comfortable, and feeling the rain on my skin, I think back to a simpler time.”

“Why do you sound as though you are so old?”

“For some, it is the wrinkles on one’s skin, for others, it’s the wrinkles in one’s heart.”

“Is your heart wrinkled?”

“My heart is wrinkled and scarred,” Adam joked. His eyes raised towards the open sky, the sun falling down towards the west, and his heart ached as he reminisced of times before, of eating foods he could no longer eat, of sitting with those he could no longer meet.

A rough hand grabbed at his shoulder, squeezing it roughly, and the rough woman narrowed her eyes towards him. “You are too young to speak of such wisdom, and to hold such wrinkles and scars in your heart. Perhaps you require ten more children?”

Adam spluttered, for though the hand was rough, it was not rough enough to stop him from drinking the tea, but her words were enough to cause him to choke and splutter, barely able to respond. “Oh yeah, that hits the spot. Yeah, I mean, yeah, yeah, maybe, who knows?”

As the half elf continued to splutter, the rough woman smiled, glancing towards the Ray, smiling the kind of innocent smile of a child who got caught with their hand in the biscuit tin.

“Well, I mean, it is not a terrible idea,” the little amber eyed girl said, taking another bite of her dessert, offering the last bite to her brother, who flushed, and recalling what she had said about him, nibbled on the dessert lightly, to much praise.

Thankfully, the Black Lions did not dare to cause trouble, outside of Ellani, though that much was expected.

“Do you intend to speak with the Amira for business?”

“Yes, though we also completed some business for her too, and we have a few offers for her, depending on how deep her coffers go.”

“The Amira, herself, is wealthier than most across the land,” Ellani said, deciding against threatening the half elf, since his smirk was asking her to fall for it. However, seeing him suddenly play the fool, she regretted joking with him, and then, with a gentle hand, she rubbed his shoulder. “Do not cause too much trouble for the royal family, for it would be awkward if I needed to deal with my grandson.”

“Does that mean I can cause a little trouble?”

“Well, of course you shou-,” the rough woman said, hearing a gentle whisper from the children which stopped her, furrowing her brows lightly. “You should cause a little trouble, and your daughter should cause a little trouble, and should the royal family complain, the Iyr will enjoy putting them in their place.”

The treasonous words caused Adam to open his mouth slightly, and the rough old woman grinned like a beast, reaching down to pinch the half elf’s cheek.

“I’m not sure I’ll cause that much trouble…” Adam replied, rubbing his cheek gently.

“If you are going to step out to deal with the Reavers next year, perhaps I will step out too,” Ellani said, holding her chin. “Perhaps it would be good to exercise in my later years.”

“Not a day over twenty five,” Adam joked, causing Ellani to grin even wider, and she ruffled his hair once more, for how could she not spoil this foolish brat of a grandson of hers?

“Kal Agadun,” Malfev called. “May I sit with you?”

“Please,” the Fariq replied, offering the seat beside him, he, the Fariq of Black Lion, who sat to one side within the shadows, forgotten.

“My brother speaks of you often, and he says he regrets being unable to face you before he retired within the Iyr.”

“Your brother?”

“My wife’s brother, whose name is Bakruv, though you know him as Iron Bull Sword.”

“Ah! Akh Bak, yes! Shukhur, is he well?”

“He is, though he is in his meditations, and will awaken some time next year to step out against the Reavers,” Malfev said, smiling warmly.

“I had no idea you were akh’s brother, for the akh of my akh is my akh!” Fariq Agadun assured, reaching out to clasp a forearm.

“Many years ago, your greatfather and my greatmother once crossed paths,” Malfev said, squeezing his forearm gently.

“Oh? Your great grandmother once crossed paths with the Great Lion?”

“No, the one who sailed the seas.”

“Ah? They came to blows?” Agadun replied, furrowing his brows in confusion, since though most of his great grandparents had died before he had been born, he had still heard of their tales. His great grandfather who had sailed the seas had been a rather typical fellow.

“It was not through any ill intent, but your great grandfather, Goat Mouth, was the kind of man who spoke great tales, and at once point he spoke of one of my ancestors, and this my great grandmother fought him. He was defeated, simply, but your blood is a blood full of courage, for though your great grandfather spoke loudly, he did not shirk away from steel.”

Agadun had heard his great grandfather was a bit of a loud mouth, but he had no idea he also came to fists with others, nor that he held the courage to even speak ill of Iyrmen, and to fight them even after doing so.

“It is said that his cousin, from his mother’s side, was the great grandfather of Kal Shafir.”

Agadun raised his brows. “Brass Spear?”

“No, the other great grandfather, the guard.”

Agadun raised his brows in surprise, for he had no idea he was related to Kal Shafir, though he supposed it made sense, for the two were great warriors in the martial world, in which many were related.

“I hope my grandnephew has not offended you,” Malfev finally said, reaching up to tickle his beard lightly with a finger.

“Your grandnephew?”

“Adam,” Malfev said, smiling innocently, the kind of innocent smile of a child who got caught with their hand in the biscuit tin.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Everyone’s related.