Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

It was a beautiful place.

The verdant grass. The sturdy sandstone. The fluttering banners.

It was the smell which was most beautiful of all, the fiery scent tickling their lungs, their stomachs already gurgling.

The wooden gazebos were filled with those who wore soft silks earned by rough hands, and as their soft hands lifted the soft cups, their eyes turned rough upon the newcomers.

“Kal,” called a warrior, who half floated towards the silver scaled half dragon. The warrior wore loose shalwar, cream, with a grey scarf wrapped around her head, only revealing her dark eyes, which remained firmly fixated on the half dragon. A curved sabre at her side remained dangling threateningly. “Are you accompanying these guests?”

“So I am,” Tawid replied.

“…”

“…”

As the pair stared at one another, and as Kal Tawid didn’t take the hint, the woman bowed her head and requested him to wait a moment, slipping away swiftly.

“It’s a nice place,” Adam said, deciding not to say anything more, his eyes trailing across the wooden buildings, noting the way everyone looked at them, especially towards his twins. He stepped in front of his twins, reaching out to pinch their cheeks. “Jirot, I’ll see if they make any potato dishes for you. Jababy, just try and couple of bites of the desserts at least, okay?”

“Okay,” little Jarot replied, his cheek melting against his father’s palm, feeling the coarseness of his father’s palm.

“When in Aswadasad, it should be goat,” Jirot stated proudly.

“What about Aswadian potatoes?”

“I can accept Aswadian potatoes,” the little Jirot replied, as though it pained her to do so, but her lips formed a satisfied smile, and she gave in to her father’s gentle hand, not quite feeling the intense aura emanating from him.

“Kal Tawid, I see you have brought many special guests,” called a voice, of a man in his early thirties or so, his bronze face wearing a silver smile, his dark eyes curious, his hair cut short, so his hat suggested, and though his beard was thin, his moustache was thick. He, too, wore a cream shalwar, with a long scarf of maroon, white suns scattering across the scarf, a shortsabre at his side as he half skipped towards them, his hands behind his back.

“I have brought my friend and his family,” Tawid replied.

The young Aswadian’s eyes darted around them all, before noting the half elf, the symbol upon his chest, and the grave aura he possessed. “Noor’s Rays, Ray, Mo.”

“Mother’s Mercy,” Vonda replied.

“Son’s…” Adam glanced aside to his wife, his brows furrowed slightly as he thought of the prayer.

“Succour.”

“Succour?” Adam replied, trying to recall what the word meant.

“It means help or assistance during a difficult time,” Jirot whispered.

“Thank you, Jibaby,” Adam whispered, placing a hand on the top of her head, brushing her forehead gingerly with his thumb, the half elf smiling innocently.

The young Aswadian turned to look to Tawid with wide eyes, for certainly the half elf was just pretending to be a Mo of Death if he didn’t know that much, but Tawid shook his head, letting out a soft sigh.

“This is Mo Adam, his wife, Ray Vonda of Life’s Rose, his children, his family, and they are guests of the Amira,” Tawid informed, though the threat danced on his tongue evidently.

“What grand guests you have brought!” The young man almost exclaimed, brushing along his jaw, feeling his beard against his fingers, scratching his jaw gently. “I am Omran, of this humble kafabayt, and I welcome you to the House of Three Songs.”

The Aswadian quickly led them away from the rest of the guests, towards a private longhouse, in which they could enjoy their meals without the gazes of others, and so they would be out of sight of the other guests, Omran understanding his ears would soon throb from all the complaints.

However, he couldn’t exactly ignore Kal Tawid.

“Kal…”

“We are with friendly company now, so you may just call me ahm,” Tawid said, and with a gentle pat on Omran’s shoulder, he leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“What?” Omran gasped, his eyes darting to the half elf, who was currently seating the bavwa, though one seemed to be threatening him. “He is?”

“You shall never forget this favour to you, nephew.”

Omran side eyed the half elf, for certainly he seemed far too young to be someone who could defeat the likes of Tawid, but at the same time he was a half fae, so perhaps he was older than he seemed?

“He is twenty five.”

“What?” Omran whispered in utter surprise, reaching up to fix his hat, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. “Ahm, please.”

“I will ask him of his tale and you may listen,” Tawid said.

Omran took it seriously, calling for several workers to bring the food in half an hour, though he prepared a small army of tea and biscuits for the group, and as the half elf spoke his tale, in the way that he did, which was confusing to follow along, and though he did not speak some words, the words he did not speak, especially when speaking of who he fought, and how he didn’t lose.

“I beat the days out of the Radiant Blade though,” Adam said, holding up his fist. “She dares to look at my children with such eyes, so I made her lower her gaze.”

Omran turned to look towards Tawid, who stared at the half elf, for he hadn’t heard he had defeated the Radiant Blade.

“Then, once she was healed, I beat her again,” Adam added, holding up a clenched fist, peeking towards his twins, who clapped their hands excitedly, and the half elf flushed, his lips twitching slightly.

Omran turned to look towards Tawid, who stared at the half elf, for he hadn’t heard he had defeated the Radiant Blade twice.

“When you say you waited until she was healed, do you mean the next morning?” Tawid asked tentatively.

“No, no, a few healed her with their magic, and then I gave her a second chance to harm me, but then I got annoyed so I beat her up again without letting her do much to me,” Adam replied, sipping his tea casually, as though he wasn’t speaking like he was a villain.

“Did she offend you so greatly?” Omran asked, and upon seeing Tawid’s look, he realised he was a fool.

“She looked at my children with such a look, and then she dared to look at my granduncle like that too, so I had to teach her a lesson,” Adam said, slurping his tea once more to accentuate his point.

“I see, I suppose if someone were to glower at my children, or my elders, I would take great offence too…” Omran’s eyes trailed to Tawid once more, who nodded. ‘Am I meant to believe he truly defeated the Radiant Blade twice? He also defeated so many Fariqi? That’s…’

“Don’t think too deeply about it, otherwise you’ll lose your mind,” Adam joked, pouring the Aswadian man a cup of tea. “You’ll hear about me soon enough when I step out to deal with the Reavers next year.”

“You said you defeated the Fariq Thanwi of the Amber Blades?”

“Once or twice.”

“I did hear some rumours the previous year, I did not know that great hero was you, Mo Adam.”

“If I’m going around beating up all your greatest warriors aren’t I a great villain instead?”

“It is awkward to call you a great villain, for you are a Mo of Death, and even so, can I call one who fights for the sake of his family a great villain?”

“As long as you don’t forget the prefix of great, I don’t really mind too much.” Adam winked, causing Omran to chuckle, and he poured the half elf more tea, before offering the same to his children.

“Oh, do you not wish to drink tea?” Omran asked towards the little green skinned boy. “Should I pour you kafa instead?”

“My son finds it difficult to drink and eat,” Adam said, holding up the cup towards his lips, but he didn’t sip, and as his entire body tensed, he placed down his cup of tea, the half elf smiling such a wicked smile, Omran quickly pulled back.

“A great shame, Mo. I will pray for you, little Ja, who is named after his great grandfather who is so strong, the strongest,” Omran said, smiling warmly towards the boy with the understanding he would be a fool to treat the children as bavwa, especially when there were so many Iyrmen about. “You say you will go and deal with the Reavers next year, Mo?”

“I intend to.”

“Noorshukhur, if you are to step forward, I am certain the Reavers shall only know death.”

Adam smiled, but as he noted the look on Karot’s face, he paused. “What’s wrong, Karot?”

“No killing, daddy.”

“Oh?”

“Mother Soza would not like it.”

“Ah, I cannot kill because Mother Soza would not like it. Then I will defeat them and tell them to go away.”

Karot smiled innocently, his tail swaying behind him, and the half elf poured the boy a cup of tea as the food was brought in for them.

Omran turned to look towards Tawid. Tawid decided to ignore the look. However, Omran understood the half elf was that powerful, because he didn’t make any sense whatsoever, and he spoke as though he was someone beyond sanity.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Our sweet Karot is such a lovely boy.