Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The child was small, but she was not the only child, and thus her and her younger siblings kept the fellow pinned beneath them. There were many titles the man possessed, some grand, some grander, and some small, but since it was he who was called such titles, he was a man of such grandeur, and the grandest title of all was that particular title.

“Daddy,” Konarot called, her tail swaying lightly behind her, the girl rubbing her eyes as she peeked down towards her father, who seemingly was awake, and did not hold the tiredness within his eyes.

“Good morning, Konababy.”

“Did you sleep good, daddy?”

“I slept good, my dear. How about you?”

“I slept so good, daddy, so good,” the girl assured, resting her head back upon his chest, as her siblings also awoke, greeting their father.

“Since you’re all awake, we should go bathe,” Adam said, slowly slithering away from them, yet though he tried, the children claimed his arms and neck, and so he was forced to wear them towards the baths, where they found the songs of play, of their younger siblings playing with their mother, and upon seeing the four, the twins paddled their way to greet their father and eldest siblings.

The bath was warm, while the tub aside was much cooler, for the sake of the triplets, and as their mother assisted them, the twins swarmed their father.

“Daddy, I have to poop,” little Jarot said.

“Me too!” Jirot declared.

Adam carefully picked the pair up and took them aside to the toilets, glad the pair had warned him, and as the children sat beside one another they chattered and bullied their father, who considered teaching them to keep to themselves as they pooped, but he supposed…

‘Ah, they’re five so I probably should…’ Adam thought, but his heart ached, and so once they were done with their task, Adam used his magic to clean the cauldrons, and rinsed them off to make sure they did not bring anything into the baths once more.

“Daddy, you-,” Jirot began, but as her father’s hand swayed in the air, water splashed all across the girl.

“Turn around, you brats, so I can wash your pooey bums!” Adam declared raising his hand once more, shifting more water around with his Trick.

The girl giggled, and as she turned to leave, her bottom was struck with a mass of water, while Adam half scooped the troublesome girl with a hand.

“No running when it’s wet!” Adam half exclaimed, scooping up the girl. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Sorry, daddy, sorry!” Jirot squealed, still smiling, completely relaxed within her father’s arm, and seeing that she was behaving, the half elf washed her bottom properly, doing the same for her brother, and once the half elf cleaned them, he continued to wield his magic to clean the area.

It wasn’t long before their mother, deciding not to become a raisin, began to dry them off and once they were all dressed, the children rushed out to find many of their elders all awaiting for them.

“Good morning,” Jirot called, greeting each of the Iyrmen one by one, and for some of them she allowed them to ruffle her hair, for others she pat their knee, for others she shook their forearms, and for some she bumped fists, before finally approaching her greatfather and greatmothers. “Babo! I helped mummy wash her hair today.”

“Oh? You did so well!” Jarot ruffled the girl’s hair gently.

“Mm! I am so good at washing hair, so if you need help you can ask me, okay babo?”

“I will ask you,” Jarot promised.

“What of I?” Gangak asked.

“Nano, your hair is so beautiful, you do not need help.”

Gangak smiled, while Jarot blinked, glancing towards the boy who was named after him, and at the boy’s innocent smile, the old man returned a smile.

“Jirot…” Konarot whispered, considering speaking to her about her words, but at the same time, her sister was so well behaved, so she showed mercy.

Kirot glanced aside to her elder sister whose heart was too soft to tell off the little girl, but as she stepped towards the girl, she was stopped by an impenetrable wall.

“It is time to eat,” Sonarot said, for the Aswadian servants were swift at cooking, and Lokat had finished her prayers purifying the food and drinks.

Kirot blinked.

“Adam, shall we go and explore the markets together today?” Korin asked, pouring the half elf a cup of tea.

“Sure, we can do that,” Adam replied, noting the look within Korin’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what Korin was trying to get at, but he accepted his friend’s proposal, for there was no need to refuse.

“Jurot, would you care to join us, in case the name of Black Mountain will be unable to reign in any trouble Adam covets?”

“Okay,” Jurot replied, without even a second thought.

Adam’s face remained blank.

“Ahm, are you stealing my daddy away?” Jirot accused, sipping her milk, her eyes taking Korin within her sights.

“It is not that I am stealing your father away, but that your aila wishes to steal you away from your father,” Korin admitted, reaching down to offer the girl a piece of sliced fruit from his fingers.

“Oh, okay,” the tiny girl replied, taking a bite of the fruit, her eyes falling towards her beautiful purple skinned aila.

Since Sara had wished to claim his children this day, the half elf had to step back, for it was time for the children to explore Aswadasad truly, and not be suffocated under their foolish father’s shadow.

Once they were finished with their breakfast, they relaxed for another hour, before finally making their way through the capital.

“Da’b is a large place, and due to its size, as one might expect, there are quite a few areas which are difficult to step through safely,” Korin began.

“Da’b?”

“Dahab.”

“Oh, I see. I swear there’s also another way someone’s referred to it.”

“There are hundreds of way to describe Jabal Adh Dahab, for it is the capital, and thus those within its walls, and those outside of its walls, they all have their opinions, each who love it, each who hate it, and few who hold indifference.”

“I suppose that’s what you get for being the capital of a large country like Aswadasad, so wide it is, so long, and so dangerous.”

“Thankfully, it is quite easy to spot which areas are dangerous, for various black cloths are placed out overtly, and each patterned in such a way to reveal their-,” Korin had begun to explain, but the crashing of a large man through a crate from an alley which wore a cloth of black, patterned in a specific manner that locals probably understood.

Emerging from the shadows, like a tiger from the shadows, a large fellow, easily a head taller than any around, their skin blue, their horns curling back, and they were build as though they ate wrestlers for breakfast. It was he, adorned in torn clothing, cuts and bruises, and in one hand he wielded a studded club, in the other he wielded a wineskin with greater proficiency, for as the wine flew through the sky, it flowed down his gullet as though he had just find an oasis.

“How many big blue guys are there in Aswadasad?” Adam joked.

“He is a friend of ours,” Jurot said.

“He is?” Adam’s eyes darted to the Iyrman who remained focused on the large blue man.

“Eugh…” The man on the ground grunted, and as he rolled onto his side, slowly scrambling to his knees, the man quickly found himself half way in the air by the grip of a larger man, and then as he turned to face the large blue monster, the world around him blurred as he flew through the sky once more, rolling and tumbling in the middle of the street.

“Bastara, do you know no fear?” the large blue skinned man called, reaching down to the dark blue sash around his waist, though as he unfurled it, everyone swiftly realised it was the dark blue of the guards. As he draped it over his shoulders with a hand, the other feeding him more of the wine, he approached the twitching man. “How dare you covet my women!”

“If… I had known…”

Yet, as the twitching man’s trembling voice seeped into the air, the sounds of his grunts began to echo across the street, as the large blue guard kicked him, cursing the downed fool with all manner of words, the kinds no man should say to another.

“Bastara…” The blue man’s eyes snapped around towards the crowd, and though he made to threaten them, he paused. “Oh? Iyrman?”

Jurot bowed his head, having not expected the large man to speak in the Aldish tongue, even if it was heavily accented.

“What brings you to…” The guard’s eyes slowly trailed to the side. “An Akh of Black Mountain?”

“Kal,” Korin corrected.

“Hmm…”

‘Is he ignoring me?’ Adam thought, for wasn’t his amulet prominently displayed, he, a Mo of Death?

“You are here for some fun?” the guard asked, grinning wide towards Jurot.

“You are too weak for me.”

“I? Too weak?” The guard clenched his fist, and turning a deeper blue, almost purple, he swung towards Jurot, who did not flinch, nor did he shirk away from the punch, his skin flashing red hot as the guard struck him squarely upon his jaw.

‘What the!’ Adam thought, since how was it that his brother was the one to get them into trouble.

Ah.

Right.

Of course.

He was Jurot.

Jurot was his brother.

PATREON FOR 30+ CHAPTERS!

Jurot is just that guy.