Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[1160] – Y06.060 – Dawnval Festival III



The harsh rays of noon fell upon the Iyrmen within their fields, the children wearing their wide brimmed hats, some grabbing at their hats to pull them off, like one particularly noisy child did.

“Eyah!” Virot complained, groaning and whimpering while she fought her mother, taking off her hat, only for her mother to put it back upon her head. 

“Virot, you must wear your hat,” Vonda said, holding the top of Virot’s hat on her head as the girl grabbed at the brim and tried to pull it off. “Look, Xarot is wearing his hat well.”

“Xa!” Virot called out, looking towards her brother, who sat quietly while staring at the brim of his own hat from the corner of his vision, mesmerised by the way the light darkened suddenly, for seemingly no reason at all at the edge of this curious object. Virot glared back towards her mother, babbling away with her complaints. 

“Mama,” Damrot called, lifting his head further back, his eyes falling downwards to see his mother’s face properly. The boy smiled wide, blinking as the hat fell further upon his brow, and cooed for his mother. The woman pulled it over his hair line, jiggling it lightly so it stuck upon his head. 

“Is that better?”

“Beh!”

“Can you see your father?”

“Dada?” the boy asked, before throwing his head over his shoulder to try and spot his father. He followed where his mother was pointing and even from this distance, the boy could see the form of the Iyrman. He was tall and strong, strong enough to carry a tree. It was a smaller tree, but the Iyrman carried his tree with little effort, for he was his son’s father, and his father’s son.

The Iyrman was shirtless, sweat trickling down the crevices formed between his powerful muscles. As he trekked his way through the field, his body glistening under the sun, he made sure to show off his powerful back towards his family. 

“How did you forge it?” Chosen asked, eyeing up Jurot’s forearm. He flexed his own, showing the exactly line he was speaking of, and while there was a faint line which ran up towards his elbow, Jurot’s line was far darker, the shadow far more prominent due to the walls of muscles on either side. 

“He wields his axe in one hand, while you wield a blade in both hands,” Tanagek replied simply.

“What is your excuse?” Chosen asked. 

“I must grow muscle all over to remain swift within my armour, while you do not have to carry all this weight, and you wield a blade with both hands.”

Tanagek’s words dug deep within Chosen’s heart, far closer to home than he originally expected. The Iyrman cleared his throat, returning back to lifting a tree. He spotted his sister, and exhaled, ready to carry the tree as though it was the only thing he was made to do.

“What of my neck and shoulders?” Jurot asked, flexing his back and neck towards the pair.

“You take after Mad Dog,” Tanagek assured.

“Your neck and shoulders may be even greater,” Chosen added, huffing as he hoisted the tree over his shoulder.

Jurot let out a small groan of approval, the shadow of a smile encroaching upon his lips as he felt the phantom touches of his wife’s hands against his neck, upper back, and shoulders. ‘I should build them greater.’

Tanagek and Chosen wondered why the Iyrman was smiling so proudly, though how could they, with their chest bare and glistening, understand as unmarried men the deepest of joys when it came to glistening in this manner?

The Silver Fate Squad also showed off to their younger siblings, while Taygak spent most of her time with Kavgak and Maygak. 

‘Where is cousin Jaygak?’ the teen thought, her eyes darting around. ‘She is working too hard.’

“Babo! Look!” Jirot pulled back from the hole she and her brother had dug, pointing towards it as though it were hard to miss.

“You have dug such a great hole!” Jarot exclaimed, showing off the hole to the nearby Iyrmen, various distant relatives of the Rot family. While showing off the hole his greatchildren had made, the old man reached down towards the belt that kept his metal prosthetic attacked to him, fiddling with it lightly. Due to him constantly shifting around upon a knee, the leg dug into his skin, and the leather around his thigh and knee slipped. 

“Do you wish to plant the seed?” Mulrot asked.

“We can do it?” Jirot asked, raising her brows mischievously, causing her greatmother to raise her brows in return. The girl’s mischievous smile faltered, transforming into a gentle flush, and before she could defend herself, her greatmother wiped some dirt off her cheek. “Jarot, we can do it, yes?”

“We can do it,” little Jarot agreed.

“Yes,” the one armed Jarot confirmed.

Jirot blinked towards her greatfather and began to cackle with laughter, the old man joining in, tickling their noses. They each planted in a large sapling into the earth, joining the other Iyrmen in planting more.

Kitool assisted by keeping an eye along the perimeter of the field, just in case any of the children tried to make a break for it. The woman’s eyes fell down towards the hornless red skinned child who sat nearby. The boy stared out at the rest of the Iyr, taking in the sight of people working hard, and the Iyrmen watching over their children. It was a mixture of a picnic and a tree planting ceremony.

‘I see,’ Larot thought, the boy sitting with his arms crossed. ‘Your lives are so short, and yet…’

‘What is he thinking of so deeply?’ Kitool wondered. She recalled the trouble his presence had caused the Iyr, not that many would have thought of such considering how easily the Iyr accepted the boy. 

‘Since it will effect me…’ The boy stood, crossing his arms behind his back, approaching the sight of one of the plantings which had been sectioned away. The boy reached for a small shovel and began to work. An Iyrman approached him, but stopped.

“Larot is well behaved,” the grey skinned woman said.

“Who are you?”

“I am his… aunt.” Lucy could feel the awkwardness rise within her. After all, she was a Demon Lord, and this young boy was mostly likely a reincarnated figure with such a title. However, since he was the younger sibling of those who called her an aunt, didn’t that make her his aunt too?

The Iyrman remained silent, though stood nearby, until Kitool approached, signalling with her hands, dismissing the Iyrman. 

“I will watch over him,” Mara said, crossing her hands over her navel. 

“I should work too.”

“Today, you should eat dessert,” Mara said.

Lucy inhaled sharply. Her eyes fell to Mara, who stood firm and proud. “Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Later towards the evening the children returned back to the estates, each bathing within the tubs to wash them. It was during this time when the adults missed Adam, for his ability to warm and cool water near instantly was even greater than the magical gems which required more time.

“What!” Adam complained once he had returned. “You guys planted trees? Jurot, did you take your shirt off?”

“Yes,” the Iyrman replied. 

“Damn it!” Adam grit his teeth, exaggerating his displeasure. “You’re telling me that Lucy not only got to play with my kids, but she got to oggle such handsome hunks? Are you telling me I could have taken my shirt off for my wife to oggle me?”

“Even if you’re right, stop being so cringe!” Lucy replied angrily, though the smirk on her face spurred the flames within Adam’s heart.

“Daddy, stop being so cringe!” Jirot called out to the half elf, noting the look upon her mother’s face, the kind that was her thinking twice about her marriage to the half elf.

“This time, you have to forgive me, because it hurts so much,” Adam replied, reaching up to his heart. 

“Daddy!” Jirot called out, but seeing the pain on her father’s face, the girl frowned. It was feigned, but there was a realness to it. She rushed up to her father. “Daddy, you can plant trees now. Come, I tell babo.”

“No, it’s fine…” Adam lifted the girl up, nuzzling her nose gently, the pair embracing tight before Adam hoisted little Jarot up too. “Did you two plant a lot?”

“I planted five!” Jirot called out proudly. 

“I plant five too…” 

“My children planted the best five I’m sure!” Adam peppered them all with kisses once more.

“Does it hurt?” Pam asked, reaching up to brush her fingers along her husband’s shoulders and neck. 

“No,” Jurot replied, since ache and pain were two different things.

“It definitely hurts,” Adam said.

“It does not.”

“It definitely hurts,” Adam said, meeting Jurot’s gaze. The half elf raised his brows, causing Jurot to narrow his eyes, wondering what secrets the half elf knew. “It aches and you would like some help in applying lotion, am I right?”

Jurot let out a long exhale, acknowledging Adam’s genius. “Yes.”

“Did you plant trees too, dear?” Adam asked.

“No,” Vonda replied. 

“You carried the children, didn’t you?” Adam replied.

“I do not need assistance with lotion.”

“Damn it! This is the worst day ever!” the half elf complained, though his eyes remained fixated upon his wife’s. The pair continued to stare at one another long and hard, until Vonda finally gave in, since the half elf would only grow more cringe if she refused him. 

“Daddy! I will use magic and pick up the trees!” Jirot said. “Jarot grow up strong and he will carry trees too.”

“I’m sure,” Adam said. “One day, Jarot, you will get a wife and you’ll understand the pain in my heart.”

“Does it hurt, daddy?” Jarot asked.

“It hurts a little but maybe if my children give me a kiss on my cheek, I’ll be healed?” Adam replied, peeking down at his children. 

Jirot rolled her eyes, but she still kissed her father’s cheek, giving permission for the rest of the children to do the same.



Fellas is it gay to think about your wife if you're showing off your muscles to the boys? 

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