Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Adam handed out the chest of silver to the Chief, a woman by he name of Poppy, whose eyes quickly darted up towards the half elf’s tattoo. 

‘He’s not an Iyrman, is he?’

Timojin bowed his towards the Iyrman Grandmaster, who wore a tag of mithril as a necklace, revealing his general level of power, as well as his rank at the Adventurer’s Guild. Timojin reached up towards his own tag, steel, denoting him as two ranks below, and his general estimation of power as above an Expert, and potentially a Master. His eyes then drifted towards Adam, Jurot, and Kitool, each of whom also wore steel, though they were barely stamped, and yet they held the power of those almost ready to move up to Silver officially.

Except, they were already able to clash against those who wore mithril tags?

‘I must train harder,’ Timojin thought. 

Brittany remained near Kitool, her hand clenching the piece of gold tight. Her eyes darted to a familiar face, and she hid the frown that almost crept upon her face, though the displeasure in her eyes was evident enough. 

“Brittany…”

Her heart pounded hard within her chest as she narrowed her eyes towards him. “What do you want?”

“Why are you giving me that kind of look? Wasn’t I the one who-,”

“What do you want?” Brittany stated.

He could hear it. The slight tremble within her voice. Like a viper, he struck, stepping forward as he wore the mask of an apology. 

Unfortunately for him, a shadow formed over him, and the man twitched, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Okay?” Nobby asked. 

“I’m fine,” Brittany replied. “We should go find a place to stay.”

“Okay.”

“A place to stay? Are we strangers?” the man replied, letting out a soft laugh, breathy and full of nerves. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to take care of me any more,” Brittany stated, marching away, leading Nobby away.

“You’re still one of us,” the man called out, and seeing the way Brittany flinched at the words, he smiled. ‘Do you think cause you’re dressed all fancy, wearing all those fine weapons, that you aren’t born from soil?’

“You’re not,” Nobby said as they stepped away.

Brittany glanced aside towards the massive mountain that was Nobby. He was someone whose uncles were Experts, and he had been personally plucked by Jurot to train in his way. Brittany? She had to beg, and beg, and beg, and even after shooting thousands of arrows, Adam had almost refused. 

He’d never understand.

Adam sat opposite Jurot, the pair within the home of a villager they had paid off with a small bag of silver, enough to pay for a modest inn’s stay, and more than enough for the villagers. ‘It feels baller to hand over a single gem, but it also feels really cool to hand over a box of silver.’

Jurot was fairly certain Adam was thinking of something stupid, but quickly the half elf’s face turned to more serious matters.

‘If we keep spending this much coin…’ Adam was keeping track of how much coin they were spending daily, around forty gold each day they had travelled thus far. ‘Forty times, what, three hundred? Twelve thousand gold for travel for the rest of the year? That doesn’t include all the gifts or anything. Plus, we’re handing over thousands of gold of magical items too…’

The half elf’s heart swirled with emotions, though he was quickly distracted a Jurot poured them each a small cup of grain wine. 

“Jurot…” Adam began, letting out a small sigh. “Have I become… rich?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking about it and… it feels really good to be rich.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why if I start acting all rich, all… noble towards people that don’t deserve it, please…”

“I know,” Jurot stated, bowing his head, and the pair shared a drink.

The sky had begun to darken, the fire illuminated the centre of the village, and the music bounced off the walls. Many villagers gathered at the centre, more than usual for obvious reasons, hearing the tales of the Iyrmen who had appeared, and often passed through their village. It was because every time they left, they would tell a tale the villagers had almost forgotten, or perhaps a tale they had yet had the chance to speak upon their return last time. 

“So then he drew his trident against me so I had to teach him a lesson, you know?” Adam complained. “So what if you’re some kind of Prince! I was so worried for my wife and my unborn child! Shouldn’t you leave a worried father be? Don’t you have a conscious? If you’re going to pretend to be all noble and regal, then act like it!”

The villagers cheered, for if it was any other situation, they may have held fear within their hearts, around Iyrmen, such words could be spoken openly. Even if the half elf was not a true Iyrman, the tattoos upon his forehead lulled them into a sense of security, for without a doubt they were placed upon his forehead by the Iyr. 

“So what did I do?” Adam paused for a moment, burying the shame within his heart. “I… beat him up a little bit and let him go for the sake of my friend. Even though he was a Prince too, at least he was one of the good ones. He even spoiled my children properly! So that’s why I let that merman guy go!”

The laughter within the village filled the air, though there were those who weren’t drinking and they understood just how crazy it was for Adam to speak like that. 

‘Was he… always that strong?’ Chief Poppy thought, her eyes darting aside towards the other Iyrmen near him. She had recalled the scene last time they had left and returned, and the heavy air around them. Unlike the other villagers, she did not have the liberty to forget just how terrifying it all was. Even if half of what Adam had said was true… then there was the matter of what happened in the previous year, and…

The Chief poured the half elf the grainwine, filling his cup halfway, as was per the custom. It was how it was, a small cup, and an even smaller pour, so that the wine could last forever. Though she had spent only a few seconds pouring the cup, it felt an eternity to her, the sounds of the liquid trickling down, while her mind raced with thought. As she poured the wine, so did the words pour out of her lips.

“The Grand Commander of the Thousand Hunts,” the woman began, but she stopped, upon seeing the darkness within the half elf’s eyes, and though it had only lasted a moment, it had felt an eternity to her. 

“The Grand Commander of High Garden,” Adam said, forcing away the alcohol, his eyes forming a gentle glare. “You should… if anyone comes asking about that, tell them to speak with the Chief of the Iyr.”

‘What happened?’ The thought plagued Poppy, through the night, and even as she watched the carriage slip away in the morning. She thought back to Adam’s glare. She had no idea Adam could invoke such a darkness, for he was always such a fool.

As the sun crested above, falling towards the Iyr, the Commander sighed. The flags were strange, and he was certain he hadn’t seen such a design previously, but if there was an Iyrman riding up front, and it was those particular Iyrmen, then it meant that this group could only be that group. He only prayed it didn’t hold those old monsters, and if he was especially fortune, it didn’t hold that young man.

“Why do you sigh so heavily?” the Vice Commander asked, their breastplate emblazoned with the stylized portrait of a wolf. 

Commander Theodore’s eyes darted to the side, having half forgotten about them within his worries. “It is noonval, but the winds I feel are too cold.”

“If the Northerners heard your words, they would try to bury you within the snow and speak to you of how many words they have for cold. This word means the kind of cold on a sunny day. This word means the kind of cold you feel when it’s snowing lightly. This word means the kind of cold you feel when it’s snowing heavily.” The Vice Commander shook his head, flashing a frightfully charming smile, which caused the Commander to raise his guard. “Though, it looks like the winds bring trouble.”

‘If you did bring him, at least bring an old monster!’ Commander Theodore thought, but as they stepped out, and he noted the old man they had brought wore no tattoos, his heart sunk, and the older man cursed his terrible luck. ‘As long as he does not bring the coin himself, it should…’

Adam eyed up the figures on the fort, and upon the unfamiliar face on the wall who grinned at him so frightfully charming. The half elf’s lips formed a gentle smirk in return. ‘You think you’re the only handsome one around, eh?’

Adam is the reason why so many people will die young of stress.