Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

“Take a seat,” Elder Zijin said, writing his notes for the day, stacking them up beside him. He did not cover the notes, since Kitool’s eyes would not stray, and even if they did it was no issue for her to know. After completing his second note, the Elder pulled back, placing snacks and drinks onto the table. 

“…”

“…”

“Elder… when their amber eyes look at you, do you feel it too?” Kitool asked, keeping the Elder’s gaze.

“I bury it deep within my heart.”

“Is it so easy?”

“No.”

“How do you do it?”

“The past is the past. There is nothing you or I can do to fix it. We must remember what has happened and continue to step towards a greater future. A greater future for yourself, and for those children who look up to you with such pure hope.”

Kitool stared down at the table, seeing the image of the black plaque within her mind, the same plaque she had all but begged for. “It will be difficult to kill him.”

“Difficult,” Zijin agreed. “You will do it, since he has asked for you to do it.”

“He asked for me?”

“He did.”

Kitool remained silent for a long while, looking through the Elder. She chewed on her thoughts for a long while, flashes of the past few years slipping through her mind. From seeing the ridiculousness of the half elf in full force, from him facing against a dragon so early, to then killing one of the strongest across all of Aldland. It was Adam with his children, however, that was the most impressive to the woman. Not just his own children, but her own siblings, and their various cousins.

“Okay.”

Elder Zijin would need to write down Kitool’s doubts, and his recommendation. However, since she said she would, Elder Zijin placed his trust within her. He waited to see if she had more to say, but she bowed her head and made to leave.

“There is a matter which requires your presence,” Zijin said. 

“…” Kitool waited for the Elder to continue.

“You will hear of it soon.”

“Okay.”

Kitool didn’t need to wait long, for the evening before Adam’s day off, the half elf was called by the Elder.

“What’s this? Some kind of party?” Adam asked, flanked by Sonarot, Jurot and Kitool. “I’d say I’m about to die, but you haven’t brought enough people, and Jurot looks too relaxed.”

“It is equally as important,” Zijin assured, shutting his book and standing, motioning a hand for the group to follow him. “I had thought to ask Jaygak, but she replied she was too busy, and wished to return to see her nieces and nephews, and not you.”

“What is she busy with anyhow?” Adam asked, before suddenly twitching. “No, no, no, nevermind!” 

Zijin smiled at the half elf, continuing to lead him through the various tunnels of the Iyrmen which ran within the mountains, the gentle glow of the magical orbs leading their way ever onward. The temperature dropped all around them, and Adam’s shins began to burn lightly as they made their way down a gentle slope. As they turned through various intersections, each a room that seemed almost a rest stop, with beds and some lighter provisions, they finally approached a circular staircase. 

“Is anyone else feeling their hair on edge?” Adam asked, feeling something was off in the air. There was an electricity in the air, the kind that pricked the half elf’s back and neck constantly. The half elf’s eyes continued to dart all around the dim light, though his eyes saw through it as though it were day light, searching for… something.

“It is normal,” Zijin assured, leading the half elf forward, with Jurot, Kitool, and Sonarot each bringing up the rear, their footsteps echoing across the wall.

Adam glanced aside towards the various markings along the wall, each growing more and more numerous as they made their way down at least a hundred steps, before they reached an open room, one that led in all four directions. The room itself was bare, save the engravings on the wall, and though the pathways led outward, several doors blocked their path. 

‘Man, why is everywhere always so cold?’ Adam thought, rolling his shoulders and rubbing his hands together, shooting a look towards Jurot, who seemed completely unphased by the chill in the air. Adam let out a breath, watching the vapour rise, though his eyes darted towards the open door, having missed Zijin’s actions.

They travelled all throughout the maze that was the Iyr’s underground tunnels, Adam smelling all manner of scents in the air, from blood, to greenery, to death. That was until they approached a small room with only the single entrance, and a large copper basin which lay in the centre of the room. 

“Don’t tell me it’s full of blood,” Adam said.

Zijin raised his brows in surprise. “I will not tell you.”

“Aw, man. Did you bring me all this way to bathe in blood as some kind of ritual?”

“How did you know?”

“It was either that, an alchemic concoction, or a bunch of bones. I thought it couldn’t be as nice as a medicine bath, probably not as terrible as piles of dead, so blood it is.” Adam sighed, frowning slightly. “So what’s this about?”

“You are to be tattooed.”

“Oh!” Adam raised his brows in shock, glancing between the others around him. “Oh. This makes way more sense now. I guess Vonda couldn’t be exposed to the secrets, so we couldn’t bring her along?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. So… do I need to…” Adam motioned to his clothing.

“Yes.”

“Like… butt naked?”

“If you uncomfortable, not so far.”

“Okay, well… Aunt, Kitool, could you two… look away? It’ll feel weird if you’re looking.”

Sonarot smiled, turning around, Kitool doing the same, allowing the half elf to strip in peace. They could feel just how much Adam was doing his best not to make several jokes, for there was that kind of feeling in the air. A yelp filled the air before the wet sloshing sounds echoed within the room. 

“Why’s it so cold?” Adam asked, shuddering within the barrel of blood, the half elf clutching at his dagger over the edge, not wanting to defile the blood within. “Isn’t blood meant to be warm? Isn’t that it’s thing?”

“This blood is of ancient Iyrmen,” Zijin said. “The likes of Jarot, from the Blackwater Crisis, and even Brandon the Bold.”

“Eugh,” Adam groaned, glancing aside to his brother’s face, which twitched. The smell of the blood was far fainter than he expected, but it still smelled, a lighter smell of burnt metal. “I don’t mean any disrespect, it’s just… you know. This isn’t really common back where I’m from. We don’t mind dropping bombs on a few thousand kids, but bathing in blood? That’s barbaric.”

“I am glad you are able to joke for now, since it will be painful,” Zijin said, reaching into his robes, retrieving a brush and a disc of steel.

“Painful?”

“The typical process was refined through generations, but this… is new.” Zijin held out the disc. “Sonarot, your blood is required.”

“I will do it,” Jurot said, stepping forward, assuming they needed an Iyrman’s blood, and even though it was an honour, he did not wish to see his mother bleed before him. 

Zijin bowed his head, allowing the Iyrman to step forward. Jurot cut himself using his dagger, spilling his blood within the disc, the wet crimson pooling towards the centre, where it sunk a hair’s breadth compared to the rim. “You must remain still and quiet, Adam.”

“Okay,” Adam replied, feeling his heart beat quicker as the Elder stepped forward. 

Elder Zijin inhaled deeply. Instead of exhaling, the Elder began to mutter a prayer, and he dipped the brush within the blood, mixing it repeatedly, the blood seeped into the white of the brush, turning it sanguine. Once it was completely gathered within the brush, Zijin brushed across Adam’s forehead, painting his forehead with a light blush of blood. The blood began to quickly gather around the half elf’s temples and dripped down into the barrel, but Adam could feel the warm blood pooling towards the centre of his forehead. 

“This will hurt and you will easily bleed,” Elder Zijin said, handing the brush and disc to Jurot, who held both, staring at his brother. Zijin reached within his robes once more, pulling out a needle, and finally, a vial full of what seemed to be crushed gems, a blueish white gem. “Allow your blood to spill freely, and keep still.”

Health: 126 -> 120

Adam gasped, flexing his entire body as the needle pricks at his skin, the flash of pain filling his forehead for a moment, passing away moments later. Adam winced lightly, before looking up towards the Elder, who dipped the needle into the gem dust once more, muttering a light prayer.

Health: 120 -> 113

Jurot watched carefully as his brother was constantly pricked with the needle, the half elf’s blood dripping down and began to mix with his own, while the diamond dust embedded within the half elf’s skin with each prick. It was similar enough to his own ceremony, in the sense that almost nothing was the same, except for that feeling. 

Health: 113 -> 105

Sonarot watched carefully as the father of her grandchildren was pricked by their Elder, the blood beginning to drip down the sides of his face and into the barrel. Her heart beat quickly, seeing Adam commit to the Iyr in a way she hadn’t expected. 

Health: 105 -> 96

Kitool’s eyes remained fixed to the half elf, out of respect not for the Elder or her aunt, but for the one figure who should have stood here, and yet remained studying, as was her duty. The half elf who had suddenly appeared within her life, and within six years, had managed to reshape her dreams to something grander than she could have expected. 

Health: 96 -> 94

Zijin continued to prick the half elf’s skin with his needle, implanting the diamond dust within the half elf’s forehead. The amount of diamond dust required was easily worth thousands of gold, far more than the typical tattoo, but that was the price of not using the traditional method. 

Finally, Adam couldn’t feel the pricking any longer, while his forehead continued to thrum with pain, as though he had been punched repeatedly. 

“In order to complete your oath, you will need to cut your palm,” Zijin said, circling around behind Adam, holding onto his shoulders. 

“An oath?”

“It is what you have promised the Iyr already,” Zijin stated. 

“Seriously, with how I’m plucking all these Greater Enhanced weapons?” Adam joked, looking down at his palm, then to his white dagger. “Can I use my dagger?”

“Yes.”

Adam pulled it out of its sheath, the half elf ready to cut his palm, though, Zijin quickly grasped his wrists, calling for Jurot, who took it from Adam’s hand. The half elf felt the strong hands on his shoulders, inhaling sharply, barely smelling the blood, and he finally brought the dagger to his palm. 

As Adam cut along his palm, a sudden chill ran through him, and his body fell limp within the Elder’s grasp.

Health: 94 -> 0

WARNING: EXTREME DAMAGE THRESHOLD REACHED!

Death Save

D20 + 3 = 3

Failure!

I don't have that many cliffhangers, do I?