Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

‘They made all this during that year?’ Rick thought, his eyes scanning all across the wooden buildings, many of small estates which could house a small family, but there were others which could house a number of families. The towers loomed over them, and above the jagged peaks, which formed a giant wall the area, he could spot Iyrmen walking near the peaks from their side of the wall now and again. 

The Front Iyr was about as large as the village near its border, except one would never confuse the two, since this particular village was more like a fortress than a village. 

“Lead Rick,” Fred called, waving a hand as Rick returned back to the large estate they were currently settled within.

“Lead Fred,” Rick replied, the pair raising their brows towards one another knowingly. 

“Good walk?”

“Good walk,” Rick replied, shrugging his shoulders lightly. 

Fred expected as much. They didn’t understand the intricacies of the Iyr, and while a wall looked like a wall to them, there was no doubt something about the way the Front Iyr was formed that spoke more to Iyrmen.

“The temple’s to the west, isn’t i?” Fred asked.

“Aye.”

“I might go pray.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mork said, the Priest hopping onto his feet, before stretching out his body. Tork had stood wordless, the horc also feeling the same itch his brother held. 

The temple was similar to the larger estates, though made of stone, with a long building towards the western wall. It was filled with older Iyrmen, and the younger Shamans of the Iyr, who eyed up the newcomers. 

Mork glanced to the side, where he had saw a tree in the previous evening, but now stood an obelisk made of coral, with an amulet of Lady Tempest dangling over the front. The Priest bowed his head towards the Shamans, dropping down before the obelisk, holding out his hands in a prayer. 

While Tork settled beside his brother, Fred dropped down before the small statue made of stone, of a boy sitting upon a throne of jagged bones. ‘Lord… Sozain, Baktu.’

A young Shaman stood nearby, short and thin, with a look of death about her. Her skin was ghostly pale, her hair as black as obsidian, and though she was certainly beautiful, there was a gloominess which pressed down her obvious beauty. She wore an amulet of Baktu over her dark scale cuirass.

“Are you…” Mork eyed up the woman, once he finished his prayer, the man spotting her tattoos. “Are you related to Inakan?”

“I am her cousin,” the woman replied. “Izyakan.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sister Izyakan.”

“It is an honour to meet you, Brother Mork.”

“This obelisk…”

“We apologise for not placing it within the temple earlier,” Izyakan replied, bowing her head lightly. 

“No, no, it’s just… I didn’t expect it.”

“Why not?”

Mork could feel a chill run through her as the woman glared into his soul. “I did not expect… I don’t know.”

“You are under our protection now, Brother. There is no need to worry.” There was something about the tone of her voice that did not seem reassurring. 

‘Tempest, take me,’ Mork thought, quickly thanking the Iyrman, before fleeing with his brother. 

“She was intense, eh?” Tork whispered.

“The Iyrmen always are.”

“Aye.” Tork cackled, elbowing his brother. “Reminds me of Aine.”

“You mean Laine?”

“…” Tork paused a moment, trying to recall the woman’s name. “The one with the black hair?”

“Laine.”

“Who is Aine?”

“Aine’s the one with the big-,”

“Smile,” Tork said, laughing. “Oh, yes, yes. I remember. I remember her father’s glare.”

“It was your own fault.”

“How was I meant to know she was married?”

“The tattoo on her finger.”

“Women are allowed to tattoo their fingers.”

“You should have known since she was Terry’s wife.”

“She was Terry’s wife?” Tork replied, his head snapping to Mork. “You sword dropper! You knew, all this time?”

“I thought I told you, but I must have forgotten...”

“Tempest take you, you no good, sword dropping, sea drinking…” Tork grumbled to himself, rubbing his knuckles against his forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me? The things I said to her. How’m I meant ta look at Terry now?”

“He knows,” Mork said, deciding to keep it a secret that he had already taken his revenge on Terry’s behalf. 

“Aye, but Aine, Laine? Laine, now she…” Tork let out a long sigh. “If only her father wasn’t a wealthy merchant.”

“Let her go, Tork.” Mork pat his brother’s shoulder, but the thought came to him. “No, no, hold on a moment. You’ve got yourself some plate, a nice magical sword, and you’re making a… decent sum of coin. All you need to do is… gain some renown, and you could probably try to court her.”

“Aye, but… her father’s that wealthy, ain’t he? Her escort, what’s her name? Brass Sword, or something? She could beat me with an arm tied behind her back, and if she woke up, I’d have bigger trouble. Sleeping Sword! That was it.”

Mork glanced over his shoulder, noting Fred hadn’t come out with them. “Remember, eh? Jeremy and Remy, they were just porters before they joined this place. Then they became Experts, like us. I say, give it a few years, we work hard, earn a better position, we could introduce the businesses together, and you’ll be a Master and what’s her old man going to say?”

“You think?”

“If nothing else, I’ll try and figure something out. A Brother of Tempest is still a somebody, so leave it to me.” Mork pat his brother’s shoulder, for it was an elder brother’s responsibility to watch over his younger sibling. 

“I don’t know. I can find myself a nice horc lass, maybe an Iyrman lass, it’d be easier…” Tork sighed, not wanting his younger brother to worry about him, since it was an elder brother’s responsibility to watch over his younger sibling. 

“I’ll figure it out, Tee. You need to find someone for me, though. You’ve a… way with words.” It took Mork all his effort not to make a face. 

“You could try for that girl.”

“She’s your type, not mine.”

“Nawna," Tork replied, shaking his head. “My type’s Laine. The Shaman’s too…”

“Scary,” Mork said.

“Aye.”

Jonn watched the pair of brothers step back into the estate, having lightened their purses, and lightened their hearts in prayer. The half elf remained to one side, unsure of what he was meant to do as the only Manager in the Front Iyr, now that everyone else had gone. He just had to… sit there? Not only did the Iyr take care of their security and their food, but they had also taken over the education of the children. He sighed, feeling the stress of being so useless. 

“Mister Dogek!” Daryl’s voice boomed once more. “Why wouldn’t they just fight? Dragons are strong, and there’s so many of them, couldn’t they just take over the lands?”

“Some dragon’s wish to fight,” Dogek replied. “Some dragons wish to rule. Some dragons wish to trade. Some dragons wish to fly. Not many dragons wish to die.”

“How come they’d die?” Matt asked.

“If they joined together, couldn’t they just beat all the armies?” Penny added.

“There are few dragons who work well with others,” Dogek explained. “The Talia family is one such family. Entalia is Queen Silvari of Drakkelan, thanks to the efforts of her mother and father. There are other dragons which work alongside her, not just silver dragons or those of the Talia family. It is a rare instance in which dragons have worked alongside one another so closely, but even she has trouble reigning in her comrades. However, there are many dragons who still hold grudges of old, from the time before even we Iyrmen.”

“If they did, wouldn’t they be richer?” Daryl asked. 

“If they did join together, we Iyrmen would have fun hunting, and so would many others,” Dogek replied. 

Daryl stared up at Dogek curiously. ‘Are Iyrmen stronger than dragons?’

“I’m gunna, goin’, going to be a dragon when I’m bigger!” Ginny stated.

“It is hard work, and very dangerous, to become a dragon,” Dogek replied simply. 

“I can do it!”

Dogek remained silent. ‘Rajin, you should have returned instead…’

‘Was he always this talkative?’ Fred thought, staring at Dogek, who was one of the strongest in the entire Iyr, and yet sat here to teach the children, rather than defending the border as they had originally thought.

Later in the day, Dogek followed the pair out, following the young woman and the boy. He remained focused upon the area around them as Brittany taught Max how to use a bow, though she struggled to shoot. 

“Are you okay?” Max asked, eyeing up the young woman curiously.

“I’m fine…” Brittany’s heart continued to beat. The stress of not embarrassing herself in front of Dogek filled her entire body, causing her to miss repeatedly. 

After all, Dogek was Dogek. 

Brittany had seen the Iyrman cleanly kill Wraith Blade, the Wraith Blade! 

‘I almost didn’t believe it when they said he had almost killed the Sky Commander last year, but…’

The young woman walked shamefully back to the Front Iyr with Max, who had shot his bow well enough. It was a small bow with a weaker draw, and was used mostly to allow the boy to have fun whilst he learnt.

“Welcome back!” George’s magical voice filled the air as the pair returned. “How was the shooting?”

“It was good!” Max replied, the boys chatting away together.

Brittany’s eyes darted to Ivy, who ate with Charles, the pair of women almost always together. ‘Should I ask Ivy to…’ Upon recalling the handful of words she had ever heard from Ivy the past few years, Brittany understood it was a stupid thought. However, the woman tilted her head slightly, noting Ivy’s hair. ‘She… dyed her hair?’

What's this? Side character development? In our Demon Lord Troublemaker Simulator?