Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[1117] – Y06.017- The Request I

[1117] – Y06.017- The Request I

‘…’ Fred began to sweat within his full plate, reaching for his magical longsword as the Order members around readied themselves.

Jonn remained silent and still within his full plate, for though he hadn’t expected this from Adam, he had gotten used to not expecting Adam’s actions or reactions.

“It is my duty to end your wickedry,” James said, far too casually for someone within the range of the Mad Dog’s axe.

Jarot growled, but before he could speak, someone cut him off. It was one of the few people who would dare to cut the Mad Dog off.

“You have no duty here,” Sonarot stated, her voice full of uncharacteristic vitriol. “You who have been kicked out of Floria due to your cowardice, Aldishman.”

The open visor revealed Adam’s shocked face as his eyes darted to his Aunt, but it made sense, since his children were her grandchildren, not by the blood which flowed in their veins, but the blood that had been spilled to make sure everyone knew it.

“Now you have come, whimpering yelps, to cause trouble upon our border?” Sonarot’s eyes narrowed towards the Grand Commander, who could put her down with some trouble, since though she was about half as powerful, she was still an Iyrman.

Jurot had settled himself beside Bael, but both of their eyes fell to Sonarot, who seemed to be ready and eager to draw her axe.

“I once thought you Iyrmen knew of duty, but after aligning yourselves with demons and undead, I am not quite so certain,” Sir James replied, his voice heavy.

“One cannot trust the eyes of the Aldish, or the venom which slips through their lips when they open their mouth.”

“There is no need to start a fight, Iyrman.”

“I would not start a fight with so few of you,” Sonarot stated firmly, knowing that though they had brought an entire Order’s worth of great warriors, this was but one third of the newly formed Order.

A horn blew in the distance, and another blew from within the fort. Sonarot let out a soft exhale as she calmed herself, the group patiently waiting for the appropriate figures to approach, crossing the bridges.

He was a man who wore his wrinkles well, the long hair dyed red falling down like streams of blood, broken up by streaks of wizened white. He was clean shaven, with a strong jaw, a wide, flat nose, and small eyes full of the calm of a still lake. He was dressed in the finest of silks, black like starless night, with golden thread darting along the hem, forming a myriad of the Iyr’s patterns. At his side he wore a longsword, made of a fusion of bone and metal.

“My apologies, Grand Commander,” Chief Iromin said. The confusion within everyone grew once they noted the joyous smile on the Chief’s face, the older man reaching out a hand to shake the Grand Commander’s forearm. “I had not expected you to arrive so soon to speak of the matter so soon.”

The Grand Commander narrowed his eyes slightly, shaking the Chief’s forearms, but decided to fall into the Great Elder’s pace. “I apologise for not sending word ahead. It is a rather immediate issue which needs to be dealt with for our Order. I hope you understand.”

“It is understandable,” the Chief said, still smiling so brightly towards the Grand Commander, ignoring the growing bloodlust behind him from a particularly crippled Iyrman. “I had thought you would have sent a proxy, for the matter may take some months to discuss. However, it is our honour to host the Grand Commander, and such fine companions. It is good to see the Aldish are taking the Reaver threat so seriously.”

Rajin held Jarot’s shoulder, feeling just how eager the man was to leap forward with his axe, but he couldn’t embarrass the Iyr in front of the Aldish. However, Rajin’s eyes fell upon the Chief’s aides, and then to Baztam, whose eyes sparkled with mischief, and Rajin understood.

“However…” the Chief’s eyes darted between the Grand Commander and Sonarot, who had composed herself, but then they fell upon the Mad Dog, who was kept at bay by Rajin, Sonarot, and Shaool, who had arrived with the Chief. “Is there an issue?”

“It was you, Chief, who stated that I should come personally to speak with you in this matter,” the Grand Commander said.

“I did?” the Chief replied, holding onto his chin as he pretended to think deeply, as though he had no idea what the Grand Commander was referring to, though he certainly did. “I do not entirely recall with full confidence exactly what you may be referring to.”

“It is the matter of the deaths of our Vice Commander and his apprentice.”

“With the wisdom you have displayed, I should have expected,” Iromin said, still beaming up towards the Grand Commander with far too much affection. “You must be worried at the mercy we have shown during the matter. You do not have to worry, for the two lives, and your withdrawal from the world for one hundred years within sight of the Iyr, is enough of a punishment. We, of the Iyr, have already informed the King we would consider delaying the withdrawal during the time of the Reavers, for a decade at most. Did he not inform you of such?”

It was then the others understood what the Chief was doing, and why it made them feel sick to their stomach. He was behaving so… Aldish.

“It was said you would take full responsibility for the matter within the fort. For the matter of the murder of our Vice Commander and his apprentice, and the matter of standing alongside demons and the undead.”

“We have taken full responsibility,” Iromin replied. “It is why the King has allowed us to watch over you to make sure you do not break your word. We have already begun discussing where your fortress may be built along our border. We, too, will build an outpost to keep an eye upon your Order, to hunt those who may choose to shirk the punishment.”

The Grand Commander hadn’t expected the Chief to so openly threaten him or his Order. “Chief Iromin, I am here to discuss with you the punishment of the one who murdered our First Vice Commander Kris and Sir Melinda.”

“Why would we punish Adam?” Iromin asked.

“We will administer his punishment if you are unable.”

Iromin held James’ gaze, the Chief staring deep into the Grand Commander’s eyes. “Shaool, please call for Elder Peace.”

“We will retire for the evening and speak in the morning,” the Grand Commander said.

“Elder Peace will arrive in a moment,” Iromin said, a slow, sad smile growing on his face. “It is not the first time we have dealt with the Aldish.”

The Grand Commander remained silent, still not taking the bait, all the while waiting for Elder Peace. True to his words, within minutes Elder Peace approached the scene, rubbing her beads. There were one hundred and two beads, a hundred rounded, and two cubes. One cube was white, which she continued to rub constantly, and the other was red, but she avoided that bead in particular.

“Blessings upon you, Grand Commander James Greatwood,” Elder Peace called.

“Blessings upon you, Elder Peace,” Sir James replied.

“You are here to discuss the matter with the deaths of our children?” Elder Peace asked.

“The matter which resulted in the deaths of our First Vice Commander and Sir Melinda,” Sir James stated firmly.

“Do you disprove of our mercy?”

“We will accept the recommendation of the Iyr, but the fiend must be brought to justice.

“You do not speak of justice, but of vengeance,” Elder Peace corrected.

“Consider it both.”

“We cannot consider justice, but vengeance? We Iyrmen are no strangers to vengeance. If you wish for vengeance, what is it that you request?”

“I will duel the boy and take it, justice, vengeance, whatever you wish to call it, with my own two hands.”

“Ha!” Jarot snarled. “If it is a duel, I will fight!”

“No,” a voice broke through, causing even the Chief, to pause. “I will fight.”

Adam’s brow furrowed in confusion, as the Iyrman stood tall, glaring at the Grand Commander. He was one of the few who could hold such an audacity. The Grand Commander and the Iyrman kept one another’s gaze.

“What relation do you have with the fiend?”

“My niece is their grandmother,” Duteous replied, glaring at the Grand Commander.

Tanagek’s eyes remained glued to his granduncle, his mind blank. It wasn’t that this was particularly a surprise, for if the Iyr was going to have someone fight the Grand Commander, Dogek was one of the few who would have been sent to deal with him, but that was it. The Iyr would send him, and Duteous Dogek would reply with the Iyr’s favourite word.

“Do you think I will allow you to take it from me?” Jarot asked.

“Do you think you can stop me?” Dogek replied, causing even more panic for the Iyrmen around, who hadn’t expected the Iyrman to speak out of line, especially not in front of the Aldishmen.

Sonarot and Tonagek exchanged a glance between one another. Tonagek asked his sister to stop their uncle with his eyes, but Sonarot, though feeling the awkwardness in the air from their uncle acting up, could only think of her grandchildren, who nestled within their nano’s bosom, and not hers. Unfortunately, Sonarot would not step forward to stop it, especially since Dogek’s guilty heart was trying to protect Adam.

Jarot glared at Dogek. The last time they had fought, Jarot, who still gave various Aldishmen nightmares, had been so brutally defeated. The pity he had seen in Dogek’s eyes back then only caused him to fill with the heat of rage. Back then, Jarot had yet to regrow his fangs, but now?

“Jirot,” a voice called in the air, breaking through the silence, “your babo is stealing my prey. How can he do this?”

The complicated relationships between the Iyrmen who stood here, each wishing for a particular end for the situation. They were all unique ends, some with the survival of the figures in question, and others with the deaths of the figures in question, and others with only very specific kinds of survivals or deaths. Such ends sprang from a web of Chaos from one figure in particular.

“You need to tell babo Dogek off for stealing daddy’s prey,” Adam said, though Jirot’s whimper caused his body to tense up, and the half elf’s jaw clenched tight.

“That is right! Your grandfather will deal with him! I will take his arm!” Jarot howled, grinning wide, but his entire body flashed red hot with heat, eager to step forward, and if he needed to, fight immediately.

“It has to be me,” Adam said, and while the old man began to speak up, he was silenced by the last of Adam’s words, “grandfather.”

The shock from the half elf’s words rippled through the figures throughout. The Grand Commander hadn’t expected Adam to agree, but a small satisfied smile slipped across his lips. The Chief had hoped he could send Baztam out, though Dogek stepping forward was equally as good. Elder Peace had wanted to ask Adam if he wanted to step forward, and it would have been best if he had fought, but she hadn’t expected it like this.

Tanagek had never expected Adam to step forward, having only known the half elf for a few days, and yet he knew that the half elf was a fool of a father, who held some strength, but enough to defeat the Grand Commander? Even if he did end up clashing with Lord Royce, the previous Knight of Death, how could he dare to duel to the Grand Commander, who had specifically come to kill him? His eyes darted to his cousin, Jurot, who was staring at the half elf with surprise too.

Jurot, Jaygak, Kitool, and a few others were shocked due to Adam’s words, but not because the half elf accepted the fight. For Adam, that was almost expected.

The old crippled Iyrman’s rage dropped due to the shock, the old man freezing in place for a moment. His heart beat quicker, and a warmth and redness filled his face. The old man stood up taller, his body filled with a sudden lightness.

“I will let you go for the sake of my grandson,” Jarot said coyly towards the Grand Commander.

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