Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[1100.1] – Y05.100.1 – The Realms Beyond I



[1100.1] – Y05.100.1 – The Realms Beyond I

[1100.1] – Y05.100.1 – The Realms Beyond I

WARNING: I did not read through or edit this at all. It is a massive chapter and I am currently too sleep deprived. The same is said for the next few chapters Y05 is done. Thank you for your understanding.

I would say this content is optional, but I highly recommend reading it because... you'll see.

Adam gasped as he emerged from the lake, clasping at the nearby bank as he crawled onto soft, sweet land.

“Why does it always have to be in water?” Adam asked, rolling over to the side, panting for air. His eyes fell upwards, towards the grey peaks which threatened the heavens. “Where are you?”

“It is a world we use for training,” Jurot said, glancing around. “I have wished to train within this world since I was a man. Now that we are near Masters, we are able to train here.”

“How long?” Adam asked, spotting the greenery around them. They were in a small alcove, as Adam had become accustomed to.

“One year. Longer, if we wish. Each season is a week. We may remain longer, if we wish.”

Adam groaned quietly, before following Jurot and Kitool through the nearby cave, which swallowed them with darkness. Adam checked his abilities, noting they were all there, though much of his magic seemed faint, for he did not have his book, or his amulet.

“You should be wary of casting Third Gate spells or higher for now,” Jurot warned.

“Alright.”

As the group made their way out of the tunnel system, they followed the rough terrain of the mountains, before coming across a road as they stood over the edge of a cliff.

Athletics (Strength)

D20 + 8 = 21 (13)

21!

Adam landed with a grunt, rolling over as his chain armour jangled, before he hopped onto his feet.

They followed the road for a few hours, before coming across a small village, holding a hundred or two people at most, dispersed among a dozen or so longhouses. The Chief, an older man wearing a leather shirt, narrowed his eyes at the approaching folk, but upon seeing the tattoos, he nodded.

“Which village is this?” Jurot asked.

“Three Star.”

“The nearest city?”

“Kozovi. A week to the East.”

“What happened to Mavi?”

“Lost in the war. Burnt down by the Shogur. Terrifying peoples they were. Their Warking died, though, and they retreated a year ago. They have yet to return. Who is this one?”

“My brother.”

The Chief noted Adam’s lack of tattoos, but nodded.

“Is there work?”

“Bears.”

“Okay. We will stay and the night and deal with them in the-,”

As expected, the horns blared, and Jurot glanced aside towards where he heard the horns.

Victory!

XP +100

XP: 19 500 -> 19 600

Lay on Hands: 40 -> 35

Adam’s warmth filled the young woman, who watched as her wounds knitted together. She stared up at him in shock, and for a moment, Adam wondered if he had made a mistake, but as he glanced to his brother, he didn’t seem to acknowledge the magic.

“You may keep the bears,” Jurot offered, cleaning his axe, having dealt with one bear mostly by himself, while Jaygak and Kitool had easily dispatched the other. Adam had barely punched Jurot’s bear, and had left his brother to have his fun.

“Thank yous.”

“We need copper and silver for the road.”

“I can fill a pouch.”

“Thank you.”

The next morning, the group made their way out, following along the mountain path.

Omen: 5, 10

‘Bell?’

[Yes?]

‘Will my Omens here affect my children?’

[No.]

Adam smiled. “We headed east, then?”

“North.”Nôv(el)B\\jnn

“Why?”

“Wyverns.”

“Oh.” Adam stopped. “You mean there’s wyverns in the north?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought you meant, I just wanted to be sure,” Adam said.

“Can you summon your warhorse?”

“No, I don’t have my...” Adam paused, checking his spells. “Oh.”

Mana: 25 -> 23

Adam chanted the words to his spell, motioning with his hands, and summoned forth Zeus, who took the form of a warhorse. “Hey, Zeus.”

“...”

“Let me sit up front,” Jaygak said, climbing on top of the warhorse, before Adam hopped onto him, sitting behind her.

“I’ll remind you, I’m married.”

“I’ll remind you, you don’t have horns.”

Adam chuckled, Zeus trotting along the road, following Jurot and Kitool’s speed, rather than Jaygak and Adam’s. During their breaks, eating the bits of fruit and cooking the critters Jurot managed to catch, the Iyrman whittled away at the wood.

“So what have you been up to anyway?” Adam asked, nibbling on the sour fruit. “Kitool I see now and again, but you? You all but disappeared.”

“I’ve been working,” Jaygak replied, spinning the spit as she roasted the poor creature.

“Working?”

“Working.”

“Alright.”

Jurot blew on the symbol, offering it to Adam. “Adam.”

“My, my, my. A gift for me? Wasn’t yesterday technically our birthday, if it was the first of the first?”

“You may use it for a holy symbol,” Jurot said.

“Shouldn’t- oh.” Adam felt how heavy the wooden symbol was, then turned it over, noticing the silver the wood clung to. “That should do it.”

“Adam...”

“Yeah?” Adam replied, noting the tone in Jurot’s voice.

Jurot’s jaw tensed up. ‘I cannot say it.’ “We should be careful.”

“Alright,” Adam replied, noting Jurot had thought better of saying what he truly felt.

‘How can I ask him to buy slaves?’

As the week passed, they found an alarming lack of wyverns, but plenty of wolves. As they rode to the small stone walled town, Jaygak and Adam sat upon piles of wolf skins. The half elf noticed the town was smaller than even the village from the other world, with this town, though fairly developed, numbering perhaps a few thousand strong.

Jurot held out one of the few silvers he had for the guard.

“Weapons sheathed,” the guard warned. “Don’t act a hero here.”

“Okay,” Jurot replied, bowing his head.

They stabled their warhorse at the side of the inn, Jurot holding out a silver to the stable girl, who tipped her hat towards the Iyrman, before coaxing the magical steed to a pile of oats and a bucket of water.

As they stepped within the inn, the warmth blasted Adam, who almost melted. “For the love of all the Divine, please tell me there’s a bathhouse nearby.”

“Three corners to the left,” the innkeeper called, the man nodding his head. He wore fairly simple attire, but it was the suspicion in his eyes at these heavily armoured strangers that stepped in. He noted the rags upon their foreheads, wondering if that was their trademark. “You mercs?”

“Yes.”

“You any strong?”

“Yes.”

“Baronness is lookin’ for mercs. How strong are you?”

“You can follow us and see.”

The innkeeper nodded, tossing his towel over his shoulder, motioning his head. He stepped out, grabbing a crossbow, the dagger at his side much larger than a typical blade. He led the group to an impressive estate, for a small town. It was smaller than an extended family estate, though the walls were greater, and the towers formed a grand defence.

The Baronness eyed up the four as they approached. She was short, her face marked by wrinkles, her hair as white as snow. She noted the four before her. One adorned in chain mail, one in full plate, and two without armour, but were no doubt the kind that were quick and nimble, and perhaps, savage.

Adam glanced towards the nearby guards, four in chain who stood at the attention with spears in hand, the fifth in full plate, a large sword hanging at his hip.

“If you are to come under my coinage, there is a matter of bandits.”

“Okay.”

The Baroness narrowed her eyes.

“We will complete this matter,” Kitool said. “Is there a reward?”

“A hundred gold coins upon the end of the matter,” the Baroness assured.

“We will set out in the morning,” Kitool said, before the group were dismissed.

“I think we should let Kitool do the talking,” Adam said.

“You do not with to speak?” Kitool asked.

“I don’t feel like dying.”

“My son is growing up,” Jaygak whispered.

Adam threw her a look, narrowing his eyes. “Watch it, missy. You’re on thin ice.”

“Cool.”

Omen: 12, 15

The next morning, Kitool and Jurot led them through the nearby woods, skirting around traps they spotted, before coming across a rock that was covered in vines across one face. Kitool nodded to Jurot, who gripped his axe, and as Kitool flicked open the vines, Jurot charged in, Kitool following swiftly within. They had leapt in silently, before a yelp brought Adam and Jaygak’s attention, and they charged in to find Jurot and Kitool in the middle of a melee with almost a dozen figures.

Fighting Spirit: 3 -> 2

Attack: Battleaxe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 9 = 23 (14)

D20 + 9 = 26 (17)

Hit!

1D6 + 1D3 + 7 = 11 (2)(2)

11 damage!

Attack: Battleaxe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 9 = 23 (12)

D20 + 9 = 26 (16)

Hit!

1D6 + 1D3 + 7 = 14 (5)(2)

14 damage!

Onward Soar: 1 -> 0

Attack: Battleaxe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 9 = 23 (4)

D20 + 9 = 26 (18)

Hit!

1D6 + 1D3 + 7 = 9 (1)(1)

9 damage!

Attack: Battleaxe (Advantage)(Flanking)

D20 + 9 = 27 (18)

D20 + 9 = 28 (19)

Critical Hit!

2D6 + 2D3 + 7 = 20 (8)(5)

20 damage!

“That was quick,” the Baroness said, her eyes peering at the four who had dragged along the ten bandits, each tied by the rope, with the four ready to beat them. Kitool had already made an example of one who had tried to slip away, darting after her and beating her senseless, causing another to carry her.

“That’s what I said,” Adam muttered to himself, having beaten four of them himself with a single blow each. ‘I forget how weak people are sometimes...’

The feast before them revealed the Baroness’ favour, the ale bland, the chicken supple, the fruits juicy. Adam ate slowly, savouring each bite, hoping to take a few for his evening bath.

“I can only appreciate wine,” the Baroness said, smiling towards the four.

Adam threw Jurot a look, and as he opened his mouth, he noted Jaygak’s raised brows, and the smirk upon her face. He frowned. ‘You know what? I’ll think twice about saying it.’

Jaygak’s smirk grew.

“Now that you have proved yourself, there is another heavy purse of gold. There are small skirmishes upon the border with the various savagekin. You will assist for a month, your pay the sum of two hundred gold for your little group.”

“We would like a letter of recommendation,” Kitool said.

“If you complete your task in a satisfactory manner. You may sleep within the barracks, and you shall leave in the morning to the outpost.”

‘Gotta let her think she’s important for the letter,’ Adam thought. ‘The sheer gall of a Baroness thinking we aren’t close to royalty. The gall, I say!’

“Don’t chuckle like that,” Jaygak said, cringing upon seeing his smile.

“Bring to me your strongest,” he called, his voice low, calm, and filled with a quietness that unsettled the noblemen.

“A wicked beast,” one of the twins whispered.

“Doesn’t know its place,” the other added.

Adam inhaled sharply. He glanced aside towards Jurot. “What?”

“He has asked for our strongest.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Adam asked. “He’s talking about you.”

“You are stronger.”

“Most of my strength comes from my magical items, and...” Adam shook his shoulders, his armour jangling. “I don’t even have plate. You? You’re strong because you’re you.”

Jurot’s ears turned red slightly, but he stepped forward, donning his shield, and hoisting up his axe.

“What is your name?”

“Jurot.”

“Jurah. I am Ka’al.”

“Ka’al.” Jurot bowed his head.

“You are the strongest?”

“I am one of four who can face you.”

“Who are the others?”

“Adam, Jaygak, and Kitool.”

“You may send them to face me too,” Ka’al said before a beastkin barked. He narrowed his eyes. “Ah. You are the one who defeated some of ours yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“They say there was a force of four who had defeated half the army.”

“Yes.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“I have not heard of such a thing happening in this generation. You seem... young?”

“I am twenty three.”

“How did you become so powerful?”

“I have fought a lot.”

“I see.”

“I am almost twenty four.”

“...”

“...”

Ka’al drew the greatsword, readying himself to fight. He inhaled deeply, grumbling a prayer to himself, seeing as how Jurot was waiting. ‘Finally. A true warrior.’

Jurot could feel it. His opponent wasn’t a nobody. He was strong, that much was for certain. He was stronger than the beastkin he fought yesterday, and stronger than any of the others they had met in this world.

‘Bully Guy is going to lose,’ Adam thought. The pair fought recklessly, and while the bullkin’s axe was mightier than Jurot’s smaller axe, Adam understood just how powerful it was to have a brother like Jurot.

Jurot was nimbler than the bullkin, but he was also tougher. Then, of course, there was the shield. Though it was a simple enough shield, a simple shield was often times the difference between life and death. Even Adam, when he wielded his axe in both hands, only dealt one additional point of damage, in exchange for two points in his Defence. The two points in his Defence was just enough to denote which person was going to live or die.

Except, Jurot wasn’t just anyone with a shield. Jurot was nimble, far more nimble than the average guy. He was also tougher than the average guy. Except, for a Rage Dancer, both of these together formed their Defence.

Adam’s Defence was 16 from his armour, 17 from Defence, 18 from his magic, and 20 with his shield.

Jurot’s Defence almost matched his own, 18 or 19, though he wore no chain, like Adam, and did not enhance it through magic. Jurot’s Defence was that high because he was a Rage Dancer, and he was crazy strong.

Unarmed, unarmoured, Jurot was the second most terrifying figure within the group, perhaps in some ways, he was the most terrifying figure.

However, Adam hadn’t expected that. As the pair fought, Adam realised why he had thought so soon. Though Jurot and the bullkin fought with great passion, Ka’al was not fighting like Jurot. The greataxe sometimes missed Jurot, but every time it struck, it struck with twice the force of Jurot’s own blows. He fought as viciously as Amokan, who always threw caution to the wind, and used his blade to bisect his opponents.

‘Come on, Jurot.’ Adam bit his lower lip, regretting not going ahead. With his Shield spell, he could increase his Defence to 24, meaning the bullkin would need a Critical Hit, a one in ten chance considering the way he fought. His smites would have also quickened the battle, but Jurot? Jurot fought not with magic, but by something even greater.

Rot.

One of the greatest weaknesses of the Rot family was that, against other Rage Dancers, they did not possess anything special. Their abilities were great against other warriors, but more importantly, Oathsworn, who could still bypass the resistances of most Rage Dancers, save the Rot family’s way of dancing.

‘If I had gone first...’ Kitool was fairly certain she could have won if she had managed to go first and stunned the bullkin in place. If she hadn’t, then she would have fallen quickly, since she was not as tough as her companions.

Meanwhile, Jaygak was under no illusions, for she understood she wouldn’t have been able to handle the bullkin. The only time she truly thrived was against magical foes when they were unable to use magic, in the dark, in complete blackness, and, wherever there was fire.

Though she was watching the fight, her mind wandered. She thought of her younger brother, who had so excitedly held Stormdrake. She thought of Taygak, who had given up Bloodseeker to Enisa. Then she thought of Kavgak and Maygak, each who were still so small.

‘I wonder if it’s Fate,’ Zijin had said.

‘What?’ Jaygak replied.

‘You... retired.’

‘...’

Zijin stared at the wine before him. ‘It was always my biggest regret, that I was unable to help the Gak family. In the last couple of years, I thought if I could help Taygak, she could inspire Raygak, and he would have a fair chance in becoming a Master. I always thought Raygak held the most potential when it came to his generation of Gak children. I am certain that when Taygak leaves, she will do well, but she will stop, like you, for Raygak. I thought, for the last few years, Raygak would be the one to raise your family’s name...’

Jaygak recalled it, the smile on Zijin’s face. It was not the smile of trouble, like her niece’s smiles, nor was it a smile of joy, as one might have expected. It was the smile of hope.

‘In twenty years, when my hair and bears are white, when perhaps your hair will whiten from the stress, we will see it.’

‘See... what?’

Zijin smiled, pushing his personal notebook in front of the young girl. It was a book only meant for Elders. Jaygak had tentatively reached for it, and there she saw it.

Four names.

Kavgak.

Maygak.

Tavgak.

Faygak.

Jaygak had read the notes in the Elder’s handwriting, each letter written with care, each word thoughtfully constructed. Then came the recommendations.

‘Will they allow it?’

‘That is for my successor to worry about,’ Zijin joked, for he had done all he could to pave the way for the Gak family.

Jaygak hadn’t been blind to it. She had seen Kavgak lead the four year olds. She had seen the way not even Maygak relented to her elder sister when it came to her sweets. She had seen the way Tavgak played so graciously with the children. She had seen Faygak, though so shy and sweet, refuse to surrender her toys with her grip, even to the likes of Taygak.

The four letter word known as hope had been buried deep within, for all she could do was have faith that the children would grow well. They would need an Elder who would push them forward, and the Iyr to do what was expected of it, and they needed another four letter word.

Fate?

Luck?

Jaygak’s eyes fell to the figure beside her, who tapped his bicep lightly, the gentle jingling of chain sounding like the gentle rain.

Adam let out a relieved sigh as the bullkin dropped to a knee, causing the beastkin to fall silent. Their hollering almost inspired a win, but their leader had been unable to bury the wall known as Jurot.

Just like that.

Victory!

XP Gained: +300

XP: 20 800 -> 21 100

Due to the appearance of four figures, the borders had been secured, by the clashing of armies, and by the clashing of two monsters. The beastkin retreated, and for the next month, they remained in the shadows. Though the armies were sent out, the beastkin were nowhere to be seen, or rather, some were seen, and upon seeing one of the four figures, they returned to the shadows.

Quest Complete: Noble Duties

XP Gained: +200

XP: 21 300 -> 21 500

“What of the letter of recommendation?” Kitool asked, accepting the pouches full of gold and silver.

“That requires some time,” the Baroness replied simply.

“Do we need a recommendation?” Adam asked.

“It is useful to have.”

“Let’s at least go back to working with royalty. I mean, no offence to your good self, Baroness, but our circle is usually a little more... prestigious, back where we’re from. We should have gotten a letter of recommendation from our friend if it was going to be a big deal, but hey ho, that’s life. Come on. Let’s head out before they accuse of something and we have to burn down another castle for causing trouble.”

“Why do we always have to burn down their castles?” Jaygak asked. “It looks back upon some of us more than others.”

“That’s how it works. They accuse us of something, I get mad, then we end up killing them all, taking our recompense, then leaving. It’ll be up to their ruler to put in another noble family that knows its place, not ours. If the ruler has a problem, then, well, I mean... we’ve probably killed more Kings than we’ve put onto a throne, right?”

“That happened so far away, they probably haven’t heard of it,” Jaygak replied.

“Not my fault they couldn’t see how strong we were while holding back against the beastkin. If they want to get rid of us, they’ll need two hundred soldiers to protect their lands, and more to kill us. She’s smart enough to know that, aren’t you, Baroness?”

Baroness Fyrtwick blinked, glancing towards her eldest son, who returned a confused look.

“Look, you’ve confused them. They think you’re making it up.”

“Once she accuses us of something, we can just show her.”

“So you’re going to wait?”

“Well, obviously. I’m a civilised man, I wait to defend myself rather than, you know... whatever they do here.” Adam waves his hand dismissively. “I mean, look, they haven’t even gotten rid of slavery. What else do you expect from such a... folk.”

“Are you going to mess with these people too.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Don’t call them people, that’s... that’s offensive. I mean... sure, they have... rhythms. Customs. Very, tiny castles, and...” Adam eyed up their attire, “colourful rags. Just because someone has decent armour or weaponry, does not allow them to sit at our table.”

Jaygak glared at Adam, who glared at her in return, and before either of them could break, Jurot and Kitool escorted them out.

“I really appreciate that,” Adam said, fist bumping Jaygak. “I really, really needed that.”

“It felt refreshing to me too,” Jaygak admitted. “I’m almost impressed by how noble you could act.”

“No one could it better than Greyland,” Adam said, almost too proudly. “Should we wait for them to arrest us? I can drop a Fireball or two and we can head out.”

Almost like clockwork, the knight and four guards appeared, staring at the four, two of whom remained straight faced, while the other two beamed from behind their helmets.

‘I probably shouldn’t burn down the castle, the commonfolk could probably use it,’ Adam thought, already preparing to cast his magic. ‘Why did they bring only four though?’

As they rode away to the next city, Adam sighed. “I feel almost like a thief.”

“Do thieves usually gain an additional hundred gold for threatening a noble’s life?” Jaygak asked.

“I guess not. Plus, if I’m stealing from a thief, is it really theft?”

“Are they thieves?”

“The root of nobility is theft, isn’t it?”

“I thought it was murder they call killing?”

“Yes, but also theft.”

Jaygak narrowed her eyes.

“Think about how the Aldish-,”

“You really are smart.”

Adam smiled, all the while sitting while facing the back of the road, the least romantic way of riding. “Do you think Vonda makes exceptions for nobles?”

“No.”

“This is the problem with having such a perfect wife. I need to be better to meet her expectations.”

‘Do you feel that bad?’ Jaygak thought.

‘Should I pick a fight with nobles?’ Jurot thought, wondering how he should cheer his brother up.

‘We should adopt a few children,’ Kitool thought, who was no doubt the wisest of them all.

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you call them Fartwick?”

“I do have some class, Jaygak.”

What? Intelligent nobles? In my story?


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