Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[1127] – Y06.027 – The Skirmish IV

[1127] – Y06.027 – The Skirmish IV

“I was active in the Confederacy,” Shagek explained upon seeing the Aldishman’s face, before pointing his silver blade at the Aldishman, who held a name in these lands, but Shagek didn’t mind killing him first before learning it. “Are you stronger than the Sparrow?”

“...” The Aldishman realised far too late the mistake they had made, for if this Iyrman spoke so dismissively of Vice Commander Harrow, also known as Harrow the Sparrow, there was no way he had any chance to defeat him.

Dogek cut off Wraith Blade’s arm, the Aldishman grunting in pain as he swung his blade with his one good arm, but Dogek’s sword swung down with the grief in his heart. Perhaps, after actually killing Wrath Blade, he could be worthy of their affection?

The Iyrman’s eyes then fell to the fight nearby. Her rapier carved through the air, her body moving as though she herself was a rapier, but flexing far too much considering her age. Her rapier narrowly slipped through the Shade Dagger’s weapons, then pierced through within the woman’s throat.

Dogek reached up to his neck, where the Iyrman had stabbed her the previous year, it pulsing. Even though he had beaten her so viciously for her words, she hadn’t been quite so easy as most might have expected.

Shade Dagger dropped her daggers, before she followed after them. Keiwyj panted, feeling the burn within her chest, before she glanced aside to find Dogek staring at her. She stood up taller, still panting for air, unable to form words.

Dogek bowed his head slowly, and the woman returned the bow, and with Dogek’s acknowledgement, most of the guilt and shame slipped away.

“Bloodblade, eh?” someone famous from Aldland said, her voice light and playful. “You do not remember me, but I remember you.”

“I remember you,” Shasen replied, his blade, which was as red as blood, holding the woman at bay. “You are the sister of Dire Destiny.”

“Could I request you allow me to step back?” the woman asked, smiling, but the nerves in her eyes were evident.

“You may request it, but...” Shasen’s tone implied all she needed to know, for things had escalated too far, and Shasen had been asked to clean it up. The moment they had drawn blades, it was over.

“I see...” The pair paused their clash, Shasen allowed her to step back and compose herself. “My sister always warned me. She told me to be careful, since you are all so... awe inspiring.”

“I apologise.” Shasen bowed his head, seeing the look upon her face through her visor. “Would you prefer it was another’s blade?”

“No, no. If it was another’s blade, I would die with regrets. I have a favour, though...” She waited for Shasen to nod, and when he did, she glanced around, towards the lifeless bodies around her, all Aldish. “Will you return my body to her?”

Shasen inhaled sharply at the request, but seeing the look in the woman’s eyes, the last light of hope, he bowed his head. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

The pair engaged in battle once more, but the outcome was obvious. However, even to Bloodblade, she refused to fall without at least scarring the Iyrman, leaving a mark he would never forget, but it was not the scar against his shoulder which hurt the most.

Chosen panted, leaning over to rest his elbows over his knees, the Iyrman glancing aside to his father. “You should not have fought! You fought the last year.”

“Last year, it was a Vice Commander of the Purple Blades, this time it was...” Mosen decided against saying more, since his son would certainly complain he stole all the fun. “Let us drink.”

“Who was it?” Chosen complained, gritting his teeth, but what could he do to his father, who rose alongside the likes of Tonagek?

Kamrot groaned in pain, the Iyrman dropping to a knee, having barely defeated his opponent. He was moments away from passing out, but he had done it. ‘My eyes are still so keen, even after all these years! Did you see, my greatchildren? Your babo is strong!’@@@@

“You fought well, uncle,” Gorot said, also taking to a knee, the Iyrman resting his greatsword over his shoulder, the shark teeth edge wet with crimson, with sprinkles of the pink of Aldish flesh.

“You should have used an axe!”

“Sorry,” Rajin said, approaching beside Blessed Blade, having decapitated Hammer Hand. Out of respect, he had held back, resisting the urge to take the man’s arms.

“Did I not ask to fight him?” Koyah asked. “I wanted to show off in front of Asorot.”

“He may have defeated you...” Rajin replied, letting the matter of Asorot drop, since though he was a member of the Rot family, Koyah was no doubt still saddened by the boy’s movement. At the very least, he accepted it, calling the boy by his proper name, so he didn’t need to beat Koyah.

“So? What if he defeated me? It would have been a good fight!”

“You do not have permission to lose today.”

Koyah let out a loud sigh, the older Iyrman glaring at the world before him. “I should have fought to become a Paragon...”

“You fought well.”

“Only the likes of...” Koyah glanced down at the Aldishman, who probably had a wonderful epithet too. She did, but unfortunately...

“Why are you looking when you are so terrible with names?” Rajin asked.

“I remember some names,” Koyah retorted. “I remembered King’s Sword, Sir... Harold Merryweather.”

“Everyone knows of King Merryweather.”

“He is a King now?” Koyah joked, standing over the dead body whose name he still didn’t know, but at least Rajin did.

“Vibak, if you take this long, it is a shame to those who returned your glaive,” Rajin said, his quiet voice barely carrying over their clash.

Vibak silenced Wind of the Tempest forever. “Sorry.”

Vovol yawned, surprised none of the Aldishmen had made a run for it, the woman slipping her arrow back into her quiver. ‘Why did they bring so few?’

“Haa...” Keiwyj half limped her way back to the fort, rubbing her back, feeling the twinge that had plagued her for decades now.

“Do you feel better now?” Vovol asked.

“Yes,” Keiwyj admitted. “Did they see?”

“I am sure they saw,” Vovol said. “Mad Dog would have done that much.”

The pair held one another’s gaze.

Wouldn’t he?

Poor Shasen.

Baztam needs to chill. He's 2/0/3 just in this battle.