Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

Interlude: Business Festivities

The darkness blanketed the land, the stars twinkling above. The gentle music at the business could not calm the Lead’s heart. He stood upon the wall, staring out to the nearby village, illuminated by its celebrations for the end of noonval and the arrival of the harvest season. He closed his eyes, hearing the gentle drumming of Rock Hill instead, his heart thrumming within his chest to that same beat. He could hear the laughter of his youth, the innocence before he became an adventurer, and the hope for when he could return home.

‘Pak’s gone all soft on us,’ she had said back then. ‘Swear he’s changed after meeting some kinda gal.’

Fred opened his eyes, returning to the present. ‘What’s all this I’m thinking about now?’

The young man circled around the walls, going from looking over the village, to the river, to the Iyr’s land, to the river, and then finally back to the village, lost within his thoughts. He stared at the village for a long while, focused on nothing in particular, but also on the most important thought within his mind.

He closed his eyes, finding himself face to face with a particularly confident little girl. Her eyes were narrowed upon him, the girl’s hands behind her back, her shy little brother gazing up at him with such sweet, innocent eyes.

‘Good work?’ she had asked.

‘I’d like to think so.’

‘You are working hard?’

‘Working hard, or hardly working?’

‘Okay,’ the girl replied, nodding her head slowly, not understanding the joke. ‘You have to work hard, because you are Lead, okay?’

Fred’s heart swelled slightly. ‘I will do my best, Little Boss.’

‘I am not Little Boss, I am Demon Load.’

‘…’

‘You understand?’

‘Yes, Little Boss.’

She had raised her brows as though daring him to pick a fight with her. She inhaled deeply, shaking her head as though she were an old grandfather disappointed by the youth of the day, before she sauntered off.

‘So smelly, so smelly.’ As the girl sauntered off, the boy had turned back towards the Lead, and smiled, waving at him, before following his sister to go and bother other workers.

Fred and Jonn had caught one another’s eyes, and nodded, before the half elf stalked the children, making sure they didn’t get into trouble.

Fred opened his eyes once more, staring at the village where it had happened. A flash of Jonn’s face appeared to him, the farmer letting out a small sigh. ‘Damn.’

“You are thinking so deeply,” called a voice, causing Fred’s hair to stand on end, his heart beating rapidly. She had short black hair, a pair of scars across her face, and was well built, wider than even the typical Iyrman. The greatsword upon her back was slightly too large, not that Fred would say such a thing to her.

“Aye,” Fred replied, followed by a long moment of silence. “Haytam, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I heard that… the children, Adam’s children, they’re… Iyrmen?”

“Okay,” Haytam replied.

‘Okay?’ Fred thought, though he had no courage to look at her. “They’re… your nieces and nephews?”

“Their granduncle is my uncle,” Haytam confirmed.

“Acting Director Gorot?”

“Yes. He is my mother’s elder brother.”

‘Gorot?’ Fred thought about how many times he had met the Iyrmen. Other than brief greetings, and condolences from the Iyrman, they hadn’t talked much. ‘Is he a somebody in the Iyr?’

“Will you go?”

“Go?”

“To fight.”

“Fight?” Fred asked. “The… Orders?”

“Yes.”

“Adam wouldn’t…” Fred fell silent. It was a foolish thing to say, a foolish thing to hope. “If he wants me to go, I’ll go.”

“I insisted. I was denied,” Haytam admitted, frowning as she stared at the village, the gentle flames within illuminating the buildings in the distance, and cast long shadows as the villagers danced.

“You wanted to go?” Fred asked, though he felt like it was a stupid question once it had been asked.

“Yes.”

Fred had only recently learnt that the pair were related, in a roundabout way. ‘Are you that close to them?’

“It hurt to be denied, though it was expected,” Haytam said. “Uncle will go for the Tam family, though he holds the name Rot.”

Fred wasn’t sure how the politics in the Iyr worked, and he didn’t want to ask further, understanding that the Iyr was the Iyr, and he was but a Lead. “He… gave me a pebble.”

“Who?”

“Little Boss… Jarot.”

Haytam blinked, only to realise he meant the other Jarot. She smiled as the confusion, and her smiled widened as she thought of the other Jarot, the Jarot she grew up hearing about. “When you go, you must watch him.”

“Him?”

“The Mad Dog.”

The name caused Fred to shudder. That’s when he glanced around, realising he hadn’t seen the old man. The old man that doted on his greatchildren so tenderly, even though he was a nightmare for the Aldish.

“Even if I cannot go, it is fine, since he will go,” Haytam admitted. “He will soothe our hearts.”

Fred thought about the older Jarot, the one armed, one legged Iyrman. Sometimes, he had seen it, the old Jarot that the Iyr had spoken about. Yet, he was so old now, far past his prime, and though at one point he was only missing an arm, now he was missing a leg, dampening his strength further. Still, the Iyrmen were excited to see that kind of man fight again?

While the pair enjoyed their silence, a pair of brothers sat around the fire, eating porridge and sipping grain wine. The mood in the business had shifted for a short while upon their return, but had quickly returned back to normal as the festivities continued.

‘Even if they’re goblins, you can’t just kill a man’s children,’ Tork thought, grunting to himself. ‘His heart…’ Tork could only imagine the pain Adam, and his wife, Ray Vonda, were in. ‘Will they request help from the Order?’

Mork remained silent, staring at his porridge. Soon, he would need to complete his fast and prayers for the start of duskval. His eyes darted to the side, to peek at the Iyrmen nearby. There was one, a man who was well built, his tattoos blue, a circle flanked by diamonds, but the weapon he wore upon his back was very different.

Mork was certain he had heard it. At some point in their conversation, it had been revealed that the children were Iyrmen. Except, there was no way that could be true. If news that children of the Iyr were killed, it would have already spread. The Iyrmen would have already sent someone out by this point.

He had studied in the North, where the foundations of the Aldish Kingdom had been taught to him. Part of such a foundation was the Second Blackwater Crisis, in which the Iyr played a crucial role in almost destroying the nascent kingdom. The North’s respect for the Iyr came from the same source as the theory as to why the Iyr continued to survive for this long.

The same reason as to why their warriors were so damn strong.

‘No,’ Mork thought, trying to calm his heart. ‘It can’t be that. It’s a shame it’s not, since our Executive won’t get the justice he wants. If only they hadn’t been killed. If only it had been on the Iyr’s land. Poor sod.’

Meanwhile, Bael yawned, feeling the cool breeze that beckoned duskval closer. He stared up at the stars, noting all the constellations he had been taught by his great grandfather. He closed his eyes, recalling the scene of his great grandfather singing, shooting his empty bottles with blasts of lightning. It was only now that he realised how tired his great grandfather had been.

‘Pops, how comes nan had to die?’

The old man smiled a sad smile, closing his eyes, the memories of his daughter filling his mind. Bael had reached out to hold the old man’s hand, causing him to return to the present of that time, the old man smiling slightly more brightly once he returned.

‘It doesn’t matter how strong you become, you’ll be humbled by Fate.’

‘Then I’ll beat Fate up.’

‘If I can’t beat Fate up, can you?’

Bael scoffed. ‘I’m not an Emperor, so I can beat up Fate, and you can write the papers.’

‘Bael, if you’re that smart, you should-,’

‘Oh, did you hear that? I think I need to go beat up someone.’

‘Who will you beat up today?’

‘Hmm. Pops, what’s that turtle’s name?’

‘Which turtle?’

‘The one in the Lower Realm.’

‘I don’t really remember many of their names.’

‘Yoopina?’

‘Urkina?’

‘Yeah, that old drake. I’ll be back in a year or two, ‘kay?’

‘Okay,’ the old man had said, allowing Bael to leave. It was a few weeks later when the old man realised Bael wasn’t allowed to head to the Lower Realms.

Bael smiled wide, recalling the memories, of how much stress he caused his father. ‘I wonder if he’s figured out if I’ve left yet, or is Aina bothering him?’

Bael glanced out towards the village once more, his smile slowly fading. He stood up, feeling the chill run through him deeper. As the melancholy struck him, he hopped off the wall, and walked around the perimeter of the fort, every so often glancing back to the village, imaging the scene. He knew exactly where it happened too.

He stared at the scene, where it had happened, his eyes glazed over as the scene repeated itself before him within his thoughts.

“Oogoo,” the boy called, clutching at his father’s shirt.

Nobby glanced down towards Merry, meeting the boy’s eyes, which remained unfocused for a moment, before they caught his gaze. The baby smiled shyly, giggling lightly, before hacking. Nobby reached over to tickle the boy’s nose, causing him to sneeze. ‘…’

It was late in the night when the hushed voices filled the corner of the business.

“This is ridiculous!” Harriet whispered angrily. “Why do you have to go?”

“I have go,” Rick replied, as though it were that simple.

“You don’t! You’re not a Manager, this has nothing to do with you.”

“It’s expected of me.”

“So what?”

“So I have to go.”

“Why you? Greg can go!”

“Harriet,” Rick said, his voice lowering, his brows raising.

“What? It just makes the most sense! We have four children, and he doesn’t even have a wife!”

“Whatever happens, I have to be the one to go,” Rick stated, his voice carefully firm. “It’ll be fine.”

“Fine? Fine? Are you crazy? Has the Lord of Chaos meddled with your mind? You’re talking about going to fight the Orders! The Orders, Rick! Are you a damn fool? The Orders of all things!”

Rick reached out to hold the woman’s shoulders, staring deep into her eyes. “When I get back, let’s take a month off, together, just you and I.”

Harriet slapped her husband’s chest and grabbed his collar, before the pair embraced, Harriet burying her head into his chest. ‘You damn fool, Rick!’

Rick knew it in his heart. He had to go. If he didn’t, what would Lady Elaveil do to him and his family? Since he had received so much from the half elf, he needed to repay the debt. ‘I’m sorry, Ri.’

This... isn't a cult, is it?