Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

576. Final Phase II

Attack - Wraith
D20 + 10 = 18 (8)
Omen: 12, 19 -> 12
19 + 10 = 29
Critical hit!
Mana: 20 -> 17
Ability: Divine Smite
Wraith: 3 -> 0
4D6 + 4D6 + 8D6 + 12D6 + 9 = 113 (1, 4, 5, 5)(2, 3, 5, 6)(1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5)(1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6)
113 damage!

Sir Roseia blinked. She watched as the red threads of her cape floated all around her. She turned slowly to stare at the Half Elf who had walked past her casually.

Adam continued to walk away from her, sheathing Wraith as he reached for his helmet. He paused for a moment, wondering how she was still standing up, but then removed it.

“I,” the Half Elf began, his entire face tense, his jaw twitching as he clenched it, “surrender.”

An eery silence filled the arena. The crowd was shocked by what they had seen, but even they didn’t truly understand what they had witnessed.

The Duchess placed her cup of tea down onto the table before her. Even her guest, the typically boisterous Kira, needed to take a moment to gather herself. She already understood why the arena had refused her bet, since they wouldn’t dare to take coin from anyone from the second floor, or the inner octagon if they had suggested who should win.

However, this…

Blood Cape.

It was a magical item which was handed to only the wealthiest, and greatest, of families. The cape was no doubt gifted to Sir Roseia by her family in order to make sure she had a greater chance of winning. It was one thing for them to equip her with not only a Greater Enhanced greatsword and a Greater plate mail, but the Blood Cape?

If she had been brought down to no Health, then she would remain standing at a single Health. It was the same ability that the Jin family possessed, and had revealed during the tournament, something which every figure envied.

Adam, who casually struck Sir Roseia with a single blow of his axe, and walked past her, had managed to deal enough damage to almost outright kill the young woman. It was something one could only expect from the likes of the Grand Master of the Order of the Thousand Hunts, not some rising star from the second range within the tournament.

Adam bowed to the audience on each side, still annoyed that he had lost, but he felt cold that he had to lie like this. ‘Damn it.’

As he walked out towards the main gate, the audience jeered, expecting a greater fight than what they had seen. None had truly understood what they had witnessed.

However, those on the first and second floors, as well as the octagon, knew what Adam’s surrender meant, and the meaning behind the crumbling cape.

“That,” Jurot said, lifting up his mug of ale, “is my brother.”

Those who sat nearby glanced the Iyrman’s way.

“What a shame he had to lose,” said a familiar face behind the young Iyrman. “May I sit with you?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

Fisher Black rested his stony blade against the wall beside them. “That young man, he’s your brother?”

“Yes.”

“He’s no Iyrman.”

“Yes.”

“He is?”

“No.”

“Ah,” Stone Sword said, understanding how the Iyrman responded. “There were those from the ground floor who bet on Adam, I’m sure. No one in this room was foolish enough to bet on him, knowing who he was against, and who the good sir was sponsored by.”

Stone Sword’s words struck some of the mercenaries nearby, who had decided to bet big on the off chance Adam did actually have permission to fight her.

“Did they ask you to step down?” Stone Sword asked, asking Jurot the most important question. It wasn’t just a question for Jurot, but for Kitool and Amokan too.

“The Grand Master spoke with us,” Jurot admitted.

“The Grand Master?” Stone Sword sighed, recalling, as they all did, the news that he had become a Paragon. “What a shame.”

Jurot began to stack up gold coins onto the table, the gentle clinking sounds echoing nearby, only drowned out by distant whispers. Jurot then pushed the gold coins towards the edge, and motioned with a hand to order drinks for everyone.

“An Iyrman will take first place,” the young Iyrman stated, his voice firm and clear, carrying towards the whispers.

“You sure you should be annoying the order?”

“The Iyr and the order have both closed its gates.”

“The Grand Master isn’t inside the order.”

“And we are not in the Iyr.” The shadow of a smile appeared on the Iyrman’s face.

“You think you’re that strong?”

“No,” Jurot began, “I know we are.”

‘What a bunch of crazy bastards,’ Stone Sword couldn’t help but think.

“While you Aldishmen were littering the south with the bodies of your soldiers against the Aswadians, we Iyrmen were busy killing demigods,” Amokan said, a wild grin appearing on his face. “A Grand Master of an order? Even if it is the Order of the Thousand Hunts, we Iyrmen do not stop at just one thousand hunts.”

“Amokan, are you picking fights with Aldishmen?” Adam asked, approaching the group, which had gained a famous figure. “How can you bully me like this? I’m the idiot whose meant to be doing that.”

“I heard that you wished to stop,” Amokan retorted.

“Why would I stop now?”

“Because,” Amokan said, switching to their tongue, “you are, now, a father.”

Adam wondered why he said it so awkwardly, but he understood the point, and so sat down beside his brother without causing more bother. “It’s good to see you again, Stone Sword.”

Stone Sword nodded. “I watched your fight.”

“What did you think?”

“It’s a shame you weren’t sponsored by someone greater.”

Adam smiled. “Well, Sir Landon isn’t so bad.”

“Their reach is so… little.”

Adam stifled his chuckle. “I hear you’re in the top four too.”

“Too?” Stone Sword asked. “Are you trying to place us in the same ranking.”

“As if,” Adam replied. “It’s not like I’ve faced anyone of your calibre.”

Stone Sword noted the look Adam shared with Jurot, wondering what that was about. “I’m hoping to find some luck during the fights.”

“I’ll pray for you,” Adam said, brushing his amulet.

“If I die, I hope he’ll take my soul quickly,” Stone Sword quipped, before tapping his heart gently and muttering a quick prayer to Lord Sozain.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Mother Soza will watch over you and your opponent,” Adam said, winking to Vonda. “Anyway, whose fighting today that I can bet on?”

“It will be Kitool against Gordan,” Jurot said.

“So you’re facing Amokan?”

“Yes.”

‘What a weird combination,’ Adam thought. He wondered why he fought Sir Roseia first, rather than Sir Karra. ‘Is it because they wanted the finals to be Sir Roseia against Sir Karra? Then I guess it was a coin flip?’

“Nobby is facing Bavin, and Naqokan is facing Faool,” Jurot said. “Their fights should end soon.”

Adam wasn’t a fan of the fact they could only see one set of fights, but he supposed that was just how it was in this kind of arena. The arena was pretty large, so it was more like four arenas joined together.

“You think Bavin will manage to pull out the win against Nobby?”

“He is the grandson of Bovin,” Jurot said.

“Who is Bovin?” Stone Sword asked, noting the importance Jurot had placed on the word.

“The previous Elder Wrath.”

“Elder Wrath?” Stone Sword asked. “I heard there was an Elder Wrath who fought in the south, Aswadia.”

“Yes,” Jurot said. “Bavin’s grandfather.”

“Isn’t he a big shot in the Iyr?”

“The Elder Wrath has changed,” Jurot explained. “The families of the Great Elders do not hold more important than others.”

“You Iyrmen have such a queer system.” Stone Sword shook his head. “I’ve never been able to wrap my head around it. It’s a system where everyone chooses who is the leader? Something about each family having two… votes?”

“Yes.”

“So your farmers and your warriors all get to choose who becomes the leader?”

“Every Iyrman is a warrior first,” Jurot corrected, “and we allow our family’s leaders to choose on our behalf.”

“You’re all warriors first?”

“Yes.”

“Even your farmers?”

“Yes. Every Iyrman will reach the rank of Expert in their lifetime.”

“Every Iyrman?”

“All Iyrmen of able body and mind reach the rank of Expert before the age of forty. It is our duty.”

The look in Jurot’s eyes almost unsettled Stone Sword. It was as though he was within the Iyrman’s sights. “So, you’ve got a new Great Elder?”

“Yes.”

“Is he anyone special?”

“The Aswadian who defeated the previous Great Elder joined his family,” Jurot said. “His family is on the rise.”

“The Lion King?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve heard of Ashmir?” Adam asked.

“Who in Aldland hasn’t?” Stone Sword replied. “He’s been dominating the arena in Aswadasad for almost two generations. They say he was born in the arena, and has lived his entire life there. They also say he’s a Paragon.”

“He is,” Jurot confirmed.

“He joined the Iyr?”

“Yes.”

“Can I join the Iyr?” Stone Sword asked.

“You wish to join the Iyr?” Jurot asked as the Iyrmen around suddenly leaned in towards Stone Sword.

“No, no, I’m just askin’ is all.” Stone Sword raised up his hands innocently.

“If you wish to join the Iyr, it is a simple matter,” Jurot said. “You may be adopted by any family which uses a shield and sword, or another if you wish.”

“Do you want to join the Gak family?” Adam asked, motioning his head to Jaygak.

“He has no horns!” Jaygak snapped towards the Half Elf. “He should join the Gek family.”

“The Gek family?” Adam asked. “Oh, Uncle Tonagek?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, well, I’ll think about it.” Stone Sword smiled awkwardly towards the group. “I should be heading out to prepare for my fight.”

“Good luck,” Adam said. “I’ll bet on you.”

Stone Sword smiled, bowing his head towards the Half Elf and the Iyrmen, as he made to leave.

“We should go too,” Jurot said.

“Yes,” Amokan replied, following Jurot out.

“Good luck, Kitool,” Adam said, holding out his fist for her to bump it.

Kitool did so, gently, before leaving.

“Finally, those crazy monsters are gone,” Adam said, sighing out all the tension in his muscles. “Iyrmen are so scary.”

Rick, Remy, and their companions all remained silent.

“I don’t want to hear that from your mouth, Adam!” Jaygak replied, crossing her arms.

“What did I do?”

“You almost killed the King’s Sword’s heir!”

“When?”

“Just now?”

“Oh please, if I wanted to kill her, I would have killed her! I can’t go around killing people during a tournament, Jaygak, that’s ridiculous. Think about Sir Vonda, why don’t you?”

Jaygak huffed, but did not continue, as she looked past Adam. Adam heard the heavy boots stop behind him, and he looked back up. A heavily armoured guard, one who wore full plate mail, a cloak of purple and gold, and a longsword at her side.

“I said I wouldn’t kill her!” Adam repeated, quickly. ‘Damn it! Me and my stupid mouth! Why can’t I just learn to shut up?’

Adam just can't help himself. Hopefully one day he learns to keep his mouth shut.