Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

700. Kingmaker IX

Adam stared at the Duke’s face, his eyes still open, staring ahead of him, propped up on his grandson’s shoulder. 

The air grew thick and heavy. The shock of the Duke’s death rippled through the lords, like a pebble dropping into a still lake. All remained silent for a moment before the gasps of the commoners broke the silence. Duke Ironrock stepped forward, though stopped as Adam almost leapt beside the Prince. 

The Prince turned, staring at Adam, his eyes lost like a deer struck by headlights.

“Duke Moonglow has worked hard and now he must rest,” Adam said, trying to find his thoughts, swallowing deeply. “Sir Charles, please take the lord’s body and prepare him for the funeral.”

Duke Brasswall stepped forward, but stopped upon seeing Adam’s sharp look towards him, threatening to cut him like a blade. Duke Gerald Brasswall glared at the half elf. “I was the closest with the Duke.”

“You were,” Adam relented, “and you were greatly rewarded for your service to a higher station. This matter should be dealt with by his knights and household, not by the nobles of other houses.”

Duke Brasswall remained glaring at the half elf, but he couldn’t step forward, not when it wasn’t his place to do so. He, who had stood by the Duke’s side for so long, couldn’t step forward at this time? 

An older man stepped forward from the crowd, a man in his late sixties, stopping Duke Ironrock’s words as they all turned to face him. He wore finer clothes than a typical commoner, though not quite as fine as the lords around. He carried a short blade at his side. His hair was thin, though he had still grown it out, yet his moustache was thick. 

“Sir Hadrick,” Duke Brasswall greeted the older man.

“If it will please your lordships, I will assist with the funeral,” the old man offered. 

“I will leave the former Duke in your capable hands,” Duke Brasswall stated.

“Prince Moonglow, we should proceed with your ceremony before we continue discussions,” Adam said.

“What an ominous sign,” Duke Ironrock called. “The former Duke wished to be a king, but the Sun Father took him away.”

The lords nearby grumbled.

“The Sun Father took him at great light for his hard work in life,” Adam replied, glaring at the Duke. 

“How suspicious that the Duke had fallen as you caused trouble.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “I believe you may have a point, Duke Ironrock. You caused trouble for the former Duke and now he has passed.”

“It was the former Duke Moonglow who brought us here together, but now what? You want us to coronate his young son as the King of Maronia?” 

“With the blessing of the Steward of Maronia, I do not see why we cannot,” Adam replied. 

“I will not agree,” Duke Ironrock stated.

“I will not agree,” the Duchess added. 

Duke Brasswall stepped forward, his entire body tense as he glared at the pair across from him. “I will agree with the coronation of the Prince.”

Adam sighed. ‘I wasn’t sure if he would step forward, but that makes it easy.’ “I also agree with Duke Brasswall.”

“I will not accept the words of a foreigner,” Duke Ironrock stated. “Such a state born from the meddling of foreigners will only lead to disaster.”

‘It’s not like I can refute that, considering I’m a Brit,’ Adam thought. “I was brought up to the rank of Duke by the former Duke, and so I will do what I can for this land in his honour.”

“You all speak so easily while my grandfather has passed,” the Prince said, his entire body shaking red hot with rage.

“Prince Moonglow, what were the last words of your grandfather?” Adam asked.

The Prince blinked, his fury tempered by confusion. “Please?”

“And to whom did he say such words?” Adam asked.

“You?”

“Your grandfather, with his dying breath, requested I make you a king, and I intend to do just that,” Adam said. “It doesn’t matter how many more nobles I have to kill to do it.”

“This farce should come to an end,” Duke Ironrock shouted. “I will not kneel before some puppet king of a foreigner!”

“I agree with the good Duke Ironrock,” the Duchess added.

The lords glanced between another, wondering what was going to happen here.

“You!” Duke Brasswall growled, reaching for his blade, but he found a firm grip against his elbow. 

“No one will dare to spill blood here under the sight of the Sun Father,” Adam stated, firmly. “Those who wish to remain within the protection of the Kingdom of Maronia may remain, and those who wish to leave, may do so peacefully. Once the coronation of the young Prince is dealt with, we shall come and bring you to heel, and you will see what it means to refuse the mercy which had been gifted to you.”

The lords all glanced at the two ducal lords, the pair throwing a domineering look towards their own nobles, leaving no room to disagree, before they made to leave. 

“Knights, escort the lords out of town and bar the gates,” Adam commanded. The knights of the town glanced towards Adam, a duke under their own lord, but he was still not their liege lord. However, it was the knights Adam had knights who escorted the ducal lords out, though the trio of Iyrmen remained near Crowseer. 

Two thirds of the lords remained, many the previous Duke had personally lifted into their positions. 

“Are there any here who will refuse the Prince’s rights?” Adam asked, no longer interested in going through the ceremony as he had originally planned. Silence followed. “Good.”

Adam nodded to Prince Robert, the little boy he had adopted as his trainee months ago. The boy wore heavier armour, which jangled as he stepped forward. “I understand that many of you do not trust me, partly because those who held your titles before you had the misfortune of meeting me. I will inform you now, I do not intend to keep my title for long, for I must return home. The title of duke does not interest me in the slightest, and I do not know my people enough to lord over them for I come from another land, another culture.”

“However, Prince Robert here was born as one of you. No, he was specifically born in this town. He had suffered plenty of injustices in this town. From the treatment he had received from some of his community, to the suffering he had received from the hands of those who worked with Night Lords.” Adam held out a hand, and Sir Charles Junior, the son of the knight who had taken the previous Duke away, brought a blade which had been recently crafted, and even more recently enchanted. 

“There must be someone who brings justice to this world, to right the wrongs committed by the land and its people. For the weeping mothers who lost their husbands and children to war. For the children the world abandoned after tearing them away from their parents.” Adam raised up the blade. “Oathblade, for the one who will take the title of Oathblade.” 

Prince Robert knelt before Adam, the young boy having practised for the last few days. Adam had him swear his oaths, the same oaths he had prepared previously, and the same oaths which would form him into a true Guardian. 

“Arise Prince Robert Littletree, for you are granted the title of Oathblade. From now until the end of time, it shall only be those chosen by the Oathblade who will forever hold the title.”

The blade Adam had enchanted for him had been too large for the boy, a blade which could be found in the hands of Amokan or Timojin. Yet, the boy wore his inheritance, his body not quite as thin as it had been previously, his cheeks full of fat, puffed out with pride.

The commoners clapped, watching as the boy stood, though they were still unsure of what they were witnessing. Such a ceremony was typically from the past, not from the days of now.

The ceremony continued, with the Steward of Maronia taking the title of duke. Thus were born the Three Dukes. One who took the title of Steward, one who took the title of Sword, and the last, that of the Brasswalls, who took the title of Shield. 

Adam looked towards the Steward, passing the crown and the blade to him, each which tingled with magic. The Steward’s eyes fell to Adam, who merely bowed his head. Adam had done too much alread, and in order for there to be stability and balance, the future dukes and kings would need their own specific roles. 

Quest Complete: Dukedom
XP Gained: +100
XP: 15 500 -> 15 600

Quest Complete: Conferring Kingship
XP Gained: +100
XP: 15 600 -> 15 700

Adam stared at the rewards. It was already so late in the year, but he couldn’t stop now, not when he could taste the rewards of the final quest. 

‘I’m really going this far just so the Iyrmen can kill me?’ Adam shook his head, smirking slightly. ‘I should deal with the most important thing, though…’

Adam and Jurot sat opposite Crowseer and the young woman, who seemed to be in her mid teens. If Adam passed her by he wouldn’t even have registered her, but upon seeing her, he found the averageness of this young woman to be suspicious. 

“So you’ll follow me even to this land?” Adam asked, pouring them each some tea he had procured from the King’s pantry. 

“I needed to speak with you,” Crowseer replied.

“You wanted to… speak with me?” Adam stared at Crowseer. Though they had crossed paths a few times, Crowseer had never come to specifically meet with Adam, as far as he was aware. 

“Crowseer…” Jurot glared at the figure. “How have you come here?”

“I have my ways.”

“You will be punished for your transgression.”

“I will ask for mercy when she returns,” Crowseer replied, smirking slightly, for Jurot hadn’t realised which Great Elder he referred to. “I wish to speak with you alone, Adam.”

“Anything you can say to me you can say to Jurot,” Adam replied.

“It must be only you.”

“Why?”

“They should not hear of this.”

“Crowseer, there is no way I’m going to be able to keep what you tell me a secret, especially considering an ability I will gain in the future.” Adam shrugged his shoulders.

Crowseer remained silent for a moment, closing his eyes as he thought deeply. It was true enough, for Adam was someone who was still being judged by the Iyr. “The Iyr’s trust is hardly earned and easily lost.”

“Not so easy,” Jurot corrected.

“No, perhaps not quite so easily, but to most it may be considered easily,” Crowseer replied, flashing a smile. “Very well. I wish to ask you to take the girl with you.”

“No,” the Iyrman replied instantly. “We cannot.”

“Her ancestor made a deal with a Night Lord,” Crowseer said, looking towards Adam. “She will die if she remains here. You must take her with you.”

“I don’t quite believe that’s the end of the story.”

“She is an enchanter, one who would be useful to your business,” Crowseer said. “I cannot say more, except she will, more than likely, only be a boon to you.”

“What’s in it for you?”

Crowseer smiled wider in response, his smile sickly innocent. “I would not forget this favour.”

“Hmmm…” Adam wasn’t sure. He was pretty sure he wasn’t allowed to bring the girl back over to the other side. ‘The Iyr might really kill me if I mess about too much.’

Crowseer reached into his cloak and took out a small crystal, one which was no bigger than his thumb, before placing it on the table. “Expend your magics into the crystal and it will grow. You will be able to harvest the material to smith into weapons and armour in the future. I believe you picked up another gem, one which will require your blood and magic. I would recommend you do so. I hope that is payment enough to ease your worries.”

“You’ll owe me one too?”

“I will surely repay you for your faith in me.”

“Faith and not trust?”

“Should you trust me?”

“Fair point.” Adam sighed. “It’ll be difficult to keep her protected considering what I have planned.”

“You may allow her to remain with Duke Brasswall, who will appreciate her presence while you assist the King.”

“Crowseer, you’re one scary guy…”

Crowseer smiled once more. “I am nothing compared to those you surround yourself with.”

Adam sighed, looking towards Jurot. “Can we take her?”

“Crowseer’s plans are not the Iyr’s plans.”

“You will accept, for you are Adam’s brother,” Crowseer said, flashing the Iyrman another charming smile.

“…” Jurot remained silent, his arms crossed. 

“I have gifted the Iyr with the presence of another Fate Enchanter,” Crowseer said. “Are you certain she should remain in my hands?”

“A Fate Enchanter?” Adam asked, looking to the young woman. “I see…” ‘Damn!’

Jurot tapped his bicep for a long moment. “Adam, will you call Kitool?”

Adam glanced towards his brother, wondering why he didn’t go get her himself, but then his eyes fell to Crowseer. He stood up and went to find the Iyrman, who had remained nearby, before they returned to find the air between Jurot and Crowseer much calmer. 

“Kitool, we must take the girl with us,” Jurot said.

“It cannot be done.”

“It must be done.”

“Okay,” Kitool replied, seeing as how Jurot was pushing for it.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Adam asked. 

Jurot nodded, and left it at that.

‘What just happened?’

“It was a pleasure to meet you all again but I have some business I must attend to,” Crowseer said, before standing to excuse himself. He had so much work to do due to the Prince’s death.

“What a shame that you’re going so soon. I’ll see you next year, Crowseer.”

Crowseer flashed a knowing smile, before excusing himself to the door, but he paused as Jurot spoke to him.

“How do you know the Iyr’s symbols?” Jurot asked.

Crowseer turned back to meet Jurot’s gaze, still smiling innocently. Then his eyes fell to Adam. “I almost forgot. Congratulations, Adam.”

“Yeah?”

Crowseer just bowed his head lightly, Maurice pulling back so she didn’t seem to be bowing her head, before Crowseer stepped out and left. 

Adam sighed, leaning back. “I can’t believe we met him again.”

Jurot nodded. Kitool sat beside the girl, opposite the pair. She caught Jurot’s eyes, and saw the look within the young Iyrman’s eyes. Jurot shook his head. 

“Alright, let’s focus on the task at hand,” Adam said. “We’ll form an elite team with us, the knights, and the King. Then we’ll go on and deal with everything ourselves, and once we’re done, we’ll return back and leave with our spoils and the girl.”

Adam, Jurot, Kitool, Jaygak, the knights, and the King. A small army of perhaps twenty figures, each on horseback. If it was just twenty of them, Adam would need to expend but two Mana in order to cast Goodberry, and he could feed the lot of them. ‘Ah, wait, I’ll need to expend four casts, for the horses too. I’ll need enough for three or four Fireballs, and if we need to run, we’ll ride our horses away. That should be enough to conquer the land, especially since most of us will be Experts before too long.’ 

Jurot thought on Crowseer’s words for a long while. ‘Yes. I am a good brother.’

Adam in a low magic world is just too broken. 

Next chapter is an interlude and the last for Year 02 of Beyond Chaos! 

Expect the next chapter not the following Monday, but the Monday after?