Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

[765] – Y03.065 – Trouble at Port II

The captain’s pouch was heavy with gold, however, other issues were still present. He had hoped the mass influx of Iyrmen didn’t request to come onto his ship, and while the largest group of Iyrmen had paid to come on board, they were in a mixed group of Aldishmen and Aswadians. His prayers had been answered, but other groups had offered coin to board his ship, quite a lot of coin, though they seemed to be more troublesome than the polite Iyrmen who had offered him so much coin to take them to East Port.

He eyed up the warrior in purple and the Iyrman, wondering what the pair of Iyrmen were going to do to the two group who were ready to brawl. The glint of steel they wore meant they were capable, but were they capable enough for the likes of those two infamous warriors?

“This is why you drakken should stay in your lands up north,” the adventurer stated, his lips forming a wider smirk. 

The drakken, her scales a shimmering brass under the noonval sun, snarled. She was a drakken, obvious by the scales across her neck, and the small horns which peeked through her short hair. It was also obvious she was from the east, since most drakken from the north had white or silver scales. However, it wasn’t as though the adventurer was going to show her such decorum, no, there was no doubt that it was on purpose.  

“Enough talking!” she snarled, though her lips formed a slightly smirk. “You Aldish always like to talk with your mouths, but we speak with our blades.” Her hand twitched towards her blade. 

“And mighty blades they are,” Adam called, approaching the group which made their way from the east. “Especially yours, but who doesn’t know how mighty your blade is?” Adam reached over to pat the drakken woman’s back. 

She turned swiftly, reaching for her blade and made to strike, but the glint of purple caused her to stop. “Ha! What are you doing here?”

“Stopping a fight from breaking out, apparently,” Adam said, extending out his hand, shaking the woman’s forearm. “I see you’re still eager to fight as always, Vasera.”

The older man eyed up the pair of newcomers, though his eyes fell to Jurot’s, and remained fixed within the Iyrman’s eyes. “Iyrman.”

“Thorn,” Jurot replied. 

The older man narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t exactly a surprise he was noticed, considering he was a steel rank adventurer who was bordering silver, but for the Iyrman to be so firm even in the face of him, there was something unnerving about it. 

“I was going to teach this kotha a lesson,” Vasera said, her eyes returning back to the older man, whose gaze met hers once more. “Come. Draw your blade. Once I spill your blood, we will be done of this.”

Adam shook Rook’s forearm. “I see you’ve been hard at work trying to keep everyone alive.”

Rook smiled slightly in response, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I do to keep her at bay? I was unable to keep her from drinking much this morning. Not even the promise of firewine from East Port could manage to keep her from the sailor’s piss they sold.”

“Vasera,” Adam called, patting her shoulder gently. “Let’s not cause any trouble for the captain, who is being so kind to allow us to board his ship.”

“There is no such kindness when we have paid him his gold,” Vasera replied, cracking her neck from side to side.

“Look, let’s, you know, be nice for the captain, who will surely appreciate us taking a step back.”

“Step back when this kotha wishes to fight?” Vasera asked. “I have my reputation to consider!”

“Beating an Aldishman twice your age isn’t quite as impressive as you think it sounds,” Adam said. “We need to show our elders appropriate respect, even when they say ridiculous nonsense, because they’re already one foot in the grave.”

Jurot’s head turned slowly to gaze upon his brother. He blinked. Even the Aldishman who had started bother with the Golden Savage turned his head to look upon the newcomer in purple. Dunes exchanged a look with Vonda. Only yesterday, the young half elf was pale with fright, and this morning he was so eager to cause trouble. 

“Hah,” the adventurer, the leader of the Hard Thorn party, called out. “Who are you, boy?”

“Me?” Adam replied. “I’m a nobody, just some guy who ranked third in the noonval tournament. My brother here, however, ranked first.”

Vasera also turned to face Adam. “If you are a nobody placing third, then who am I when I placed fourth?”

“You were just unlucky,” Adam replied, shrugging his shoulder. “Unlucky enough to face me.”

“Are you picking a fight with me?” Vasera asked, her lips forming a wider grin. “We will see whether it is you or I who has the bad luck!”

“I’m not interested in finding that out,” Adam said, his eyes meeting the Aldishman’s. 

The Aldishmen eyes up the group, noting their gear, which was quite decent. He presumed they wielded magical weapons, which was more than fine, since that was the entire point. His group, six members strong, mirroring the Golden Savages across from him, stood at the ready. Unfortunately for them, two more had come to assist the Golden Savages, though that was no problem at all, it just gave them better justification for self defence. 

“A nobody has come to help you?” Ralph, the leader of the Hard Thorn party, asked. “Isn’t that just what you need, Golden Bitch?”

Vasera tilted her head, her jaw clenching, her brow pulsing. Rook placed a hand at her elbow, trying to calm her down. There was a particular word which always caused her to flush red, not because it annoyed her, but because it meant the other person wanted to fight, and she was not one to deny a fight.

Ralph glanced towards the other Iyrman who approached, a woman wielding a staff. “How many nobodies have come to help you?”

Jurot’s eyes darkened as he glared at Ralph, but he listened to Kitool’s whisper, before pausing. “Vasera, step back.”

“Do you think I’ll step back because you asked?”

“No,” Jurot said. “I would prefer it if you did not step back so I may fight you.” Jurot, like Vasera, was open to fight, and would prefer it if they did come to blows. However, if one of the Thorns was glancing at a nearby guard, it meant there was something else going on here, and causing trouble in Bark Port, a town within East Aldland, which was so close to Floria, would only lead to difficulties for them.

“If you want to fight, let’s fight,” Vasera said, reaching for her blade once more. 

“Hey,” Adam said, his voice low. “It’s hot. I put on my armour like an idiot. I really want to take it off, but here I am, trying to settle you both down so I can get on the ship peacefully while sweating bullets. I really don’t like the heat, it makes me all itchy, and the stress of the past few days isn’t helping at all.”

Jurot could hear the reverberations in Adam’s voice. There was a pent up annoyance within it, something Adam had pushed down the past few days. There was also something else, an apprehension, one which had plagued Adam while they had travelled through Floria. However, they were no longer in Floria, but in East Aldland. East Aldland, to Adam, was very different to West, North, or Central Aldland.

“I’m so close to meeting with the Duchess, and if you’re going to fuck it up, at least do it once we’re finally in East Port! If you’re going to fight now…” Adam inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. He glanced over his shoulder to his companions. He motioned his head to the Iyrmen in his group, who so eagerly stepped forward, even Laygak and Jaygak who were not wearing their armour. “Sir Vonda, Dunes, if you notice things have gone too far, mind breaking up the fight?”

Jonn remained standing there awkwardly. He was meant to be Adam’s blade, but he was not told to step forward. He stood near Sir Vonda, as well as the demons, who remained silent, though Lucy’s eyes seemed longing at the approaching fight. Nobby also remained silent, standing awkwardly. Brittany let out a sigh, glad she was not expected to join the fray. 

As the Iyrmen of Fate’s Golden approached, a whistle blew from nearby, before a pair of guards approached, each wearing scale armour. Another group of distant guards marched towards them, a guard in full plate leading the group, the other four adorned in scale. 

As the guards approached, they noted the aura the Iyrmen were giving off. It was an aura of excitement, an aura of trouble. The groups remained still as the guards approached, the pair of guards upfront glancing between them awkwardly before their captain approached. 

“What is the meaning of this?” the captain snapped, taking off his helmet to reveal a young face. He was in his early twenties, his eyes a deep blue like the ocean, his hair white as salt, revealing his ancestry to those who were set to guard the docks of Bark Port. 

“Business,” Jurot said.

“What business is that, Iyrman?” the captain stated, glaring at the young Iyrman. 

Jurot remained silent for a long moment. There were two paths before him, paths which he could not take while in Floria. One path was that of business with the highest ranking noble of East Aldland. 

A thought entered Adam’s mind. He had called forth the Iyrmen only because he was sure they’d be eager to fight, and because they probably wouldn’t kill people if he asked. Sir Vonda watching over the situation could have smoothed over some issues, but the other reason he had called for the Iyrmen was because of a rule he had internalised. 

Jurot thought of the other path. It was a path which had been granted to him through the Iyr’s dealings with Aldland, that which had been granted by blood and steel. 

Any Iyrman who committed a crime within Aldland would be judged only by the Iyr.

‘Damn it.’ Adam was fairly certain murder was also included within the statement. 

Call a priest.

But not for me.

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