Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

26. Level 2

“Are you two okay?” Tazwyn asked as she approached the group. Her plate mail had been scuffed up, the sign of a good battle.

Adam glanced her way, giving her a thumbs up. “Pretty good.”

“Okay,” Jurot replied, finishing with his bandages. 

“How did it go?” Tazwyn glanced at their bandages and noted their general, dishevelled appearance. “Seems like it was hard fought.”

“It was fine,” Adam said. “A little touch and go at points, but it ended up fine.”

Tazwyn wasn’t used to his phrases, but from the tone of voice she could tell that it went well. “Good.”

“I went down,” Jurot said. “Adam healed me.”

“Watching an Iyrman’s back is hard work,” Tazwyn said, glancing towards Adam. It was a compliment, in a way. 

“Keeping up with him is much harder. If I had taken the blows he took, I would have been dead.” Adam shook his head. “Again, I mean.”

Tazwyn squinted at him, but slowly nodded her head. “Do you make it a habit of dying?”

“Not if I can help it.” Adam stretched out his neck. “How did it go on your end?”

“Well,” she replied, simply.

“As I expected.” Adam chuckled, shaking his head. 

“It seemed the one side where there was no foreign assistance fell first,” Tazwyn said. “It was expected, but I didn’t think you would be here before us.” She recalled the giant bestial skeleton she had fought, which had taken a little more effort than usual.

“I may be no Iyrman, but I am dependable.” Adam crossed his arms and pushed out his chest as Jurot would. 

Jurot crossed his arms and nodded his head, affirming his words.

“There they are,” Dargon called out, waving a hand. “I see you’re both still alive.”

Adam waved a hand in return. “Right back at you, Dargon. How’s Eshva?” 

“Sad,” Dargon said. “The enemy are all gone.” Dargon threw a grunt to Tazwyn, who grunted back. “Most of the horde was full of humanoids, so there should be no more major attacks.”

“No more major attacks? What about the other villages?” Adam asked. He was partly worried for the villages, and partly worried they’d turn back.

“The magic is drawn at different rates, so it may be that they have yet to face the undead, or that they have taken the full force of the undead hoard.”

“Will they become overwhelmed? It was quite rough, even with the assistance of so many Iyrmen and Magpie.”

“That won’t happen,” Tazwyn said, shaking her head. “Very few are killed during the attacks. If the undead do break through, the villagers can lead them through the traps they had lain.”

“Traps?”

Tazwyn motioned to the roofs of the buildings around them.

Perception
D20 + 2 = 13 (11)

Atop the roofs were various villagers, each holding small rocks or bundles of wood. Adam hadn’t seen them before, but considering how little damage had been done to the village, it made sense that they had some form of plan to deal with the undead who would inevitably manage to seep through the gates or climb over the walls.

“The zombies are the greater threats, so we focus on them. The skeletons are much easier to deal with, so they are let in.”

“These villagers sure have thought of everything,” Adam said, impressed. 

Everyone eventually returned to the centre of town, where the other Iyrmen had already sat down to rest. The villagers brought out some vegetables and meat, which the Iyrmen tore into like beasts. 

There were a few drinks bought as well, and the people began to play their drums and dance around the fire. Children were brought out of their homes, partaking in the festivities.

“You’re an elf,” a feminine voice called out from beside Adam.

Adam glanced back towards her to see a woman he had noted before, with a shortbow and two clubs. She had chestnut hair and dark eyes.

“Only half,” Adam said. He had brought his helmet up slightly to eat the food, but once she had spoken to him, murmurs filled the area. Seeing it was too late, he removed his helmet to reveal himself.

“Why are you here?” She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, clenching her fist around her bow. 

“I’m making my way to the Iyr,” Adam said. “There was coincidentally a quest on the way to help the nearby villages.”

“Didn’t your people kill everyone in the nearby town?”

“I,” Adam emphasised, “came to kill a bunch of undead in your village, yes.” Adam raised his brows. 

“I meant when I was a little girl. I heard your people killed those people in Rock Hill. I had a few cousins there. They’re dead.”

“If you can name one,” Adam raised a finger, “just one, of my family members who was part of it, I’ll give you ten gold.”

“You’re an elf, though. They say your people are all evil and vicious. That you took all those people as slaves.”

“First of all, I’m a half elf. Secondly, I’m from very far away. Not every elf participated in that massacre.” Adam shook his head, thinking about how many people have talked to him about it.

The woman continued to glare at him for a moment, and nodded her head slowly. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam said, dismissively. Then he glanced her way, furrowing his brows. “Excuse me?”

She stepped away, sitting down to eat by her lonesome. Adam wasn’t sure what had just happened, but having recalled her gratitude, he smiled. The food of gratitude tasted so much sweeter than normal food.

Most people ignored Adam, with a few villagers throwing suspicious glances, but no one made any overtly hostile moves towards him throughout the evening.

Adam retired early, laying back against the bed. “Hey, Bell? You there?”

[Yes.]

“I’ve got some of that sweet, sweet XP.”

[Do you wish to level up?]

“Yeah!” Adam shouted, perhaps a little too loudly. ‘What are my options?’

A screen popped up in front of the half elf.

Magic Upgrade: 1000XP
+1 Mana
+2 Spells
+Omen
Martial Upgrade: 1000XP
+Onward Soar

‘Well, I feel like one of these things is better than the other. No, no. I can’t say that. Onward Soar is pretty good too. Though…’

Level up!
XP (1060) -> XP (60)
Health (13) -> Health (26)
Mana (2) -> Mana (3)
Gained two spells!
Gained Omen!

The Omen feature and the increase of spells and Mana was just too good to pass up. However, he also felt far more comfortable knowing that he had double his Health. He could now fight without worrying too much about dying in a single blow. Even a critical hit wouldn’t outright kill him, not unless it was from something truly powerful.

Adam sighed as the great strength filled him. 

“Is something wrong?” Jurot asked as he stepped in. He had heard the shout not long ago.

“No,” Adam replied, smiling.

‘Suspicious.’

Adam closed his eyes, falling fast asleep. 

Omen
3, 4

When he awoke in the morning, Jurot was swinging his axe wildly outside. He seemed far livelier than normal, though his mind was focused on something.

Jurot continued to hack away into the air, practising his family’s technique. ‘Stronger,’ the Iyrman thought. ‘I need to be stronger.’ He had been plagued by the fact he had dropped during the battle.

Adam cracked his neck. “Hehe.” He snickered beside Jurot.

“What?” Jurot asked, stopping his practise.

“Don’t you notice anything different about me?” Adam asked, casually. 

“No.”

“I…” Adam crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, “am stronger.”

‘Stronger than me? No, that’s not what he’s saying. He is different today. He has grown stronger after the battle?’ Jurot nodded his head. “I am stronger too.”

Adam grinned wide. “Nice!” He raised his fist out to Jurot, waiting expectantly.

The Iyrman stared at the fist, furrowing his brows.

“Go on, touch,”

Jurot reached out with his hand, wrapping his fingers around the fist like he was grabbing an apple. 

“No, not like that. Touch, with your fist.” Adam shook his head, chuckling lightly.

Jurot clenched his fist, gently touching their fists together. “What does it mean?”

“It’s something like a handshake? It can be used to greet people, or to congratulate your friend.”

“Take me with you,” came a familiarly feminine voice from behind them.

They turned to see the young woman from the day before. She wore thick clothing today, and carried a pack with her. There were two clubs at her side, a spear in hand, and she carried a shortbow. There was a quiver peeking out from behind her, full of arrows.

“What?” Adam blinked.

“I want to leave the village.” The woman stared up at Adam.

Adam exchanged a look with Jurot. “Why do you want to join us?”

“I don’t want to join both of you, I want to join you,” she said, looking into Adam’s eyes.

“Me?” Adam blinked. “What? Why? Why me?” Adam flushes slightly. ‘Does she have a crush on me? She seems about my age, and she’s pretty cute too.’

“You’re strange.”

“Yes?” Adam felt an arrow pierce his heart, causing him to take some emotional damage.

“I want to be strange too.” Her eyes remained focused and serious as they stared into Adam’s eyes.

Adam blinked and shook his head, wondering if there was something in his ears. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve lived here my entire life. All I know is the walls of this village. The same thousand faces. The same rain. The same wind. The same snow. I want to leave, and I know I won’t be able to get this chance again.”

Adam stared down at her, glancing between her attire and her items. She apparently knew how to use a bow, but he hadn’t seen her use it.

“No,” Adam finally said.

“Why not?” She grit her teeth, and clenched her fist harder around the spear.

“I,” Adam began, wondering what kind of excuse he should make, “don’t want to.”

“You!” She stared up at him in surprise. ‘You won’t even tell me why?’ She blinked a few times. “I… I’ll do whatever you need me to! I’ll carry your things! I’ll, I’ll…”

“You can draw a bow just fine, I assume, but carrying things requires a very different type of strength. You don’t seem to be the type with a porterly build, not like Nobby.” Adam threw a quick glance to Jurot.

“Just give me a chance! I don’t want to stay here my entire life! I want to go out, to explore! I want to see things I’ll never get to see in this small town! I want to see dragons! I want to see the Iyr! I want to see the Dragonlands up north!”

Hearing her words did cause Adam to soften slightly. She was stuck in this small village. From what he had seen, it wasn’t like she got along with the others. She had been sitting and eating alone, and whenever he saw her, she was always alone. 

Alone.

‘Well, she was the only person to thank me.’ He wondered if perhaps she had done so because she wanted to leave?

Adam reached up and rub his helmet. “Wait a second.” Adam walked about thirty steps away, before turning around on his heel. He donned his shield and raised it. “Shoot me.”

“What?” The young woman blinked at him.

“You said you’d do whatever you need to, right? Shoot me.” Adam stood firm behind his shield. 

The young, dark haired woman wasn’t sure what he was doing, but she dropped her pack and spear, and grabbed her bow. She shot the arrow, which clattered off the floor under him. “I’m not warmed up!”

“No,” Adam said. “You’re dead.”

“What?”

“You missed your only shot, and now you’re dead. Do you think things in the forest will just wait for you to warm up? We’re not going on no picnic.” Adam stared at her. 

“…” She bit her lower lip, and this time she drew her bow again. She inhaled deeply and shot again, the arrow barely glancing off the side of the shield.

“Dead again,” Adam said, shaking his head.

She grit her teeth again before knocking another arrow and shooting quickly, the arrow singing through the air. 

Health: 26 -> 20

The arrow slid off the top of the shield, and Adam tilted his head as the arrow struck the side of his helmet, barely missing his eyes. 

The villagers gasped.

The woman blinked, staring up at Adam. ‘Is that good or bad?’ She wasn’t sure, as she technically almost blinded her benefactor, and the person who would grant her freedom.

Adam put his shield aside and looked at the young woman. “Follow me,” he said, turning and walking off into the forest. 

The young woman quickly followed after, and the villagers glanced between one another. Jurot followed too, wondering what Adam would do. The villagers quickly followed after the Iyrman, confident that they could ask the Iyrman for assistance, just in case something were to happen.

Adam glanced around, finding a rock set into the earth some ways away from the village. He looked all around and found a tree some twenty steps away, and walked over to it. Adam grabbed his javelin with both hands and struck the bark off the tree diagonally, before doing so again but in the opposite way, making a cross.

“You’re going to practise every single day,” Adam said, admiring his handiwork. “Once you’re done with this tree, mark another, and practise some more. One hundred shots a day.”

“What?” The young woman stared up at him, confused.

“One day, I’ll return. It might be in a week. It might be in a month. It might be in a year. One day, I’ll take you away from here.” He turned to look at her. “But today is not that day.”

“You… you won’t take me?” Her shoulders fell down.

“Not today.”

“You’re… you’re just saying that.” Tears began to form in her eyes. “You won’t come back.”

“I will, as long as I am alive. If I die, then blame our bad luck.” The half elf chuckled lightly. “However, I assure you, I will come back one day if I am alive. Shoot a hundred shots every single day, and don’t miss a day, not unless there’s actual danger.”

“You… will you really come back?” She stared up at him, still with teary eyes. 

“Yes,” Adam said, unsure of whether he could say no to such pretty eyes. ‘Don’t simp, Adam.’

“How can I believe you?”

He glanced to Jurot. “What say you, Jurot? Should we take her?”

“She’s too weak.” Jurot shook his head. If she had been training her entire life, and if she had been better with a bow, perhaps. However, as she was, she was just dead weight.

“Then we’ll come back to see if she’s gotten any good. What do you think?”

“Okay,” Jurot said.

The villagers exchanged looks between one another. Jurot, an Iyrman, had spoken.

“You might not believe my word, but what about the word of an Iyrman?” Adam asked.

“Okay…” 

“Practise. If you’re no good by the time we return, we won’t take you. If you’re barely good enough, I’ll take you and train you. You’re no Nobby, but you aren’t terrible.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Brittany.”

Adam almost snorted with laughter.

“What?”

“Another Brit, huh?” Adam chuckled.

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Another Brit? Pog!

Also the poll is in reference to chapters 24 and 25 in their formatting.

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