Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG
[1275] – Y06.175 – The Mountain of Gold II

“Oh my God!” Adam gasped.

The group had walked followed the stream, the greenery dominating the landscape, covering the sandstone, the dusky golds of the walls and buildings around, approaching the large temple which looked like a blade had pierced the ground. A nervousness slipped within Adam’s heart, for the hilt jutted out of the building quite some ways out high above them, providing many beneath with shade under the sun of the hours which bordered noon. The temple was made of hardy stone, painted white from base to pommel, but the hilt was made of tiles, hundreds of thousands of tiles, which only caused the half elf greater anxiety, imagining how much damage one could do if it fell. The pommel was a large dome, painted, almost entirely black, as though cursing the sun, though none would dare suggest that within this land.

However, Dunes had informed that the temple proper was indeed the large sword plunged into the earth, which seemed as though it could reach the heavens, but that the entire area around them, with all the lush flora, fauna, and the sandstone walls, was the temple complex. They had walked for roughly a quarter of an hour walking through towards the temple proper upon the winding path, the temple itself situated in the centre, but there were hundreds of buildings contained within, some small, barely able to hold one person comfortably, others so large they could allow hundreds of people to live comfortably, others hundreds, thousands, and some of the buildings, tens of thousands of people within. 

“You’re telling me this place is not the main temple of Lord Noor, but Lady Arya?” Adam asked, his mouth agape. 

“Green. Grey. Gold. Gods.” Dunes smiled, reaching out to squeeze the half elf’s shoulder. “Welcome to Aswadasad.”

“Dayu-,” Adam cut off the word, unsure if he should curse within the holy temple, especially with the heavy aura of divinity within the air. “Holy!”

“This is Saint Brandon’s Grand Temple of Lady Arya,” Dunes said, holding out a hand towards the large sword shaped temple. “This was the temple he had donated towards in order to form in his lifetime, and over the next centuries, the rest of the land came under its purview, and now, at noon, it holds tens of thousands of people.”

“Tens of thousands? Not a hundred thousand?”

“There are certain days when this temple is almost full to the brim, but usually, tens of thousands,” Dunes said, leading them forward towards the main temple. Another younger acolyte escorted them through the temple, her excitement filling the air. Adam noted there were a large number of women working within the temple, many of whom smiled and waved towards the group as they walked along the side of the river towards the sword shaped temple, where a large number of tables and chairs were set up, with a handful of figures who were tended to by the Priests. 

Adam spotted many other pathways leading away from the temple, further behind, before he was distracted by a figure standing from one of the many tables and rapidly sauntered her way towards the group. Adam figured, by the black vestments with the silver symbols, who she was. 

“Mo Dunes!” she exclaimed, the woman called. She had brown eyes, dark curly hair, that held hints of red under the sun, one side of her hair trimmed closer to the skin, and stood slightly taller than Dunes, but almost twice as wide. 

“Kal Anka!” Dunes replied, the pair clasping forearms, but Adam noted how Dunes almost crumpled immediately as she half dragged him into a half hug. 

“Where is Amira?”

“She is at the business.”

“She was always smarter than you,” Anka stated, giving Dunes a knowing look. “You aren’t headed to Black Mountain, are you?”

Dunes let out a small sigh, nodding his head, noting the look within Anka’s eyes, which revealed it was even worse than he expected. “I know.”

“You should wait until after ahm Isam agrees to assist us,” Anka said. 

“Ahm Isam?” Dunes asked, his eyes widening, darting past the young woman, where he spotted the figure. It was hard to tell if he had green scales, but he had horns at the least, and he was short, shorter than even his greatsword, meaning it had to be Isam. “What is he doing here?”

“He appeared recently and said he would assist if he was able to duel one of us to the death, otherwise we should know some shame in getting an old man like him to work,” Anka said, each word slightly more gruff than the last. “First Blade wished to come, but…”

Dunes nodded, understanding the gap between First Blade and Isam. “So who is to fight?”

“I volunteered.”

“You? Did you not marry recently too?” Dunes asked.

“I did, and I have a son, Barak. He is very handsome, and he does not cry, much, when I leave. He likes to read, to be read to, he cannot read yet, but he can recognise his name on a paper, and he is still only two!” The woman smiled brightly, without a hint of sadness or fear. 

Dunes frowned slightly, shaking his head. “When is the duel?”

“Tomorrow, in the morning.”

“Dawn?”

“It is a temple of the blade, not the sun!” the woman growled, crossing her arms in annoyance, before laughing, her entire body shifting with her laughter. 

“If you want, I can beat his ass,” called a figure, causing both Dunes and Anka to glance his way. “Excuse me, beat his bottom.”

“Adam, you-,” Dunes began, before he paused, for though Anka was certainly one of the strongest of his generation, and was likely to become a future Blade, he eyed up the half elf.

“You must be Adam,” Anka said, holding out a hand. “Kal Anka of Black Mountain.”

“Executive Adam, High Alchemist of the United Kindom, but you can just call me Adam,” Adam said, shaking her forearm. 

“You may call me Kal Anka,” the woman said. “Ka Anka, if you prefer speaking of my religious title.”

“Kal Anka, Ka Anka, it doesn’t matter to me, I just want to fight the guy,” Adam said. “Is he strong?”

“Yes,” Dunes replied.

“How strong?”

“When he disappeared sixty years ago, they called him a Paragon,” Dunes informed.

“Oh? Sounds like he has quite the story, huh?” Adam said, glancing back towards Jurot.

“Isam, son of Romoleaf.”

“Do we know anyone of the Leaf family?”

“No,” Jurot replied.

“Yes,” Kitool corrected. “We met Gordoleaf.”

“Who?” Adam asked, Jurot nodding his head as he recalled that they had indeed met Gordoleaf.

“Gordoleaf, who has issues with Karza,” Kitool stated.

“Ah,” Adam replied, but in that tone, and the half elf slowly leaned in. “Whose Karza?” 

“Prince Morakarai’s dragon friend.”

“Oh! The blue one, right?” Adam asked, nodding his head, recalling the pair. “Yeah, yeah, I remember now. So he’s Karza’s rival’s brother’s son?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that’s cool. You know, they say you’re always five degrees removed from knowing someone, or six, or something like that.”

Jurot furrowed his brows, pushing out the fact the half elf was trying to bring maths into it. 

“He really is insane,” Anka whispered.

“You’re about to find out,” Dunes whispered back, letting out a soft sigh. 

“You can’t be serious. He can’t beat Isam. It’s… Isam.”

“I’ll bet a gold.”

Anka furrowed her brows. “I do not think I should risk your friend’s life for a gold, Mo.”

“Little drake, are you going to make me wait here?” called a voice in the dragon’s tongue, causing the older half dragon to glare towards them. 

“You’re the little drake, aren’t you?” Isam replied back in their tongue, tilting his head slightly, letting out a snort of smoke. 

“Hey, Bael, don’t be showing such disrespect to your elders,” Adam said in the dragon’s tongue. 

“You said you were going to beat his ass.”

“Respectfully,” Adam added. 

‘Who is that brat?’ Isam thought, eyeing up the half elf who was speaking so rudely to the little lordling that was one of that bastard’s spawn?

“You have had too much fun.”

“Yeah, but, I need to beat up someone important for my daughter, Monarot,” Adam said. 

“She is my daughter,” Jurot said, only understanding that Adam spoke his daughter’s name, and he assumed.

“You don’t speak drakken!” Adam accused, but the guilty look upon his face confirmed all the Iyrman needed to know. “I can’t believe this guy, seriously.”

“Who are you?” Isam asked. 

“I’m Executive Adam, High Alchemist of the United Kindom, but you can just call me Adam,” Adam said. 

“You are not a lordling at least, but you are speaking to me with a great lack of respect,” Isam said, pointing a finger towards Tanagek. “Only that one can speak to me with such arrogance.”

“Yeah, but you’re about to kill a woman with a two year old son so you can laze about, which, I’m not against, you are well within your rights to retire in your old age, but if you lost all sense of shame, I’m going to have to beat it into you,” Adam stated casually, causing Anka, Uli, and the other acolytes nearby, including the Malawi who had approached, to stare at him in shock. 

“Draw your axe, you brat,” Isam grumbled, reaching for his blade. 

I said this arc was going to be slow, but now I just remembered which place across all of Aswadasad had the highest concentration of crazy monsters...