Mortality Chapter 10

I could be a merchant! ...Or something like it.

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10. White on black

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          Kire had experimented with organic materials and found he was able to create simple things with a spark of life. Namely saplings, which he then provoked to greater height and fullness under cover of darkness to give a privacy screen to the property so he could work relatively unobserved. He also tore down the existing worn out fence in the day and replaced it in the middle of the night when no one would see. The denizens of Thornwick were baffled at how things just seemed to appear around the property but Kire's indirect boasts about his skills as an artificer and giving just-convincing-enough implications about when and how he was importing the materials kept him just barely under the radar though it got him a reputation and the odd requests for crafting. He insisted he was not open for commission until the house was done, still spending his nights at the Iron Flagon but having a locked shed on his lot for storing his tools and inventions while most of his crafting energy went into the home over the course of two weeks.

          He had no true reign over external elements but he had been able to force the ground aside by asserting a concrete foundation that burned through the soil, integrating the natural material to offset his energy expenditure in manifesting something new. Deep enough to make a full basement and a sub-level for where the garage would be he lays out utility rooms, a water reservoir, pressure pumps for intake to the house and sump pumps to divert excess water downstream when the water levels rose. The foundation stood tall enough that his home would be safe in the spring melt and he rubberized the exterior of it, sheathing it in permanent layers to prevent water intrusion except through the insulated underground pipes tapping to and from the river. Load bearing walls were sectioned up in brick and heavy lumber beams became the floor's skeleton. Every day and long into every night he worked, great logs forming walls on the main floor like an elegant northern cottage with a high peaked ceiling and a fifty foot by twenty foot workshop running much the length of the lot off its side. The ebb and flow of his creation energy pushed to its fullest day after day had him feeling stronger and stronger as he laid the utility infrastructure for forced air, running water and wires connecting glowstone fixtures to switches and pipes to pump, water heater and faucets.
          Things like the heating stones from the bath house were a simple enchantment as was reversing them for cold but the application of these enchantments into functional replicas of modern appliances like his boiler, oven and refrigerator would have been no less than astounding to any native Misterran. Getting impatient with his progress once he had all the framing done he attempts to finish and seal the home in one go. Standing just inside the doorway he claps his open palms together, closing his eyes and pushing in his chest as he had the first time he made something.

          Fine cuts of hardwood interlocked in a wave across the floors forming an immaculately engineered herringbone pattern. The walls, starting from the basement, insulated and plastered themselves over the utilities and ducts, flush around the protruding fixtures to a smooth finish. The open concept kitchen area and both bathrooms tiled themselves in sheets of marble or polished granite and a great stone fireplace was placed rock by rock as if by hand while mortar poured from aether, extending its chimney to the roof and through it. Hinges beget doors while a patio extends off the back of the house towards the edge of the river. The last thing he sees inside the mind-forge is the glass sliding back door of the master bedroom before he feels a thump and blacks out.

--

          He'd pushed himself too far again and he awakes to a red dusk beyond the skylight. The thump he'd felt was himself hitting the floor and there was a small, crusted pool of blood on the ground around his face where his nose had been bleeding. The stain down his chin when he checks the mirror suggests it had started before he landed but he did get a good bruise on his cheek from the drop.
          System greeted his return to wakefulness sounding urgent and angry. *You really, really need to not do that anymore. I have warned you about the limits of your power, and your body may not warn you like this again.*
          Kire wobbled away from the mirror and slid down a wall to settle back on the floor. It had gotten chilly with nothing running and the turn of the season dropping evening temperatures more by the day. He felt wretched and knew that he had pushed his luck for the last time. "No more of that, I promise." Taking his time to recuperate before bracing himself on the wall to stand back up he waddled down the stairs to the basement taking his glowstone lantern to the utility room. He switches on the water main valve but thinks twice about activating anything else in case he needed to respond to a problem with his power which had burnt out of reach of the time being. He allows himself a tour of the basement which was still unfurnished and lacking bathroom appliances but otherwise complete. While inspecting the upstairs in the failing sunlight he washes his face at the kitchen sink with the freezing cold river water. Once satisfied with everything he locks the door and goes back to the Iron Flagon for his final night there as a tenant.

          He orders the biggest meal he can with appetizers and dessert. He tried to drink to celebrate with the locals over the completion of his home but couldn't manage more than one with his body still gnarled by the magical fallout he'd inflicted on himself. That night is among the deepest sleeps he has had in years and come the morning he packs whatever he had not moved already, wearing his wash basin roped to his back like a turtle shell and fully migrating to his new place insisting Halgrim keep the change from the advance payment and promising to come back to eat there often.
          He'd levelled up again over the course of the house's construction but he was still shaken enough about the night before that he only did enough to fully switch on all the utilities and appliances to prepare the place for living minus furniture. He stretches his legs suddenly feeling like he had not seen anything but the work site for an entire age and decides a quest would be just what he needs to reset himself.

          His return to the guild hall for the first time in half a month excited him like it was the first day of school. Arune beckoned wildly to get his attention en route to the quest board and the Orc asked the next person in line to wait a moment so he could talk to Kire about something first. "Long time no see...So hey, as much as I think you're ridiculous, I have to admit you get things done and I know how you have it out for the criminal elements infesting the area."
          Kire stared uncertainly. This was definitely a reversal of the norm. "Okay? Missed you too, buddy."
          Arune slid closer and beckoned Kire to lean in. "A new job is being filed as we speak. Big one. Remember that relic job you did for the Hermit followers by Oxgrove?" he whispered. Kire nodded slowly.
          "Well last night there was a theft from the local temple. The big one at the main square. Quiet in and out job, witnesses barely caught the perpetrator fleeing the scene to give chase. Where the story gets interesting is that the thief met with some co-conspirators at the edge of town to pass off what they stole and they scattered to confuse pursuit. One of those rogues was seen wearing a scarf that marks a well known and dangerous gang from the north, and the relic they stole was a sacred talisman of the God-Snake, the Eye of the Serpent."
          Kire had a lurching sensation hearing that another relic named for a god's eye was being targeted which could clearly not be accident or coincidence. "Why are you telling me this way? Isn't this a breach of protocol?"

          Arune tried to play it cool backing up a bit to not look so suspicious to anyone else in the hall who might wonder what he was gossiping about. "This relic isn't like the last. It has definite power and is highly valuable. Unlike at the Hermit temple this is a much more populated town and the relic was under guard. Now it's likely in the hands of thieves and thugs believed to work with a rogue mage. It's a potentially pretty dangerous situation and I thought you'd like to know the post was coming before you run off on some other nonsense errand to seduce goblins or slay wind mills. The town Elders are the ones filing the job in the commissioner's office as we speak and it's expected to be four star difficulty. You might actually be one of the most qualified around here to handle it despite your... eccentricities."
          Kire put his hands over his heart. "Awwww so you DO want to be my best friend!"
          Arune says no more about it and shoos him off to handle the next contractor leaving Kire to waft about watching for the post. Sure enough just ten minutes later the door to the commissioner's office opens with Elder Keldarr who Kire had met through the house purchase and another Elder he did not know emerging along with a runner who strides to the quest board to pin a document towards the higher difficulty side where Kire realized for the first time how much the jobs tended to pile up there with a shortage of high level locals to handle them. He takes the job number to Misenna and Arune gives him a grateful, knowing nod.

          Reviewing different reports and job postings for anything that could give a lead the evidence suggests the majority of activity leading southwest to an area of the nameless woods at the foot of the Ironspikes a little more than a day's march away from town. If he camped near a farm off the southern road for the night he could be at the woods' border the next morning and with the job ticket packed he sets off immediately. He doesn't try to get on a carriage for this trip regarding it as a good opportunity for exercise to hike under load but he does make sure he is especially well equipped and stopped by the house for the extra gear he'd been making in the time since his last job given what he'd seen in Bandit's Hollow.
          The thief who'd stood out to witnesses bore a small white scarf associated with a brutal gang from up north known called The Harrowers. The white scarf as a calling sign made him wonder if the rumoured rogue mage was the one he'd seen in the scried execution and if that meant the Minotaur could be among the hazards. Loaded up a little more than he would have preferred for that contingency he nonetheless powered down the road under load motivated by the need to be strong.

--

          The night had been cold and full of howling in the distance and half the night was spent in a state of forced rest to emulate sleep rather than really achieving it. He sprang up at first light for a mild warm up workout to calm his nerves for whatever awaited in the woods. The possibility of not just murderers and thieves but the tangible threat of terrible monsters, wicked spirits and wizards loomed within his morbid imagination but he meant what he'd once said to System about trying to do right for the people of this land and just as the rising sun broke into the threshold of the treeline so too did a singular proud member of the Adventurer's Guild. He places his hand on one of the trees and takes a deep breath of the scents carried on the morning autumnal breeze. The sunlight danced and dappled on the forest floor beneath a canopy that had started its change in colour. "Fear not revealing your secrets to me, O lovely forest. I shall expunge your bandit problem. Imma expunge it so good."

          He had spent a lot of time around the wooded creeks of his hometown as a kid with nowhere better for he and his friends to hang out. He had always been agile and sure of foot in such terrain and his movement, buoyed by a song in his heart that had begun when he touched the tree and was touched by the wind had him bounding over rock and root as if he was weightless despite the well-burdened rucksack. It was one of his favourite environments and the doorstep of his favourite season; This would have made for an excellent recreational getaway if he wasn't so sure of the violence waiting in its depths.
          He stops abruptly. Though by no means a proper tracker his eyes told him there was something amiss about how the vegetation rested around a diverging path. He'd been following an unworn trail as suggested by the trees where he thought it was most likely for people to move on instinct and now it paid off with some evidence that there had been indeed been a presence and here they had diverted course. He removes his rucksack and takes several paces back to hide it under a large fern behind a tree opposite of where he was about to inspect. He checked carefully into the disturbed plants for traps having heard that The Harrowed were fond of ambushes. He doesn't see a trap but his intuition nonetheless prickles that danger was close by.

          He tucks his hands into his pockets and takes on a casual gait, stepping into the partially concealed side path whistling tunelessly. "Boy it sure is a beautiful day to be walking ALLL ALONE in the woods. Just a helpless, dainty virgin out enjoying the scenery."
          Not far down the path the feeling of eyes bore down on him. Several pairs, he guessed, and none of them System's. An Orc wearing furs with a great war hammer slung over his shoulders strolled out from behind a tree ahead of Kire joined by several Humans and Goblins armed with axes, daggers, short bows and bloodthirst.
          Kire planted his hands on his hips with a dramatic show of indignation."Wow. WOW. Can't nobody just go for a peaceful walk through the woods these days. I was totally just about to whip it out for a pee. Ya'll could have gotten a peek if you didn't blow your wad so quickly."
          The Orc shoulder pressed the hammer over their head to rest it in a ready position before them. "We already know you're alone. No need to act so brave before death. It's just natural to be scared." He looks to either side at his assembled hands. "Skin the wannabe hero."

          Kire's confidence was in no small part supported by his experience against Biggus Piggus in the Eldergrove, among other victories made mostly only possible by leveraging the terrain. The trees here were not as massive as in the Eldergrove but they were closer together and the enemy's superior numbers may as well have just been for show once he skipped to the side between the trees forcing their collective charge to scatter and filter themselves through the timber passages and uneven ground.
          The Harrowed lose sight of their quarry but follow in the direction he'd leapt. Suddenly a burst of bright orange swings out from behind a tree and hacks one of the Goblins nearly in half with one great sweep of a club-like blade then just as quickly disappears behind the next tree. "Who you calling a wannabe you big green pug?!" he taunted from beyond view.
          One of the Humans dives after him and getting eyes on the prey lunges forward with their sword! To their shock the intruder allows their strike to land and the sword thunks ineffectively into the chainmail concealed under the tunic with his enemy giving a sharp exhale to negate the force of the strike.
          Kire wraps the thug's sword arm with his own and passes his sword to his right hand leaving them defenceless to a decapitating counter strike. He catches their sword in his left hand as it drops leaving their body to fall and throwing the sword at the Orc who had just leapt into sight. "Neener neener booboo!" he taunts and skips backwards before another of the rogues could flank him. Sheathing this sword he jams his hands into a pair of climbing claws on his belt and unhooks them to scrabble up the side of a tree the next time he was out of view. Settling on a great branch his stealth is strictly a matter of his foes being too focused on the ground but he reveals his position with a courtesy dagger thrown into the back of the other Goblin's neck killing them instantly. Before the bowmen can turn on him he runs and jumps to the next tree with arrows clipping through the leaves behind him.

          "I WANT HIS SKULL! SHOOT HIM DOWN, CLIMB UP AFTER HIM, DO WHATEVER IT TAKES!" The Orc was absolutely livid now at the mockery as Kire swung from a thick branch making monkey noises, miming pooping into his hand with a rude noise and throwing it at them. Blinded by fury the Orc starts to climb up the tree himself slamming the back spike of his war hammer into the trunk like a climbing pick to help pull himself up. Kire had to slither over a parting in the trunk to get on the other side of it to avoid another set of arrows but he was recovered in time for the Orc's head to rise to his level. The leader of the ambush party grabbed for Kire's leg but Kire grabbed the branch above himself in turn for stability and launched the heel of his free leg as hard as he could into the Orc's face. Their grip slacked and they folded backwards letting go of both Kire and their weapon on an earthbound course.
          A sword plunged at him from the split in branches where he had climbed through to dodge arrows and where now another of the ambushers who had climbed the tree from the other side struck out. Although barely managing to duck and bend out of the blow's path in time he was able to grab their arm and bend it down towards himself, hyper extending it over the tree's trunk forcing them to release their weapon to tumble down his back and out of the tree with a scream. Standing back up Kire lets go of their arm and punches them in the face which sends them keeling over to fall backwards out of the tree in turn. One of the archers comes around to draw a bead and like he did with the boar's charge he times his reaction through enhanced senses, stepping back to casually drop off the branch for the arrow to pass where he'd just been standing and grabbing the branch as it passed by to hang from it by the climbing claws on his palms. "I have to say ya'lls strategy seems to really suck but hey, don't let me tell you how to do your job." He could see that the archer ahead of him only had one arrow left but a prickling at the back of his neck told him to drop and he yanks his hands out of the bark giving himself back to gravity just in time for another arrow from the second archer who'd come around the other way to again graze where he'd just been.

          Landing in a roll Kire runs straight at the archer who had been in front of him while they try to reload and grabs them by the sides of the head, throwing his weight down to force them into a bent over position and kneeing them in the face. Feeling danger again he spins them around to switch positions and an arrow protrudes from the chest of his new human shield fired by their ally and the last threat he can see. "How's your ammo?!" Kire calls over the shoulder of the dying man whose weight he now had to support. The last archer tossed his bow, drawing a knife with trembling hands. "Yeah that's what I thought."

--

          Those he hadn't struck down had succumbed to falling injuries and even the last man despite looking desperate and afraid had charged to fight to the bitter end. The life or death fervour reinforced Kire's belief that the gang had been closely involved in the schemes affecting the region but there wasn't much he could do with asking the dead so after checking the bodies to make sure they were not in possession of the artifact and retrieving his things he helps himself onwards down the path they had been guarding.
          He is more cautious with his steps now not trying to draw attention a second time and when the faintest notes of voices first catch his ears he slides off into the brush to slink and stalk in their direction. This detour takes him up an incline and onto a stony protrusion from the earth whereas the path he'd been on went low and winding to its front where he would have had his next encounter had he followed it. From his perch he can hear the voices more clearly. They spake of their losses in manpower and their loss of the artifact.
          (Losses in manpower? They can't know about my involvement already, nobody would have kept a lid on seeing that.)
          *Listen, child, and be still.* System scolded.
          Puffing his cheeks with the desire to talk back but needing to focus he follows the conversation below and learns the actual party leader is among the voices there. All three are on the brink of panicking however after losing the artifact to some other attack and they were not at ease waiting for the team Kire had encountered to spring some trap and recover it.

          Two of the voices are told to fall back to some codenamed check point to report to leadership about the mission's progress and reassure them the treasure will be in hand soon. Footsteps sprint away and Kire is ready to tempt fate peeking over the edge. He realises he is laid upon a cave entrance though the enemy leader has turned to follow the path Kire would have come in on further along into the brush. The sounds of the birds, bugs and swaying leaves are joined by the sound of a stream in a small grotto where the last possible source of information on the artifacts current whereabouts stops and kneels to splash their face and refill their waterskin, taking a long drink and refilling it again. He did not know he had been stalked and does not hear the foot steps on the soft thick moss carpeting the area. He froze when a deep voice interrupted the peaceful choir of nature.
          "Phew! Did you catch all that commotion just down the way? Just ridiculous I tell you-A man can't take ten steps around here without tripping over a bunch of corpses."
          He reached for the dagger on his belt but one found gentle rest on his shoulder first, a blade long enough to see out the corner of his eye without turning his head and he froze again. "Who are you and what did you do to my men? Are you with the Orcs?"
          Kire carefully lifted his dagger and took a step back. "Hm? Orcs? Was the big guy with the hammer not one of yours?"
          Slowly turning on his knees with his hand still hovering over his dagger's sheath Alistair doesn't look directly at the man accosting him but sweeps the surroundings for signs of any backup they must have waiting in the wings before finally sizing up the world's worst dressed Ninja. There was a tear across his chest but there did not seem to be a wound there and the way all the blood was splattered on him it was clearly none his own. "I ask you again, who are you and what did you do to my men?"

          Kire shrugged, looking around making an oblivious face and crossing his arms. "I'm the one who has you by the balls right now and I think whatever happened to your men is pretty secondary to the question of what happened to the relic."
          Alistair wasn't taking the bait and could tell by the man's grip on his knife and underlying tension that they weren't as careless as they were letting on. He seethed, baring his teeth with frustration and sizing Kire up again weighing his chances. "The relic was taken from us. There is an Orc fort in these woods and they took offence to our passage. We skirmished, and they claimed the relic along with half my troop." He realized as he said it what a bad position he was in and moved his hand away from his dagger. For all he knew he was the last one of his gang in this forest and his mission was already a total failure beyond recovery.

          The one holding him up turned and paced as casually as if they were there just to admire the sunbeams between the trees on a Sunday stroll. "This Orc fort, is it close?"
          Alistair slowly started to rise testing how far he could get with his hand creeping back towards his dagger as predatory hate and desperation grappled him.
          The stranger's back was turned to him now and they seemed to be staring off into the gently swaying branches lowering their hands and dipping one in a cargo pocket on their leg. "If you're wondering where my back up is I don't have any. It's just me."
          He frantically looked around for any confirmation if it was true but even if it was...Something seemed too dangerous about trying to act right now. Why were they alone in these woods caught between the territorial Orcs and The Harrowers? He was startled out of the thought when the stranger half turned and withdrew their hand from their pocket to throw something to the air. Seven plain white scarves, short light and silky fluttered as they unscrunched from their stowage to scatter on the ground with most of them soaked in varying quantities of still-drying blood.
          "Throw your knife in the stream and lead me to this Orc fort." the stranger said firmly without even turning their head to look at him.
          Without realizing it or willing himself to do it Alistair felt his hand pull his knife from its sheath and throw it aside to splash into the stream. "You still haven't told me who you are."
          The stranger finally turns and their stare is as vacant and distant as if they were still gazing off into the trees. "They call me Kire."

          Against his better judgment Alistair led the adventurer of ill repute to the proximity of the Orc fort. "How do you know I'm not leading you into another trap?"
          "With how bad your first trap sucked I couldn't care if you did. Besides if you try anything funny I'll scream like a little girl and alert the whole forest."
          Alistair spun on his heel feeling angrier by the minute at the feeling he was being played with. "Is this a joke to you?! Do you even understand where you are or the forces you're messing with? You're trying to be funny?"
          Kire stopped in tandem and narrowed his eyes. "I do think I'm pretty funny but I came here for the relic, not some janky jungle stunts. You behave and I'll behave. Simple as."
          "And what's your plan to retrieve it huh? Doesn't matter how good you think you are throwing around trophies from my comrades, there's at least thirty warriors in that fort! You don't stand a chance."
          "Oh don't worry your tender heart about it I'm not fool enough to challenge a whole band of warriors in their home to a flat out brawl," Kire grins obnoxiously. "But have you ever considered talking it out with the power of friendship?"
          Alistair seethed, his pale and gaunt face taut with frustration. "Talk it out? With Orcs?" he'd almost spat at the word. "No. The only thing they know is violence. It'll be a fight."
          (That must be the prejudice Arune was expecting.) Kire beckoned for the gangster to turn around and keep walking. "Well with a shitty attitude like that I'm sure it would be but I'm thinking that's a you problem. I tried talking at your men first too and they were the ones all gung-ho to take my skin and look how that worked out. Talked to you too, didn't I? I'm just here for the relic, personally I don't NEED to fight a damn soul."
          Alistair gritted his teeth at the remark about his comrades and the disdain oozed from every pore but Kire kept on while they walked.
          "What did the Orcs want with the relic anyway? Not like they cared enough to come steal it in the first place."
          "I'm certain they don't know or care what it is. Just a shiny prize from the battle to mount on a wall or sell to the highest bidder."

          Finally a sliver of the palisade walls are visible in the distance between the trees and Alistair stopped, unwilling to get any closer. "There, I've shown you the way. Will you spare my life and let me go?"
          Kire waved him off. "Yeah I'm certain that's as much use as you're going to be. From what I've seen about how your people do things though you might want to flee the country after failing your mission so bad."
          Alistair turns to run but pauses just long enough for a final warning. "You won't fare any better. You'll see. Blood is the only language they speak!" and with that he dashed off to put as much distance as he could between himself and all the threats he had encountered since coming to these lands.

--

          As with the Goblins Kire was more interested in diplomacy than a siege and he wondered to himself about what a sick breed the syndicate were that they alone were so firmly invested in killing and being killed. Where Orcs were concerned he had Arune as his only real model and in his research he knew that although they were among the 'civilized' races they were the most fringe among them with a lower visible population in most cities. He hadn't had time to dig into it for more details but something about a big war in the distant past that left Orcs with a bad reputation and facing a lot of hate or distrust. Most of them found it easier to gather in clans tied together by families or historical alliances than to integrate in urban areas which left the brunt of their interactions with the other races as terse and standoffish...Except when it was for business but with the primary business Orcs were sought out for being mercenary and guard work this had a way of perpetuating the stereotypes about the clans when their main export was necessarily their sword arms.
          The thug he'd prodded along for the tour was so close to getting the point when he suggested the Orcs would try to sell the relic.
          *Not your worst plan I suppose except for it hinging on your dreadfully poor acting.*

          Kire pulled his grooming kit out of his bag to wash his face and tidy up. Removing the bloodied tunic he creates a new costume consisting of a vest in a shining dark blue satin with baroque patterning and a purple doublet that held yellow accents in its slashed shoulders. He drapes his hair off to one side and dons a feathered cap, wraps a colourful tartan around his waist to cover his utilitarian pants and stitches small bells into it in an even grid. Mirror check: The style he had tried going for was jovial merchant but it bordered on Landsknecht. Perhaps Siddithi was too strong an inspiration?
          *You aren't beating the insane allegations.*
          (I don't need to. A tactical merchant would raise too many red flags.)
          He made a second bag in dyed leather about the same size as his rucksack but without all the modifications he had made in his time owning it. He loads it with just enough of his camping gear to make sense on a cursory inspection and then it's on to the wares.

          The Orc's chief deity was Grelan, the God of triumphant feasts and prowess. Recalling pictures from the library he starts shaping a ten inch figurine in Grelan's likeness choosing to form it from Jade. (A familiar face in an exotic material. That should interest them. How's it look?)
          *You'll find out if you botched it when they put you on a spit.* System was back to their usual unhelpful self today.
          Having so little experience with the liquors of this world he thinks back to his experiences in his own and decides on an Irish spiced honey Whiskey he had adored and mind-forges a classy ceramic vessel for the beverage giving it a fake logo for an exotic, faraway distillery.
          Next a longsword with a straight edge on one side and a half-serrated edge on the other. The blade is imbued with a shiny chromatic blue sheen-a simple matter of chemistry in his world he hoped a shocking and rare visual in this one. The hilt and pommel are stamped with elaborate filigree and the facsimile of a noble crest.

          Cooking up a few other wares like silk sheets, a mechanical time piece similar to his own, and other small trinkets he starts wrapping the goods in linens and bundling them up to make his debut. Stripped down to a coin roll and a water flask on his hip he loops around the perimeter until he finds an appropriate angle to approach from. (You know you didn't say anything about that whole fight earlier.)
          *Is your head not airy enough that it needs more inflating?*
          Kire's kilt chimed as he stepped, bouncing lightly over the mossy terrain.
          (Not fishing for compliments but I mean...That was a lot, right?)
          *Don't get distracted. You're in range of their sentinels now.*
          "Halt!" cried a dark figure from a covered watchtower. The fort was bigger than he'd expected now that he was up close and though there might be thirty warriors inside there was definitely room for a much higher number of Orcs. "Who dares tread here?!"
          Kire outstretched his arms and bowed deeply. "I am known to these parts as Kire and I come to you for trade!" He lifts his head to try and gauge the reception before rising but discerns nothing from the silhouette. The gate starts to creak open and he rises to five Orcs marching out to greet him...He hoped it was to greet, anyway.
          "I am Jericho, master of clan Tull!" unlike Arune the booming Orc and his cohort were ornately tattooed over much of their visible skin. The strong and confident master of the fort carried himself with the air of firm leadership having come to inspect the traveller face to face and Kire bowed again in an overabundance of caution for manners.
          "It is my supreme pleasure to meet the master of clan Tull, then. If you think my presence here strange know that I sought you out purposefully in commerce having recently learned of your home here and hoping I may have something to interest you in trade."
          The Orcs studied him hard with two of them walking around and behind him taking detailed notes with their eyes. They speak almost in perfect unison. "A warrior merchant? A suspect case you plead."
          (Damn. Was it the boots or a missed blood stain?)

          The synchronization was eerie enough but the pair didn't even looking related. He gently holds his arms out to his sides with his hands upturned ensuring they found no challenge in his presence. "Anyone should know how to handle themselves in an emergency. Even these trees have harboured recent rumours of Marauding parties."
          The first two who had studied him resumed their places beside the chieftain and the second pair took their turn for a lap around Kire. They, too, spoke in alarmingly perfect sync: "An assassin most likely. How should you defend yourself from The Harrowers with no weapons?"
          Kire looked one in the eyes and down at his hand. "If I may?" His gloves left behind he carefully raises the hand he'd used to punch an assailant out of a tree earlier to show his bruised knuckles. "I do normally carry a sidearm as well but I set it aside for this parlay."
          They both stopped. Long deep gazing from two angles made it awkward for Kire to know where to look and he lowered his hand making sure not to engage any more muscles than he needed to keep standing calmly. They looked to each other and returned to their chieftain's side.
          Jericho seemed to have pooled a consensus from his aides without any of them speaking further on it. "Why do you seek to trade with us so keenly you'd go through the trouble of coming here?"

          Kire was unable to lie but any infirmity in his story would doom this plan. "Sometimes I travel just to enjoy the beauty of the world and sometimes I follow the paths of relics and cultural curios. I'm an enjoyer of life's pleasures and treasures be it forbidden artifacts hidden in plain sight at the Moonlit Market of Glimmerforge or an exchange of drinks and stories in a remote Clan home. Candidly I did hear of a particular relic making its way to these parts and I had some acquisitions I thought you might like to look at. I would also enjoy seeing the local specialties and wares of your kin."
          The four followers all look to Jericho who had stepped forward to take his own turn leaning over the dandy pretend merchant as if to sniff their true intentions. With no giveaway to his thoughts he pivots on his heel and leads them back towards the gate. "You can enter."

          The inside of the fort is bustling with more activity than Kire's eyes could track. The thick towering walls made entirely from mature trees had done a surprising job of concealing the hubbub from the outside and whole families attended various activities around tiered residences or other central features. It felt crowded and whether his asshole tour guide's guess of thirty warriors had any merit at all Kire quickly eyeballed around eighty Orcs in a quick count of fives from where he stood. He was led to a table and the followers who had watched him so closely pulled away the benches to make it easier for standing on either side. Jericho gestured to the table and Kire rests his bag on it unpacking his goods. A crowd gathered, parents intercepting their kids' grabbing hands or maidens shaking their accompanying men to point at the shinier side pieces and accessories.
          "And is there anything you might have available for trade?" Kire sing-songed to the group of escorts gently laying out the sword and unwrapping it at the farthest end of the table from the little ones. Here and there Orc handicrafts were placed on the table opposite of Kire's own goods but the Eye of the serpent had yet to make an appearance. "Well, for those of discerning taste I present this bottle of sweet nectar once acquired in the far, far away land of Kanudah!" he dramatically sweeps the cloth off the bottle of liquor getting into the showman mood he'd once shared in Glimmerforge. "A seventy proof drink to make you warm behind the ears, this honeyed beverage is in fact not a mead but fermented from wheat..."
          He continued over this item or that trying to humour as many of the swarming visitors as he was able to as only one man which usually required captivating them into full attention with an exaggerated display of salesmanship. "Now this here is a tragic tale; a beautiful and unique blade, castle-forged for the young noble son of St Almond Dupierre of Britonnia who was to receive it alongside his knighthood...Until cowardly illness seized the young man's life! Leaving this would-be storied and legendary blade without a home...Or so the story might go?" his disclaimer confused the crowd.

          Coins and crafts went both ways as he accepted barters and every so often when he checked the chieftain from the corner of his eye he noticed Jericho was particularly fixed on the Grelan statuette... So much so nobody else had tried to grab it. When there is a lull in the transactions he slides over to the master of the fort, leaning on the table and giving a sly smile. "You know you want it. I've seen you staring long enough. Go on, handle it."
          Grelan looked something like how Kire imagined Buddha would appear to an Orc, a rotund humanoid body but with sharply pointed facial features holding a hammer in one hand and a staff in the other. Jericho tenderly clasps the jade statuette and rolls it over in his hands. "I don't know this material, I have never seen anything of its like. How much would you ask for such a thing?"
          Kire looks aside and waves thanking some of the parting customers for their interest or purchase. "Well like I said outside, I'm less about the accumulation of wealth than I am culture. Do you have anything you might care to trade for it?"
          Jericho looks up to and right through Kire. "Well you did say you followed rumours of a relic to the area. I don't suppose it would be described like this?" He reaches into his buckled vest and draws a chain from it which drags out a metal icon seven inches in diameter...A serpent encircling a slitted eye with the talisman burnished into several different colours making its true make hard to identify.
          The master of clan Tull was certainly no fool and Kire had to be vigilant in not treating him like one. "A fascinating work, isn't it? That the artist who crafted it was so bold to frame the more frightening aspects of the God-snake while ensuring it shone with the majesty of its scales? Surely art must be the highest form of worship." Kire's eyes flickered to the Grelan idol in Jericho's other hand with a knowing smile.
          Jericho smiled in kind. "I am of the same opinion."

--

          Having ingratiated himself to the clan Kire was invited to stay for dinner and the camp was in high spirits from having their first good-willed visitor in so long and especially after their clash with The Harrowers the day before. The relic secured and the syndicate foiled Kire was riding high and the excitement of getting to know this reclusive and exotic people was a thrill all its own. As with the Goblins though his mind did wander...
          *I thought you were kidding about that green skin remark. I should have known better.*
          (I like a lot of things okay? And maybe women who could crush my skull between their thighs is on that list.)
          The liquor he'd sold was a hit and there was a number of requests he had to jot down to bring more sometime and the simple dinner eventually escalated into a whole party as more casks were opened. Roped into dancing the bells on his outfit added to the music from a band of hand drums and woodwinds and fires were stoked to greater highs as the night crept on. Eventually he gets a breather by the fire and his eyes catch a glint on the opposite side of the flames. His heart almost thumps out of his chest.
          An Orc woman with a long braid of red hair caught him looking. From her neck down was a mural of tattoos like much of her clan and though many of her people had some piercings none had so many as she. Several in each ear, a couple on either eyebrow, one across the bridge of her nose, a couple offset from her right eye and a pair of snakebites. Her fair features and the array of reflected firelight made his jaw drop which caused her to laugh and turn to say something to her friend who nodded, getting up to walk off. Seeing an opportunity with vacant seats on both sides of the radiant lady Kire winds himself up for the approach. (Got any words of encouragement System?)
          *Please don't.*
          (I can always count on your support!)

          He quickly finishes his cup and strolls around the fire as nonchalant as he can manage. Someone looked about to grab him for conversation but seeing where he was headed thought better of it. "Might I selfishly beg your company?" he indicated the space on the bench beside her and she rolls her eyes up at him with a smirk.
          "Is it ever wrong to pursue your desires?" her voice was husky and her eyes darted back to the flames. Kire takes the seat beside her.
          "Depends who you ask. Some people find voluntary suffering and unfulfilled desires quite holy though I can't say I share their ideas about life. How is it exactly that you aren't flanked by a frenzied mob of admirers?"
          "Most of the clan is pretty strong on respecting my space. Not because I asked them to but...Family stuff." she trails her braid forward over her shoulder to play with it. "Not that my family is a problem either though! Some folks are just too cautious."
          "Let me guess. Your whole family is cursed to transform into grotesque bestial forms with the full moon and go on a rampage? Man I hate when that happens." the wild suggestion and the casual inconvenience he implied it with forces her to look right at him and she breaks into a smile.
          "What a strange idea. Is that something that happens out in the world?"
          Kire notices her teeth and where coming in to this world he would have expected Orcs to have small tusks which was backed by the occasional literary reference this was his first time seeing the pronounced lower cuspids like a pair of fangs moved to the opposite jaw. He hadn't noticed it on any of her clan or Arune and it occurs to him he has never seen Arune smile. "I don't know, it's possible I guess? I hope not." he locks gazes with her eyes, a light brown-orange like the colour of rust.
          She carefully looks his face over and turns back to the flame taking a swig from her drink. "A lot of people are paranoid about getting too close to the chieftain's daughter. They walk on egg shells around me all the time. My father isn't unfair or over protective and hasn't said anything that should make folks wary but with only a couple exceptions everyone seems to keep me at arm's distance because they just don't want to risk offending him."

          Kire exaggerates his response as much as possible to make it clear he was joking when he clutches his chest with one hand and their seat in the other, thrashing his legs while hyperventilating and swinging his body side to side to look over his shoulders with the face of mock panic. "Jericho is your dad?! Oh gods, oh fuck, I gotta get out of here..." with her loneliness laid bare he uses the gesture of pretend escape to slide himself up directly to her, their arms now touching and she tenses with surprise.
          "You really are a strange one huh?" she relaxes and slowly slides her leg over to make contact with his. She takes another drink and sets her cup down beside her, "What did you say your name was?"
          Kire puts his hand on his leg where it would rest inches from her own. "The people of these lands know me as Kire," he tried to sound wistful despite his skyrocketing heart rate and trembling fingers.
          "Kire, huh...And the folks around here know me as Orgath." she playfully imitated his tone and puts her hand on the same leg bracing against him, sneaking a pinky finger out to touch his hand ever so slightly. "Can we go for a walk?"

          They found a spot in a dark corner by the walls furthest away from the lingering celebrants. "Sometimes it really isn't fair how and where we're born," she'd said leading him to seclusion. "It's not just my generation being intimidated by my father but the older generation comparing me to him. I'm one of our clan's best warriors but no matter what I do I will be weighed against him. I'm his only child but my worthiness as a future leader is always brought in to question." she leaned against the wall under the cover of its battlements and Kire joined her still keeping just close enough for a minimum of body contact.
          "You haven't been out of the forest much have you?" he asked.
          Orgath shook her head. "A few times for jobs the clan was hired to do but for the most part no...Living in this stuffy fort surrounded by neighbours and yet close to no one. But I have ambitions aaaand I think you might be able to help me with some things. That's why I wanted to talk with you in private."
          His eyes had adjusted enough to see her outline reasonably well and he tenderly shifts his hand so it brushed against hers, encouraging her to speak. Her fingers give an exploratory curl around his as if feeling another hand for the first time.
          "My father expects me to take his place someday when he is too old or ill or...perishes. Much of the older folks would contest me and question my worthiness. Unless I can do more-much more-to increase my position or benefit the clan I am likely to be rejected by the vote when the time comes. And as much as I am...neglected..." her fingers run up Kire's sleeve with that word. "I do want it. I want to lead my people and have them be prosperous. I want to make my father proud and also to prove my worth-me, Orgath, just as skilled and wise and fair as him but seen for my own value."
          "Reasonable. So where do I fit in to this?" Kire's every sense tingled with her touch.
          "You're the first person to ever approach me so boldly who didn't immediately turn tail when you found out who I was. Whether you're a merchant or a warrior or whatever your story is you're clearly resourceful and well connected to have acquired those treasures. You're also brave or crazy enough to walk into a battlefield and approach our front door unarmed." she turned her body to him, her six foot five frame towering over his five foot ten, and she lightly rests a hand on his shoulder. "I propose an alliance."

          Kire gave in to temptation and put his hand on her hip thumbing a narrow tract of exposed skin between her pants and top. "A partnership, even?"
          Her other hand carefully touches his cheek and her fingers mesh into his hair, running through it. "Mhm. If you can help me to win wealth and esteem for my clan so I can be worthy of the mantle I'm destined for I would be most...appreciative. As would my folk. You're our first visitor to come without conditions in years. You can see how much they appreciated such a simple thing as a polite guest after all this time."
          The music had wound down but not fully stopped in the distance. Kire's thumb wiggled under the bottom hem of her shirt and there was a change in her breathing. "Yeah. I could be amenable to that."
          Beaming a great smile she steps around him, putting her hands and legs to either side and leaning her body in on his to pin him gently against the wall. "Wonderful. And perhaps there's one last favour you could do for me..."