Guluss turned to wave them forward. He pointed to a tall woman of average build. But nothing else about her seemed average. Her hair was uniformly grey, so she was certainly past middle age. But there was little trace of it in her stance and movements. She pointed here and there, directing those around her in their rescue efforts. “I want more litters over here. We need the non-critical moved to the temple.” 

A harried looking cleric bent over the more severely wounded townsfolk with golden healing magic. Others began packing people onto simple litters to carry them away.

"Get those carpenters organized too! This breach must be sealed immediately. Use the destroyed house for parts.”

“But that is the Guildmaster’s house!” a workman exclaimed.

“It was, now it’s a ruin and a way to get the hole filled. There are more monsters on the frontier and more blemmyae besides.”

Refuge was a tightly-packed town so even space along the wall was sometimes used, as was the case with the Guildmaster's house. Whatever had blown the ragged hole in the wall had damaged the house nearby as well.

 The woman saw the three of them approaching, fixing Rhun was a glare that shot daggers. But she noted the presence of the blacksmith as well. “So in the middle of a battle you start a circus troupe? The strongman, the dwarf, and the orc? Well at least the last one is new. What tricks does she know?”

Rhunal glanced at both men beside her, not sure what to say to the comment.

The blacksmith smiled grimly. “Considering the circumstances, I’m glad you haven’t lost your humor, Joveta.”

The mayor’s eye twitched, “Talk to me later when I’m deep in a bottle. I mean it, I’ll need the company.”

The blacksmith nodded. “If you’re bringing the booze, I’ll come by with Chione. She’s helping Sela right now.”

”What happened to the girl?” Joveta asked.

Guluss sighed. "The blemmyae hit our central wall hard. Only Sela survived. Physically she is fine, but she lost many friends today."

Joveta frowned at the news. "And the blemmyae?"

“One broke through and chased us to the backstreets, and it was here that I met the strangers. They came tearing down the hill like a couple mountain goats and tore the blemmyae apart. Didn’t know about their weaknesses though, Chione and I had to help them out a bit.”

She turned to the orc and the giant. “Considering I’ve never met one as big as you or talked to a she-orc in a while, I can assume you aren’t from around here? We don’t get many visitors, especially such colorful ones.”

”Yes, we have been traveling together for a while. Our last stop was Greihold,” Bron said.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, “Did you meet a group of four orcs at any point in your journey?”

“We have seen nobody for weeks. Certainly not a group of orcs,” he answered.

"Speaking of which, when did you two get into town?", asked Joveta. 

“Just as the battle was beginning,” Rhunal said.

“Why did you enter town during a battle? The blacksmith says you came down the cliffs?” Suspicion laced her words.

Bron, ever the man of few words, pointed to the steep slopes rising from behind the town. “We traveled all the way through the forest beyond those slopes.”

The mayor squinted at him. “Well, that’s a tall tale if I’ve ever heard one. Nobody goes through that forest and lives.”

“We did it,” Bron said. “Though I found one unlucky soul who did not make it far.”

“It’s true!” Rhun said, trying to back him up. “That’s where we killed the giant bear and made these fur cloaks.”

Joveta’s nose wrinkled, and she took a step back. “You just made those cloaks? By Inferno, that explains the smell.” Once she was a little more used to the smell, she leaned closer to inspect the freshly skinned fur. “You didn’t cure those properly. You can’t just let it dry in the sun. You either need to salt it, or rub brains all over it.”

“Brains?” Rhun and Bron spoke in unison.

“Sure. This bear had a brain, didn’t it?”

“We, uh, did not think to try,” Bron said.

"Not a surprise from a city boy like you." 

"I never said I was from the city. And I am a full grown man," he answered.

"Don’t insult my intelligence. And don’t take it personally. At my age, I refer to many people that way. I am surprised that the she-orc doesn’t know, almost as surprised that she talks better than I do."

"What kind of person figured out that brains could help cure a hide?" Rhun demanded.

The mayor shrugged. “Some lunatic I’m sure. But then that lunatic taught their kids, and the knowledge got passed down the line. But not to you, miss orc.” She lifted a finger and pointed it at Rhun. “You are different, and I will have my eye on you. But I think I trust the smooth-talking giant less. Still, in these circumstances, I have no choice but to recruit you both for a few hours. Normally I’d ask politely, but not now.”

Joveta waved to a man on top of the wall. “Delmar! Get down here!”

He arrived, bald, burly and with rips in all his clothes. But he wasn’t wounded. He was covered in smoke from stoking multiple fires. “Look mayor we need to get these breaches shored up. My people are tired, and there could be another attack.”

"The giant and his she-orc are going to help you."

"I’m not anybody’s she-orc," Rhun hissed.

"What do they know how to do?" demanded the foreman.

"Absolutely nothing, but if you can’t find a use for a seven-foot man and an orc, then you aren’t much of an engineer."

"He’s only got one hand." Delmar pointed out.

The mayor shrugged. “It doesn’t seem fresh. He’s still got two arms; he must know how to improvise.” She turned to the pair. “Once he’s done with you two, come talk to me. Don’t go anywhere else in town but my house. It’s the big one at the end of the street.”