”Where do we go now?” asked the despondent she-orc. She didn’t even ask it of Bron, but to nobody in particular. Rhunal stared down at her chewed off nails. She had a habit of chewing her nails when nervous or distraught. It was twenty minutes after being kicked out of Joveta’s house and now she’d chewed them down to nubs. 

Brondulf approached her with concern. ”Do not give up yet. You have got a friend in this town.”

“Not one who owns a damn place to sleep!” she snapped.

He crossed his arms at her. “I am not talking about me. Your old language teacher. Although she knows your past as a slave.”

Rhun frowned, initially thinking it a terrible idea, but eventually reconsidered it. “She's been gone for a couple years. If I tell her I was set free, she would have no reason to doubt it. Carinus will eventually learn of my whereabouts. I’d rather have friends when he does.” 

"He will hear of you eventually. The people here seem antagonistic to those in power in Greihold, including your former master."

"All right! Let’s go talk to Valda. Where’s she live?"

Bron chuckled. “I do not know. But it is a small town, Guluss or Chione will probably know. Joveta seemed willing for us to go where we please in town till nightfall. I don’t even see any guards shadowing us.”

Rhun shrugged. “Why would they need them? Everyone in town is watching us.”

The streets were mostly deserted on the trip back. The few people walking the streets avoided the she-orc and the giant. Rhun spotted many angry glares thrown her way. She tried to tell herself she didn’t care; she wasn’t afraid of any human. But these constant reminders she didn’t belong unsettled her. When they passed the gate, the blemmyae had already been dragged outside. Large pools of their blood remained, beginning to stink. Bron covered his nose, but Rhun didn’t, even though she smelled it the strongest. 

“Do you remember Rhun, when Hugh said that the Adventurer’s Guild had become an organization that killed all who entered it?” Bron asked.

“I do. I wonder what these people from Refuge think about it. A strong Guild could have prevented this.”

Bron fiddled with the hilt of the sword on his back. "The Guild is supposed to deal with these threats before they come knocking on the gate. I am sure many people will take this as a sign to begin planning somewhere safer. Those with money at least. And now we might have to deal with an insane Guildmaster. Be prepared to make other plans."

"This place is in turmoil, with enemies all around. And it is near the heart of the frontier. It is the perfect place for you to make a name for yourself. And there must be many sites with magical knowledge and treasure. This is where we belong." She fixed him with a serious expression to match her words. 

"Still, we can do all that from somewhere a little further, if necessary."

"This place has the most dealings with the orcs as well. For all I know, the villages south will do more than just stare at me. Maybe they’d let me come and trade, but I don’t think I could live there."

"I’m still with you."

"For a year, you said. I need to use that time to create a life for myself. And I don’t think it will be in the human villages to the south."

The repetitive clang of a hammer on metal filled the air, making finding Guluss easy. A path led around his shop to the back, where he banged away at the triangular blemmyae sword, only looking up when they walked directly in front of him.

“How did your talk with the mayor go little she-orc?” he asked. 

Rhun scowled at the stocky blacksmith. “Come on. At your height, calling me little is too much.”

"Hmm. That bad huh?"

"She said no. She said she had a town full of scared people and a runaway Guildmaster to deal with. She refused to add an orcish immigrant to the list," Bron answered for her.

"So where will you go now?" Guluss asked.

"We’re not going anywhere. Do you know where Valda Mercca lives? She knows me. She can vouch for my good nature," Rhun interrupted.

"Are you the she-orc who threw a chair at her head?" he asked bemusedly.

Rhunal’s green skin went a shade more grey. “How did you hear of that? I’d hoped she’d forgotten it. And anyway, she ducked it.”

"She’s got good reflexes for one her age."

"I didn’t mean to!" the orc insisted, gesturing wildly.

"That’s not what she said." Guluss pressed her mercilessly.

Rhunal looked to the ground, crestfallen. "I always liked her."

Guluss nodded slowly, unable to hide his smile. "She said that as well. Also said you drove her crazy. Considering how unflappable she usually is, that says something about you."

Bron frowned. "If we go to her, is she going to help or get us kicked out of town?"

Rhun sighed. "Only one way to find out. She’s our last shot anyway."

Guluss pointed at the house across from his. "Valda Mercca will be in the orphan’s school at the end of the middle road leading away from the gate. On the other side of this street, actually. But before you go, I offered you materials in exchange for the blemmyae weapon. But I’ll offer the equivalent in copper coins too."

"The blemmyae iron is not exactly high quality." Rhun pointed out.

“If I melt down this quantity of it, it will be.”

"We are in need of supplies. I would not turn down whatever you are offering." Bron said graciously.

Guluss wrinkled his nose. "Leave those smelly pelts here for now. Trying to convince anyone to let you stay won’t be easier with you smelling to high heaven. You can stash them in that barrel there. I’m going to give you enough copper coin to fix up those clothes of yours."

Bron pointed to a nearby table. "Could I get some mail rings for my half? I can fix the mail myself."

Guluss pointed to a nearby table with a pile of the rings. “Help yourself.”

Rhun approached him. "Thanks, but why are you being so helpful? What do you get out of it?"

Guluss paused, scratching his jaw. “Blunt as ever. You are an orc after all. Things in this town haven’t changed much in many years. And when they do change, it seems to be for the worse. But in the middle of the worst day in our history, a couple of hotheads show up. And suddenly I think, things are getting interesting.”

"I appreciate the payment, but you know you’ll be swimming in these blemmyae swords soon, right?" Rhun asked.

Guluss nodded. “Refuge doesn’t need more swords. It needs hands willing to wield them. Even if those hands are green. Today my wife and I had to fight. We should be making spears not wielding them. It went our way today, but eventually this town would find itself with no blacksmith and only sharpened sticks and stones to defend itself. I wish you luck with the schoolteacher and the mayor. However it ends, I’ll show you how to cure those hides properly when you return.”

Bron took his chainmail rings, and Rhun accepted his small payout of copper coins. They walked through town once more. Their day had begun by scaling and then descending a cliff. It had been much more walking than they expected. Despite their hopes, they walked slowly, giving themselves time to think before an important conversation with the schoolteacher.

“I’m not going to tell her that I ran away from Carinus.” Rhun decided.

"You met this woman after your magical training began?" asked Bron.

"That’s right. Though I was a still a slave at that point, Carinus didn’t treat me like one. I threw myself into training. He never needed to order me to do it. It isn’t so unbelievable that he would let me go at the end of magical training. I don’t know why he didn’t."

"By trying to knock him out, you did not really give him much time to consider it. When you make an ultimatum, people may instinctively feel the need to push back." He stepped away from her as he said this, as if unsure of how she’d take it.

She scowled at his words, but then looked down, considering what the effect on her decision to attack her former master had been. Could her whole life had gone differently because of one decision? “You think he might have just let me go?” 

"I did not know him, but it is possible. Regardless, imagine that he did let you go, and talk to your former language teacher with that in your mind. I said we shouldn’t lie, but these people will not like the idea of a powerful archmage threatening to come here."

Her thoughts roiled with the possibilities created by her decision. She completely missed the last half of Bron’s statement. “And then I probably wouldn’t have met Hugh, or Lovell, or even you. I didn’t even have a plan when I challenged him. I wouldn’t have known where to go.”

Bron grinned. “Sometimes the desperate decisions, like joining that quest, turn out to define your life. It did for me as well and cost me a hand.”

Rhunal patted the spherical golem tied to his hip. “But you’ve got a better one. I still have to find a way to make it more permanent though.”

“I would not turn it down.”

Spotting a general goods store on the way, they stopped in so Rhun could grab some leather and thread to fix her battered clothing. Like most buildings in town, it was roughly, but sturdily made. The interior was filled in with thin but imperfect green-colored planks lining the wooden walls. The shopkeeper stepped forward and Bron expected a protest.

“Welcome to the store. The mayor told me you two might stop by today. She said not to worry about guards.”

Rhun waved a hand. “Don’t worry about him. He’s big, but he’ll be on his best behavior. Isn’t that right Bron?”

Bron arced an eyebrow, but eventually laughed. “I will do my best.”

The shopkeeper was caught off-guard by the act. “Well okay then.”

"Don’t you people have humor here?" Rhun asked.

"Well of course, but I usually don’t hear it coming from an orc."

"Other orcs aren’t serious all the time either I’m sure. Are they?"

"On the contrary, they laugh at their own jokes all the time, but I’ve never found it funny before. But, let me know when you find what you need."

Rhun frowned and went back to shopping.

Bron chuckled even more. “Do not worry, Rhun. You will get through to him eventually.”

She shrugged, browsing through sections of fabric. Bron seemed surprised when Rhun picked out a spool of rich purple thread and some strips of purple cloth. 

“It’s my favorite you know,” she explained. “I might have made do with brown leather and strips of deer hide to hold everything together, but it isn’t how I’d rather look." She emphasized the point by pulling off the bands of deer-hide holding her hair into a ponytail. She tied it back together with the purple cloth. Finding a mirror on the store wall, she grinned. "Just that little bit of purple, and I already feel better. The world has enough greens and browns, a bit of color makes it all better."

Bron blinked, “I never realized you cared so much about your appearance. You are a strange one.”

"I may be an orc, but why should I be a dull one?"

She paid the shopkeeper and left the store with a spring in her step. Bron had never paid attention to it before, but she did have a smooth confident gait. The orcs, male and female, usually walked around with a powerful swagger, but it had a lot of weight to it. Rhunal walked with poise that would have impressed a dancer.