Doc, Burk, Vicorra, and Carl walked back towards the center of town where they saw a large, glittering man talking to a tired-looking elf woman at a fruit cart. As they approached, the tall paladin turned to them and said, “Ah, hello, friends! Have you had any-” He cut himself off as he saw the dark elf with dark goggles beside Burk. “Ah…” he seemed a bit more cautious. “And who is this fine new addition to the crew?” His words came slower than normal, his usual bombastic personality and ironclad composure crumbling. Doc, on the other hand, felt suddenly relaxed. She was terrified that that elf had been with them the whole time and she’d somehow forgotten about her.
“Her name’s Vicorra!” Burk said excitedly, unaware of Athastar’s unease.
“I see… Well, it’s lovely to meet you, miss,” the former Templar shakily said in greeting. Carl was painfully aware of this man’s past, though he wouldn’t be the one to out the bastard. It suddenly occurred to the warlock that Athastar might have lied about his reason for leaving the Templars. “In any case,” the man said hastily, addressing the rest of his crew once more, “we’ve got an issue. Tom’s been trapped on the other side of the wall.”
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” asked a stout little fellow rounding the corner nearby, followed by a gargantuan, trundling, dark green creature. Athastar, in his emotionally weakened state, was surprised by Zib’s sudden arrival, stumbling away from the source of the noise before turning towards its source.
“He said Tom’s trapped on the other side of the wall,” Carl said, smirking at the display.
“That’s what I thought he said,” Zib replied, cracking his knuckles. The big green thing behind him tilted its head from side to side, making loud ‘thunk’ sounds as the joints therein popped. “Oh no, big guy, the holy asshole is mine to deal with.” The Halfling leapt at the paladin, who flinched, but was ultimately reminded that he was the one wearing armor, and this savage little moron had only his fists.
“Very funny, Zib,” Athastar said, attempting to regain his stature. “Who’s this fellow you’ve brought along with you?”
“Name’s Grott,” Grott replied. “Pipsqueak said you could help Grott.”
“I’m sure we can, good fellow!” began Athastar. “You see, we are adven-”
“Don’t care. Just help Grott find son,” the bulky stranger replied. Burk looked up at the creature, feeling a cold sweat build up on his skin. This person was green… like him. He had tusks and greasy dark hair, like his. This Grott fellow even had the stench of sweat hanging all around him thicker than any man or dwarf ever could, as Burk often did. The only difference seemed to be in their height and the shade of green in this newcomer’s skin. What was Grott? What was Burk?
“Don’t worry, sir, we’ll find your son in no time!” Athastar said confidently. He turned on his heel to be on his way, his nervousness upon meeting Vicorra still stunting his mental capacities and preventing him from questioning further. Carl, however, caught his old friend’s chainmail by the neck, slowing his momentum slightly. Carl then put forth a perfectly reasonable line of questioning.
“Where did you last see your son?”
“The wall. Son cross gate, he not come back, I hide in town.”
“And when was this?”
“Two week ago,” he looked angrier, his brows furrowing and face wrinkling in frustration as the thought of his son being lost on the other side of that wall came into his mind.
“And what do we get if we help you find him?” Zib asked, smiling knowingly.
“I join crew, fight good for you,” Grott elaborated. Zib nodded, smirking at Athastar, who had yet to recruit anyone himself.
“Good to hear!” Athastar said cheerily, glad that the pipsqueak carpenter had finally contributed something other than denials of faith and angry remarks. “We shall begin the search post haste!”
“Wait,” Burk piped up, annoying a majority of the party who simply wanted to move forward with this new mission. “I have a question. Grott, what are you?”
Doc jabbed the monk in the side of his leg with her elbow and whispered loudly, “Burk, don’t ask questions like that! It’s rude.” She didn’t want the poor lad to be crushed by the massive, seemingly quite agitated fellow. However, she was wondering something similar. They’d been seeing many muscular greenish folk who looked like Burk being led to ships, but hadn’t been able to talk to one yet, and this one seemed larger and more muscular than any of the others. His skin was darker, his tusks more pronounced, and his ears were flat against the sides of his head, where greasy black hair lay matted.
Burk rushed an apology, becoming somewhat flustered as Doc pointed out his faux pas, but Grott chuckled and replied, “I am orc. You not know?” He laughed again, at which point Athastar patted the orc’s shoulder in order to speak to him as well as his crew.
“In any case, we should go back to the wall… now, preferably.”
“What’s your rush?” Zib asked mockingly, “It’s not like you left a young, impressionable boy in an unknown town surrounded by a magical barrier, right?”
“Actually, that’s exactly what he did,” Carl explained flatly, a smug look still spread across his face. Zib crossed his arms smugly and looked straight at the paladin, who had begun to sweat. The paladin, feeling particularly stupid in this moment and not knowing what else to say or do, then turned on his heel and began walking up the road towards the wall. Grott, slightly confused, followed closely behind, and the rest of the crew went along as well, drawing the attention of many in the surrounding crowd, who were confused by the diverse parade of adventurers and one orc.
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