The first sign that something had changed was that the scouts weren't heading back at normal speed. The second sign was that they were keeping pace with, and probably talking to two large green creatures. They weren't running, which was enough for the watch to wait until they had something to report.

"Really? Big green guys walking with them and it took you five minutes to come down and tell me what's going on?" He found himself saying. Anthony was a bit irritated. Several days of traveling together on the edge of conflict with the zombies gave them a singular purpose. It had not ironed out their differences.

"Look here, guy," Brandon said. "We didn't think it needed to be addressed but they're all heading here. We're all tired. We made a decision to observe a bit longer."

Anthony deflated. He hadn't realized how high strung he had been. Brandon was telling him something important. The bald monk in dwarven robes waited patiently for him.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you. That wasn't me. That was this whole situation."

"Sonya said something to you, didn't she?" Brandon said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"She's just exhausted and I think I pushed her too hard."

"You didn't ask for your scrub top back did you?"

Anthony shook his head. A loud clunk sounded from behind the house. Both men studiously ignored it.

"Even I'm not that stupid. She can keep it. The pants are mine though. It looks silly with a gambeson, but they're designer. Plus I'm not getting a new pair out here. Maybe there's a mending card that will help in case it gets ripped."

"You guys need to work it out. You're both too important to our survival," Brandon said. He held up his water skin and drained it. "Having the glass cannon and the leader date is a pretty big conflict of interest."

"That it is. But there's pretty slim pickings on this continent and dating should be the last thing on everyone's mind."

They both let that stand there. Anthony didn't want to go too deep into the weeds. Her whole situation was a bit traumatic in many regards and there hadn't been any space or time in which to heal. Plainsmount might give them the chance to actually rest instead of constantly shifting from more to less watchful. He had a dream that they might be able to actually stay somewhere for long enough that they could stop the horde, but there would be no resupply.

No one was coming to save them.

No one was coming to save him.

Brandon tapped him on the shoulder.

"So, do you want to send out a party to meet them?"

"Brandon, three of our people are out scouting. Six are on enforced rest-" Anthony said.

"You can't make me!" Andrew said. He was clearly tinkering with something behind the house, and definitely close enough to eavesdrop.

"-three are on watch of which you are one. The other three are myself, Finley and Zan, and we'll be taking over for you around dinnertime. Who do you want me to send?" Anthony said.

"That's an excellent point. We can just greet them at the wall."

A wall of flame extended from behind the house.

"Let's go to the wall; post haste," Anthony said.

"I couldn't agree with you more."

They scrambled to get away from Andrew's experiments.

----------------------------------------

"That one is supposed to be a flame flinger. I do hope that he changes the name," Anthony said, safely from on top of the wall.

"Flame flinger? I mean it sounds unique because he has never heard of a flame thrower?" Brandon replied. "Like he is scaring the horses and that's as close as we can get to a sacred rule: you don't fuck with the horses."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. They are the reason that we're not dead after all. And here they are now."

The two tall orcs reached nearly the top of the wall. It was designed to stop human and dwarven zombies from breaking it. Finley had even shown up to observe after he realized that Anthony wasn't coming down.

"So you have some history with the orcs, do any of their markings on their face or their leather armor mean anything?" Anthony said.

"That's not any configuration I have ever seen. They are far afield of where I have seen any orc. They might be part of a migrating tribe. Not every orc is part of their meritocracy," Finley said. "I have a suspicion that one or both have an epic tier card based on how strong they feel at this distance."

"You can tell that from here?" Anthony hissed. They were nearly within talking distance.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Yes. It takes some time but if they were to unleash their power, you would certainly feel it as a sort of pressure. The situation would be a lot worse if they wanted to fight you. I suspect that whatever they have to say is going to be informative at the very least."

Anthony looked at him with new eyes. Perhaps Sadie needed to ask more questions about which questions to ask the elf. He hadn't expected such a specific detail to come up.

"We're going to have to talk about this later. But for now, treat them like our guests," he said, descending the ladder.

Anthony approached the group. Bob had already dismounted and was helping Stella down as well. She looks determined to do it on her own, and he is equally ready to help. Even the orcs are watching the display with a fair bit of amusement. Hopefully, their smiles meant the same thing that a human would.

"Hey Bob, what's going on?" Anthony said, extending a hand to Bob. Bob readily shook it. If something was afoot this would be where Bob would pass the safe word or some kind of message.

"Well we met Borgan and Song out there and they have an interesting story to tell, but first we need to show them a zombie. They have been walking cross country for the past two weeks, and they're finding it hard to believe that what we're saying is true," Bob said.

"It's a pleasure to meet anyone who is still among the living," Anthony said. "We can show you some of the corpses that have been decomposing since yesterday. Would that be sufficient?"

"That will do," The one called Borgan said. His companion nodded.

In short order, Finley walked them around to the southern side of the city. Several short unmarked graves lay there with sunflowers peeking up. It didn't take long for the orcs to realize what had happened.

Borgan took a knee, retching at the sight of it. Next to him, Song just stared off into space for a long time. Eventually someone brought water for them and they were ushered to the staging area.

The two orcs readily ate whatever was served to them. Stella was happier than a clam to feed them after talking their ears off on their walk. By this time it was late afternoon and Anthony was still reeling from the discovery of living enlightened beings. He had fully expected to never see any until they got off of the continent. The fact that two were in front of them right now, gave him hope.

"What do you think they want to do now? Stella, you seem to have the best read on their situation," he said, inspecting the stew. It wasn't the worst one she had made. They stood back away from the orcs, leaving them to discuss things with their sign language.

"They probably want to warn their clan about what's going on. Chances are that most of their clan has been turned, killed or eaten," she whispered.

"The way that they know how to go there is something that their clan taught them? Or at best is a card skill?"

It was eerie how quiet they were.

"They didn't say and we didn't ask. Don't promise something stupid right now. There's no way that we can take down a tribe of zombie orcs. There's nothing-I mean, just look at them. Borgan is like two meters tall. He could definitely outun one of our horses if he had to. Not for long maybe but he could. Do you really want to wade into a forest and fight a tribe of those?"

Anthony gave her the dad face. He wasn't mad, just disappointed.

"We have a duty to-"

"Anthony."

"-to this world."

Anthony realized that he was brandishing a soup spoon to her and had gone far into the fight part of fight or flight for the second time that day. Stella was also holding a slatted soup spoon out like it was a knife.

This was exactly the time that Anthony realized that he was facing down a rogue.

"Fuck."

"I can assure you that we can both lose this fight. Or I can win. Your choice," she said, holding the spoon like she meant it.

"Stella, I'm so sorry. This is not my day at all," he said. He tried to unclench himself, but the threat of her even in the abstract made him hold onto the spoon even harder.

"You both need to take a chill pill," Sophie said, as the air suddenly dropped significantly in temperature.

The cold air combined with the ridiculousness of fighting his head cook and scout finally got to him.

"Stella, this whole situation is getting to me. I didn't mean anything."

Stella gave him a full body hug. Anthony let himself be held. Then he dropped the spoon.

Stella put her spoon to his neck as she stepped back.

"You're a dead man now," she said, giggling.

"I need a vacation."

From around the campfire, they heard clapping. The two orcs had apparently been watching them and were enjoying the show. Anthony took a deep breath, inhaling the odor of a teenager ready for date night. Then he exhaled the expectation that he wouldn't lash out unexpectedly. It would happen again and he would do his best in the moment. It was all he could do.

"That was an impressive show. Do you humans often fight with your cookware?" Borgan said, standing up. "If not, it would do well. There was just enough angst there for us to think that we might want you for part of our troupe."

"Your troupe?" Anthony said.

"We're traveling bards as well as members of the clan," the orc replied. "You may or may not have noticed our large weapons cases. It's not only weapons but also selected instruments as well."

Borgan went on to explain how it was part of their travels to learn more about other cultures and bring back stories. It was something they had been trained for by the clan since they were younger. They loved traveling to the Irumian kingdom. This gathering was one of the few chances to see the entire clan gathered in one place. It was held every second year. Part of their duties were to spread the information about when the gathering would take place. That was why they had been so late, they had been trying to find some of the further flung Green Fang.

"Guys, I have to be honest right now. There is a real chance that if you go to that gathering, not only will you die but every story about your clan will die with you. We strongly believe that the death knights have marched on this gathering for a reason. None of us are sure of how they know what they know, but we have a good feeling of where they are," Anthony said. "I will assemble my war council but I can't guarantee anything."

"Either way, we must know the fate of our clan," Borgan said.

Anthony waved Finley over. Bob had never left. Anthony explained the situation to them as best as he could. Bob added some flavor to the discussion based on his trek out. Bob called in a few more people to sit in on the discussion.

Anthony was pleased when Sonya arrived.

She had been sleeping. Without saying anything, she sidled up next to him and kissed him.

It was the last thing that he was expecting. It didn't activate his fight or flight response but he did a little happy dance. Having her around made him feel so much better that he wasn't even aware that he was being watched by most of the camp at that time. Of course when he did they were all smiling and he knew that they just wanted to back him up. So he smiled back.

Sonya grabbed his hand and sat down next to him.

"So I hear we're going to war?"