Dilit got away, along with every single resident of Goblintown. Say one thing for goblins, they know how to get while the getting is good.

The other three councilors were hanging in front of the brewery by nightfall. Grim had already been planning to take them out as soon as Titus was taken care of. She’d had men in place, and some of them had even stuck around after Hrazz’k showed up. Which made the coup super easy, really. What’s the word? Serendipity? Something like that.

Anyway, Mudhelm was thrown into chaos for a short time and lots of its residents headed for the hills for one reason or another. Some left because Hrazz’k took his time hunting down all the dumbfucks from the bastion, and others lit out because they were just a little too pally with one or another of the ex-councilors. I knew most would return, if for no other reason than the Debatable Lands were an awful place to try and settle.

There were a few scuffles. All of them ended with charred corpses lying in the street.

When the political opposition had been taken care of, I told Grim to keep an eye on things for a day or two while I recovered.

“Seems like I’m doing all the work, to be honest,” she told me. “What exactly are you contributing?”

“Two things. First, I’ve got the vision.”

“The vision?”

“I know exactly what I want and exactly how to get it.”

“Am I supposed to clap?”

“Second, I’m the guy who can shoot fire out of his hands. And I’ve gotten really, really good at it.”

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“I think that’s a lot more useful than your vision, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s because your greatest strength is also your one real weakness.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“It’s your practicality. Now I’m fucking off to bed. Turn on me and I’ll turn your head into a block of charcoal. Or I’ll just sic my pet demon on you.” Hrazz’k was still hanging around the ruins of the bastion, for some reason. He’d finished off all the defenders hours before.

Grim made a sour face. “Good night to you, too,” she said.

I made my way through deserted streets to the Dripping Bucket. I was not surprised to find it open despite the day’s upheavals. I walked inside, and Goldfinch was behind the counter for a change. He looked at me and grunted.

“That leg’s broken.”

“Lots of other bones too, actually.”

“You don’t look like much.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s good. They underestimate you.”

“Thanks?”

“They underestimate me, as well. They see orc, they think stupid.” He scratched at his massive chest.

“Rest. You will lame yourself if you keep walking on that. Hella will fetch a healer in the morning, a good one. Won’t be cheap.”

With that, Goldfinch was done talking. He stared at the fire and idly picked his nose.

I found my room and collapsed on the bed. I couldn’t feel pain, but I could definitely feel exhaustion. Just as I was about to find sleep, I heard someone calling my name.

“Gar. Hey, kid. Can you hear me?”

“Hrazz’k?”

“Yeah. Listen, If you want, I’ll stick around a bit to make sure you’re set up and all. A few days, anyway. I still owe you.”

My mouth was going to say ‘nah, that’s alright,’ but thankfully my brain shut it down before it had a chance.

“That would be helpful,” I said. “The longer the better, actually.”

“How about I give you a month? Then I gotta take off. It’s been like ten thousand years since I was home. My mate is absolutely gonna murder me.”

“Oh. Right. A month would be great. And thanks for everything. Except maybe the giant fire that killed a city.”

“Life’s a mix of ups and downs, kid. Thanks for setting me free.”

“Thanks for not eating me.”

I don’t know if Hrazz’k said anything after that. Sleep sucked me down.

I slept, and I dreamed.

What did I dream about? It may sound pretentious, but I haven’t lied once in this memoir and I’m not about to start now: I dreamed of conquest.

I dreamed of Utter Domination.

And I slept well.