The outpost, if you still call it that, was a fort needing significant repairs. Many of the structural bricks had fallen into rubble along the base of the walls. Where once stood an enormous tower that made up the largest of the piles of bricks. The bottom foundation brick of the tower was the only portion up-right. Large chunks of it were still intact, sticking out of the rubble. The outpost sat on the edge of grassland that met a wooded mountain edge. As Tiger had suggested, instead of taking arms, we took the cart straight into the center of the outpost. The orcs stood guard, giving us curious looks. The orcs did not stop our progress into the center of the outpost. They seemed to almost cheer us on with a multitude of grunts and groans. The orcs had gnarled tusks protruding out of their mouths. They were unlike any of the other races I had seen. Orcs were of similar stature to that of the half-giant I had seen in the capital. Except these people were a mixture of greens and blues in color. Along with that, they all seemed to have muscles on top of their muscles. I did not doubt that an orc lover would be more than enough even to toss me around.

Orcs were among one the few intelligent monster species. They even had a language they spoke amongst themselves, which to the uninformed sounded only a series of grunts. I was among those who didn’t understand them. Another thing I did not understand, though, is why our inquisitor leader spoke the language of the orcs. When she had told us before that we would be communicating, I did not believe she would be using their language. But, now, seeing for myself, it was strange. Who was she?

“I expected she would want us to fight the orcs. I didn’t think this plan would go this far,” I whispered to Marco.

“Yeah, most in the capital hate orcs more than they hate us,” Marco said.

“Don’t move from this carriage while I speak to their leader. Otherwise, I may have to let these orcs eat the two of you,” Tiger said as she stepped off the carriage. She continued to communicate with the orcs as she moved through the outpost.

Neither Marco nor I moved off of the carriage. Neither of wanting to find out if Tiger had been lying to us. I, for one, did not want to be in the middle of an orc’s sandwich. One of the largest among the orcs was watching us now. He looked as if waiting for us to excuse him from using his excessive muscles. He probably was also the type not to use fresh bread for his sandwiches. I reserved that if I were to be made into a sandwich, I would first have to find an orc that would use suitable bread to compliment my flesh.

After a few moments passed, Tiger returned to us and said, “Well, the chief says he wants a demonstration of strength from us. That is the only way for them to help us. That big one over there who looks ready to make poor little Devin his bunkmate will be the opponent.”

“Tiger, are you sure about this? I don’t know if we can trust them even if they agree now to help us. Who is to say that they won’t betray us?” Mouse said, questioning Tiger.

“Is he fine with a battle to the death? Because I don’t leave survivors,” Marco said with his emotions once again gone from his voice.

“Funny enough, the orc chief asked the same question of me. Your opponent is also a demonic affinity user,” Tiger remarked. She was ignoring the pleas of her subordinate.

“Don’t worry, Devin, I won’t let that big man touch you,” Marco said with his usual grin as he touched my shoulder. I gave him an eye roll as I leaned into him.

“Be safe, Marco. I don’t want to step into this fight. I don’t think they will welcome my contribution.” Marco nodded at me, and he stepped forward to face the orc.

The orc stood at least three heads higher than the surrounding others. He had a large club at his side as he stepped forward. The fight was already decided as soon as they both stepped forward. With a blast of light, the orc found himself imprisoned by Marco’s technique. It looked like Marco was no longer waiting for his opponent. Instead of letting them collect themselves before attacking, he struck first, which was for the best since it almost cost him the last time. To my surprise, the orc managed to will his way out of the flames. He had lumbered forward, staggered by the attack but still determined. He let out a war cry, and the pain in his eyes seemed to disappear.

The orc was a burnt, disfigured mess as he charged. The green skin was a dark black from the hellfire burns and the smoke that erupted from the fire. He breached the distance from Marco and landed a direct hit with his club. Which sent Marco flying into the dirt. I could hear bones cracking, and Marco again joined with the earth.

“Stupid human, I have consumed many powerful things. Your little magic won’t work on me,” the orc grunted. He walked with ease around Marco, taunting him. Marco did not look like it, but he was in worse condition than the orc. He didn’t seem like he had the energy to do anything but clutch his broken ribs. He also had much less experience with the pains of battle compared to the war-hardened orc.

“You are a dead man walking,” Marco sputtered out as he waved his fire-laden hands at the orc. The flames swelled again around the orc. But, they seemed like a minor nuisance in the fight. The orc had seemingly dampened his pain receptors.

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The orc laughed hard as he stared down at his defeated opponent. He raised his club high into the air, ready to finish Marco. But, at that moment, the life from his eyes seemed to disappear. The orc went tumbling down to the ground with a large thud. Watching as this monster of a person collapsed was humbling. As his back faced everyone, I saw where the orc had made his mistake. A small flame had managed to burrow its way into the back of the orc. The orc's downfall is that he does not respect the magic of his opponent and his own dulled pain sensors. Marco’s power was to imprison his opponent, and they would not undo it by charging through the fire. If the orc had spent more time killing and less time boasting, he would have won the fight. He didn’t seem to notice the hellfire's dim lights burning into his soul. With that last attack, Marco had also imbued the last bits of his energy to ensure that the orc would collapse.

The orcs let out a low guttural cry as the strongest among them fell to Marco’s power. Before they got any ideas, I motioned for my golem to stand guard over Marco. Marco was still on the ground, suffering from the impact of the orc’s club and the overuse of his abilities. The orc chief was the first to drop to both of his knees, but soon the rest of the tribe followed suit. I made my way over to Marco and helped him to his feet so he could stand in front of the now-conquered orcs.

“The power of that orc was crazy,” Marco coughed out. “I am scared that his club might still be the death of me. Tiger, you or Mouse got any healing powers?”

Tiger gave Marco a slow shake as she said, “Sorry, my specialty is a blade, and Mouse’s is administrative work.”

As a look of hopelessness washed over Marco’s face, an older-looking female orc approached us. “You bring champion,” she said, pointing a finger towards me, “I shaman.”

I looked over to Tiger for guidance. She just gave me a half-hearted shrug. So, I decided to put my faith in this orc shaman. What other choice did I have? I would not let Marco die here so soon after we left.

I helped Marco along as we followed the older woman into an animal-skinned tent. They had set the tent up within the outpost's walls and many others the orcs were using as houses. Inside the tent were many pouches of what I could only hope was medicine. The woman grabbed a few pouches and began removing the contents and placing them into a bowl. She gave a tug at Marco’s cloak, which I assumed was a gesture to have it removed. Marco let out a small cry, and I pulled the cloak up and over his head. He grimaced as the shirt brushed up against the scar on his face from 77. The scar itself had been healing as expected, but the mark itself still looked like someone had shoved Marco’s face into a fire. Now, his chest was looking no better since it was already turning black and blue.

The orc shaman began smearing the paste she had created on Marco’s wound. After the paste was completely applied, she hovered a hand over his body and said what seemed to be a quick prayer. A glow of pure white light glowed from the green paste on Marco’s chest. The bruising seemed to have already subsided as the green paste disappeared. The paste appeared to be the cost of doing the shaman’s ritual.

“Looks like you are going to be alright,” I said, giving Marco a small smile.

“It seems that way, Devin. I am gonna lay here for a bit and get some needed rest.” He sounded almost as bad as he looked. His voice grave with the sounds of stuck mucus coming from deep within his throat.

“Rest,” the orc shaman repeated as she gave a nod of her head. She then shooed me out of the tent.

“Okay, okay I will see you later after your recovery Marco.” I left the tent and found the golem standing guard outside. The mighty stone of the creature seemed to make the orcs give the creature space as they passed by. I assumed the golem was also keeping out onlookers from staring in at Marco, who was now recovering. “Stay and protect Marco,” I said to the golem as I continued back for Tiger.

I made my way back to the center of the outpost hoping to find the other two. I found Tiger talking to the orc chief in the middle of onlooking at orcs. The chief wore a grand animal-skinned outfit with toughs of fur from many different animals. His outfit also contained many intricate quartz beads that accented his various animal skins. It was unlike anything the other orcs were wearing. It seemed more ceremonial than functional. Most orcs were wearing light animal skins. What material was there allowed little in the way of modesty. I could only imagine what my mother would have thought if she could see these people I was now fraternizing with. She could have had a meltdown right there on the spot.

Tiger turned to me as I approached. “Marco still breathing?” she asked. I expected to hear some kind of empathy in her voice. But, all I heard was the tone of a commander inquiring about their sword.

“Yeah, he will need some rest but then he should be fine. The orcs had a healer among them who saved his life.”

“Good, now for the next stages of my plans here. I will need you to follow around a hunting pack of orcs. Your job is to go with them and use the souls of anything they kill to make more golems.”

“What!” I stuttered out. “What if I say no to you? I don’t want to go around slaughtering animals. Even if it is to feed my golem or to create more of them. How do you even know I needed souls to create animated golems? I created the last one out of necessity and fear, and I may have fed another soul into it. But that all doesn’t mean that it is a process I want to continue!”

“Well, I am not asking. You will do this prisoner 471 or there will be consequences.” She flexed her powers out at me and I knew then she was not our friend. She was a match for both Marco and me when it came to raw potential. I knew she was more like a sharpened knife where Marco and I were falling trees. Not to mention her skill with a sword. I had watched her decapitate a man without him being able to draw his weapon first.

“You are only flexing at me cause Marco lays injured in a tent and my golem is five hundred feet away.”

“So, either way, you two said that you would play along. That was on the condition that I pretend we are one big happy party, and I plan to keep up my end if you do yours. Besides, your friend would be on my side with this. He was more than ready to fight that orc. You saw that expression. He was excited to claim that soul.”