“So, Nash, what are your people like?” I asked to keep my mind off what kind of nastiness was out here. “I don’t know much about orcs.”

I took out my monocle as I asked this.

It gave me the information ‘Orc Bandit— lvl 6, hp 35.’ The monocle didn’t even register his name. That was weird.

The large orc laughed.

“It’s G’nash.”

“Ganash?”

He stopped, and turned to me. Then enunciated slowly.

“GN-ush.”

“Nush?”

“Close enough,” he said with a smile that showed his tusks.

You’ll have to excuse my twang. It really had a hard time with his name. We continued walking. After some time he spoke again.

“What do you want to know? You want to know about my clan? About the Mountain Peoples in general? Orcs are what lowladers call us, but I don’t call my family orcs.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I don’t know.”

“How about you tell me about where you are from, so I know what you find important?”

I thought for a moment, and picked my way through the trail with care. I may as well have just asked him ‘tell me about Chinese people’ or something. People generally appreciate questions about specific cultural things. But I had never even seen an orc before him. What would I want him to know about me, and my people?

Well. I should start with Texas, I guessed.

“So, my people are from Texas.”

“‘Teshas,’ now that’s a name.”

“Right. I actually don’t know where that comes from.”

I asked Rachel later, and she said it was from the Caddo people, filtered through Spanish. I’d never met a Caddo person. If I still had access to the internet maybe I could have looked it up.

“But Texas,” I continued. It took me a while to translate terms in my head but eventually I said, “it’s very big. Part of the United States, a bunch of kingdoms without kings. We used to be farmers and ranchers. But now we’re a very prosperous country with many ways of life. I was mostly a salesman.”

“Kingdom without a king. Interesting. I would say my people are similar. We have the all-moot, a collection of mothers who decide the important decisions that we must make as a people, but generally keep to our clans.”

“Interesting. I thought everyone had a king here.”

“Oh yes,” he said, “many powerful Kings here, but they are not the only way. Gnomes don’t have them. The Mountain People don’t either.”

There was something he wasn’t saying. I got the feeling he didn’t much like the elves. But I could also understand that this sort of talk could get us in trouble, were one of us untrustworthy.

“The all-moot sounds cool,” I said. “Generally we have men run things where I’m from.”

This is a simplification, for sure. But all those male Texas governors didn’t get there by accident.

“Why?” He stopped, and looked at me. “That is also a thing with elves I noticed. Aren’t your men warriors too?”

“I mean, some of them, yeah. But why should that have anything to do with it?”

“Warriors must learn to fight, to protect each other. They don’t have time to understand the community as a whole. That is a woman’s job. In decisions that involve the whole people, those that know most should lead.”

“That's an interesting way to look at it, Nush.”

We walked in silence for a bit. I wondered what would cause a man like him to live so far away from his family. I wondered what orc families were like. I also wondered how the hell he stayed so big eating this elven food. It was delicious, but not very protein rich.

That’s when we saw the corpse.

The corpse in the road was that of a goat. G’nash seemed concerned, and kept making a strange hand movement the longer we looked at it.

The goat seemed relatively unscathed except for the neck, which was torn. Around the wound wrapped black necrotized flesh. Then it hit me where I’d seen something like this.

“It sort of looks like a snake bite,” I said.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“It is far too large to be a snake bite. And the wound is irregular, not punctured.”

He looked around, brown eyes scanning the trees around us.

“You wanting to move?” I asked.

“Let us get to this apothecary.”

We trudged down the trail with haste.

The apothecary’s hut wasn’t too much further. It was a small clay hovel in the side of a hill. The inside was cozy, with a nice fire in the hearth and hanging herbs that smelled medicinal, but not offensive. I described Bernadette’s condition to the man, an older elven man with wild eyebrows, and he sold me a vial of some brackish liquid.

On the way out, the sky was already reddening to dusk. The wind whipped in cold, and I pulled my jacket tighter. We walked back as quickly as we were able.

“Draw your sword,” G’nash said. “Just in case.”

I drew my sword, and unslung my shield. He had his axe in his hands like always.

“What do you think is out there?” I asked.

“Let us save our breath. We may need it.”

The sky deepened to twilight, and we stopped so that I could light a torch. He said he had good darkvision, but that the light would help keep animals away. He also didn’t want me to twist an ankle.

“You’ve got to tell me what you’re afraid of,” I said, striking the flint, but not getting the torch on the first go.

“There is a thing called the voidsickness,” he said.

“Oh that sounds bad.”

“It is. It twists nature into something that only thinks to destroy. My people have dealt with it in the past. I didn’t think it would find its way this far south.”

“What makes you think it could be here?” I asked. The torch lit. “Hell yeah!”

“Shh. The animal that was killed. A bear would have taken it to its den. And the wound. Only the void corrupts the flesh so.”

“So if we come across this thing, don’t let it touch us?”

“If we come across this thing,” he said. “And I am hurt. You must kill me.”

I didn’t say anything, just nodded. I held the torch high, and we walked. It was truly dark now.

I was tired. And at first I wasn’t sure that what I was seeing was true.

A purple light glowed in the distance.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Shh!”

He crouched, and held his hand out to stop me.

The light was further down the trail, and as it approached some of it became more clear. It almost seemed like branches at first, dark thin shapes against the glowing purple. But then I saw the six tines on either side — antlers.

It was a hart, a deer, with a black fur coat that shimmered slightly iridescent against the purple flame that crowned its antlers. The thing was massive, maybe only four feet tall, but stocky as hell. Its all black sclera meant I couldn’t tell what it was focusing on.

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“Well,” I said, “this is it, huh?”

G'nash roared and charged. The hart snorted, and lowered its horns. The orc’s battleaxe clashed with the creature’s horns, and purple flame sprayed in all directions. The hart thrashed, seemingly less interested in bowling him over, rather than raking its antlers across him, backing up and thrusting, rather than running past and exposing its back.

I had a shot at it. I thrust my sword into its haunches. It wheeled on me. I stumbled back. G'nash’s axe made a crunching noise as it severed its leg at the knee.

It was still going.

Black ichor splattered along the ground as it thrashed with even more wild and dangerous movements. I hacked at its legs halfheartedly, but wasn’t able to get a good shot in.

The sound it made was a low groan. It didn’t snort, or below anymore, just this low deep groan as it thrashed. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand, and a chill crept across my shoulders.

I didn’t really know what to do. We needed to pin it down, but couldn’t get in close without fear of facing its antlers.

“I’m dropping the torch!” I yelled. “Back up!”

I dropped the torch. It still sputtered in the dirt, and threw light across the creature’s hooves. I backed up and raised my shield just in time to feel a tine rack across it. My eyes struggled to adjust. Luckily, the purple fire meant I always knew where its antlers were. The orc swung wildly, keeping the dangerous creature just out of reach. But somehow I knew, even with a mortal injury, that this thing would not tire before us. Some profane force kept it fighting long past when it should have died.

I led with my shield, rushing in. The antlers crashed into it, sending flame splashing at me, stinging my eyes, but I power through, getting just close enough. I stabbed with my sword, driving it through his neck.

The creature’s legs buckled. Now was my chance.

I pumped my legs, driving it over and into the ground and pinned it there as it thrashed. G’nash drove the axeblade into its belly. Ichor spilled across my pants. He struck it again. And again.

I stood up and hacked at it too.

It died.

I just stood there for a moment. The orc looked at me with incredulity.

“You are a fine fighter, Breznik.”

“That thing would have killed me.”

“But you live!”

We laughed. I don’t know why but being alive, the relief was too much and we laughed.

G’nash suggested that we wash our clothes in the river before returning to Brindletree. The carcass of the voidsick deer would eventually be cleansed by a cleric from the village, but our clothes were something else. Even in the dark, even in the cold, he impressed upon me that it was worth braving some discomfort to first remove any trace of that vile blood.

Built a fire in the wood next to a stream. The golden light rippled across the clear water. I washed first, then him. It was terribly cold, but I didn’t sense any jeering at my body from the orc.

I was never much used to this kind of thing. I was the kind of guy that changed in the locker room with my head down, and as fast as I could. Maybe it was different with guys that were on sports teams growing up, but I just never felt comfortable with other guys like that.

After washing my body with some soap, and furiously scrubbing my clothes clean, we hung my clothes over the fire to dry and he took his turn.

I didn’t peek. But it didn’t much matter, because when he was done, G’nash sat right next to me on the log near the fire, and pulled me in right next to him.

“You seem uncomfortable, Breznik.”

I just gave him a mortified glance.

“Ah! I see. I remember human countries get precious about nakedness. But there is nothing to do. If we get cold, and catch a sickness, this will all be for naught.”

His body was warm next to mine, and I was grateful for it. But I also felt like maybe I would die from embarrassment.

“I think you’re right,” I said. And I meant it. What else were we to do?

“Would you not do this for your friend? This Shade fellow?”

“She’s a girl.”

“Ah! Yes. Hard to tell with the smaller ones.”

“Orc women are—”

“Endowed with large breasts!”

“Right.”

“You have feelings for this girl?”

The absolute last thing I ever imagined I would ever be doing is sitting naked on a log next to a green skinned man, talking about my feelings for Bernadette, but here I was. It was happening, and I had to deal with it.

I thought back to our night holding each other for warmth against the tree. I would have done that for anyone. But I also know that that night meant something. It meant something to me at least.

“No. I don’t know. Regardless I’m not sure I’d do this with her. I’m not sure I wanted to do this with you.”

“I am sorry. But here we are. What can you do?”

“Right.”

I put my arm around him. Now that the shock had passed, it wasn’t so bad.

I looked his body over, out of sheer curiosity if anything. My eyes slid right over his unmentionables, which I will leave to your imagination, and across his rippling abs that were truly impressive. Not shredded, but large and well defined like the rest of him. His shoulders were the most impressive, and it was hard not to imagine what incredible strength they must have.

I briefly considered if I might be attracted to this man. After some consideration I was fairly sure I wasn’t, but aesthetic beauty made you think.

I just loved women too much for it to really give me any pause.

And I knew that if this were me and Bernadette, I would be having a very different reaction to the closeness.

“You’re big,” was the stupid boneheaded thing I said after that.

“I am indeed.”

There was silence as the grasshoppers chirped, and I looked up at the stars.

“I do not know what to say,” he said after some time. “Am I supposed to remark upon your body?”

“You don’t have to.”

I was briefly curious about what he would say. What did he see? I was obviously not built like an orc. Even after all the exercise I had gotten, I still had a bit of a pouch on me. On account of all the booze, naturally. I had always been a little lanky, and anxious of how my long legs looked. I was pale, but could tan and was starting to get some.

He just smiled and said, “Then I will not.”

I knew Bernadette said she didn’t think these people were people. But how could you not? We’d killed a monster together. We’d laughed at a brush with death. We sat naked on a log together. I didn’t know much about this other world, but now more than ever, I was determined to see these people as worthy of the lives they lived.

I understood now why Caleb was so keen to protect them.

We didn’t talk much after that, and soon we were clothed and on the road. We didn’t run but our clothes were still slightly damp, so we hoofed it at a near jog.

I just hoped I could make it in time.

Upon getting back, I administered the potion. Bernadette scrunched her face up after, but didn’t complain. I was too exhausted to do much else, and so wrapped her in my arms and fell asleep.

My slate dinged. I scooped it up. Two notifications. One said ‘sidequest completed: find poultice for sick party member,’ and the other said ‘level 4 reached.’

I mashed the plus sign next to my name and chose Bard for level 4. I then opened my spell primer and selected the new spell ‘sleep.’

And since I was feeling good, I texted Caleb.

Breznick: Hey Caleb. Mark says you may know where Sofia is. Is that true?

I didn’t get a response right away. But after a couple minutes I got something.

Caleb: His Royal Majesty Caleb the First, is busy. I, Braelyn, am answering his slate messages. What do you need?

Breznik: Just what I said. Where’s Sofia?

Caleb: His Royal Majesty will make an announcement about Sorceress Inara in the group chat momentarily. He thanks you for your concern for his friend.

12:57pm

‘Concern for his friend,’ yeah I guess that’s one way to put it. He’s got a wife and kids now. He probably isn’t gonna go around calling Sofia his girlfriend.

I swiped back to my character sheet. Leveling up had just given me a new ability called ‘Inspiring Words (+60% movement speed, 10% instant healing, and +30% extra damage modifier to a party member of your choice).’ The ability seemed strong, but I found it strange that I didn’t receive attribute points or a subclass yet. Subclasses were usually at level 3 and attributes at level 4.

I gave in and texted the DM.

Beznik: Hey, DM, why didn’t I get attribute points at level up?

He texted back immediately.

DM: Nice to be considered. I could be so much more helpful if you just asked.

DM: Attribute points are given at class level, not player level. Subclasses are also only given at class level. Both are a reflection of your greater proficiency at your chosen role.

Breznik: Okay. Is there another way to increase my stats other than level up?

DM: Sure. You could always get stronger the old fashioned way.

Breznik: Thanks.

DM: My pleasure.

1pm

Read

I sat up and practiced some Little Tricks. I was just able to get some sparks to fly from my fingers when my slate buzzed. There was a new message in the group chat ‘Saviors of the World I Guess.’ My heart raced. Even Bernadette woke up just enough to grab her slate.

“Saviors of the World I Guess”

Caleb: I will endeavor to say as much as I know, presently. Please only ask questions after I am done.

Caleb: The first ten or so years here I spent doing what good deeds I could, and fighting the forces of the Empire of Light and Shadow. In this time, I could not find Sofia. During the Battle of the Unspoken Word, I was able, with my retinue, to fight my way into the Keep of Shadows itself. There I found Sofia in the Clutches of Queen Tenenbria. Using her safety as a pawn against me, I was forced to retreat to save her life.

There was a moment where nobody said anything. Caleb continued.

Caleb: It is my understanding that she, in her capacity as Inara the Sorceress, has been working for them under duress, and providing them with great enchantments.

Caleb: I hope you can now see why I am reluctant to talk about this. I do not want it known that the great hero Inara is working for evil. Her memory is a boon to the people.

Caleb: You may ask questions now.

There were a flurry of questions, but not very many satisfactory answers. Bernadette gave me a look I couldn’t quite discern then went back to sleep. During all of this I received a direct message. It almost seemed too good to be true. I mashed the text before I could think otherwise.

Inara: what he says is true, but he is leaving out some key details. If you meet me in Keep of Shadows, I can tell you the whole truth. But I do not trust these slates. And I do not trust the DM.

Breznik: should I trust Caleb?

Inara: Trust that Caleb will do what is best for himself. And trust that I have been alone for a long time. I am not who you remember.

Beznik: I’ll get you free. I promise.

Inara: don’t make promises you can’t keep.