Gula POV

Bitter cold still clung to my white shirt and red coat as I went down the tunnel leading into the entrance of the underground Orc stronghold. Walls of rough grey stone were on the left and right with the occasional lamp providing light that stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. The only other company was the four Kelton guards surrounding me and the occasional archer behind the murder holes that lined the shaft. I had a box of vegetables and the goat-headed men behind me carried two boxes each. They carried the luggage filled with papers, ink, and an order of leather that one of our customers had asked for while I bore the additional burden of the radio in my bulky coat.

My warehouse/office had only just gotten some new paint when I started getting orders in. I had to put in more than a dozen requests on a single paper, some of which would take weeks to fill and others that I had the supplies on hand to provide. It was panic-inducing at the worst of times, but a lot of the figures I went over told me having a ship was as good as materializing silver from nothing. A ship that reliably came in with no losses at sea was like working gold from the void. Working the shipping company had been similar to my drug running days, only scaled up to the tenth degree and a hundred times more fulfilling.

The work of transporting and preparing orders for my "travel to the Coalition" and the less real story of working small caches stored in Kelton holds left me almost totally ignoring the city's dire situation. Unfortunately, reality had a nasty way of reasserting itself into your life. As it had two days ago.

Arriving at the end of the tunnel, the guard quickly let us pass her towards the growing chatter. Taking a left and going directly onto the arrival area with the large circle of shop stands in the middle of the underground village gave us the most recent taste of what life underground had devolved into since the attack three days ago. Three- or four-story houses shorn into the bedrock were now filled to bursting. Those inside were among the lucky ones, as the less fortunate were consigned to a blanket on the streets. While it was still technically 'inside', the stone floors weren't made for comfort and the available spaces were almost entirely beside doors or entrances and all the foot traffic that followed.

Stalls were still showing the same amount of goods as before, a small blessing in a miserable situation. No amount of money or regular supplies of the market could restore the housing situation at this point, however. Candlelight played along the wide tunnel's walls on the back left of the village from the entrance, mixing with the shafts of natural morning light shining down from the ceiling. This visit we had already gone through all the proper channels for offloading the cargo beforehand, sparing me a trip to the trade office that we quickly shuffled past.

The next tunnel ended at another mini-village. While it had the same setup of lighting and houses cut into the stone sides, the center was taken up by craftswomen. Aside from having no forges or tanneries, every other task needed for civilization was being worked on here. Our destination was yet another tunnel opposite our entrance. Walking along the unusually crowded streets, I finally noticed the typical fragrance of grime and sweat that permeated the air down here.

My mind was so preoccupied with all the room we had and didn't have left on the ship that it left me unprepared for one of the leather workers in a brown hemp dress suddenly approaching from the right. Her head of midnight locks and pudgy face with small dimples bobbed into view from the crowd as her red eyes in black spheres suddenly put themselves in front of mine.

"Captain! How has business been?" She asked with a fake sweetness and a shifting of her black hair over her sharp, green ears. It took only a moment before her gaze shifted to the crates with the eagerness of an excited child.

"Ah, yes. Your leather." I nodded towards the back left guard. The black-furred Kelton promptly came forward as we moved to the right towards the stalls and out of the main vein of traffic. Handing off the leather was a painless affair and landed us a small sack of silver for our non-efforts. In addition to more food, our killing of random pirate ships on the seas had left us a haul of odd bits and ends that we were now almost rid of and at a good bit of profit.

Continuing on our journey was a bit more painful than usual because of how tightly packed things down here were now, even when compared to when I first visited. After a few seconds, the press of people finally granted us passage into traffic and we moved on to my main warehouse. The tunnel to our destination came close as we made our way around the circle of workshops and stalls. This time the wide mouth of coarse grey rock was accompanied by a large chorus of Orc chatter and noise even this far from the source.

Even being a bit wider than the previous two, the candle-lit tunnel felt a bit tighter than its siblings. More than once a Kelton guard was bumped into by a fellow traveler. Some, I suspected, were desperate pickpockets. For their efforts, there could be no reward. Sadly, for the prospecting criminals, the only thing the men bore outside of the crates was a shirt, pants, and a sword at the hip.

The choir of daily life only rose as the tunnel opened up to the exit. This time, it kept expanding into the largest of the caverns I had seen in Crasden. In the middle was a wide landscape of standing houses sporting thick beams and sturdy brickwork. Near the far side of the higher-end neighborhood lay several tunnel entrances, though my eyes immediately went to the right.

My warehouse was like most of its kind; A two-story affair dug into the surrounding wall. Overall, it had barely been an hour of replacements and painting before it was ready. The good condition mostly owing to how suddenly its former owner had been destroyed in the Mist pirates rampage just weeks prior.

Time moved quickly these days and it didn't seem inclined to slow down. Previously abandoned warehouses lined the right wall up to the river hatches near the back right side of the cavern and now swelled with my kind. Not starving and most more than a little battered, the biggest challenge the people stuck between being a refugee and temporarily inconvenienced was the cold. Even being underground, the separation between Orcs and the proper human side was at its thinnest here.

What were quiet, dead streets now bustled with green women and girls trying to find one bit of work or another. The new life in the space made it a bit harder to get to my warehouse only a stone toss away but it wasn't too long before we got to the wide, sliding oak door in the center. A swell of pride bloomed in my chest as I pushed the wooden obstruction to the right.

It was odd, owning a place. There was some voice in the back of my mind saying I hadn't actually paid for the warehouse, but it was my name on the deed, dammit. I had always lived with my mother or been shacked up with one person or another, never really calling a place 'mine' and mine alone. Looking towards the back of the long stone shaft with wooden support beams on the roof, the families staying in the back of the wide room meant I didn't live here alone, but it was my home that they were staying in. Sections for the individual families were divided by long blankets hung from hooks along the ceiling, doing nothing to stop the small girls in worn dresses from running between them in a cloud of giggles that was at odds with the worried faces of the mothers occasionally showing between the fabric.

"All accounted for, miss." An older voice called from my left.

Turning, I found my secretary sitting at the desk by a window. An elderly woman sporting wrinkles all over her green skin, angular cheeks, and a bun of grey hair, thin hands coming out of her brown dress moved with her gold eyes as she moved her quill over one paper or another. To her right was a staircase leading to the upper floor where I stayed.

"Now, where is that…" The older woman absentmindedly mused with a twitch of her sharp nose.

Despite years of service working the warehouses as a secretary, the newest addition to my smuggling/shipping operation was still getting everything in order. Looking across her swamped desk and the stacks of papers covering orders, taxes, and other trappings of civilization left me grateful that I had found her among the displaced.

"Ah, here. A request from the council concerning the space available on the ship." She offered me a piece of paper with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Sharn," I responded, taking the paper with a nod. She returned the gesture before looking back down to a practice mastered over decades. The letter was printed on fine-feeling yellow paper, far better than the rough stuff we had back in the swamps, and its handwriting was almost artistic.

'Hello, Gula. We are inquiring into the status of your ship and the tonnage of available space. Included in these discussions will be the rents for your warehouse."

A slight hiccup in the 'your' contrasted with the otherwise pristine letters seemingly pointing to the person writing it being most unhappy about me scooping up one of the previously abandoned warehouses.

"Sharn, do you have the current housing rates?"

"Yes!" The older woman excitedly intoned as her hands flew through the papers before producing the one she was looking for and handing it to me. I gave her one last nod before going up the stairs to the right.

"Oh, miss Gula!" Sharn called behind me.

Looking back to her, I saw some mirth in her eyes.

"I remembered. It was a pier. I met my late husband under a pier. Rough specimen but I managed to corral him."

"Good." I responded, happy to get an answer to one of the many subtle inquiries I had been conducting into the lives and pasts of the Orcs here.

Walking up wooden steps was far more agreeable than the hard stone I had been walking over. Between the rocks out on the fields far away from Crasden and the tough underground floor, my feet weren't quite screaming but I could feel some complaints coming on.

Making my way to the top, I immediately turned around when I reached the end of the stairs and past the guard rails of dark oak. Shafts of early morning light came through the ceiling and played across the desk sporting a fresh stack of papers on the left as well as an extra wooden chair standing opposite for any guests. Getting to my seat took some extra work with this setup, but the soldier in me demanded a layout that wouldn't let someone run straight from the first floor to my seat. Just as it demanded the shutters in the windows instead of the typical open arrangement with solid covers used for closing. Sitting into my red leather chair with all the dignity of a beggar assuming their mat, my eyes wandered over to the pile of odds and ends near the back of my floor.

Crates large and small were stacked in the back going on for what I wanted to say was a good stone toss. Sourced from the pirates making everyone's lives miserable, we had to do a thorough check to make sure blood wasn't on anything or sporting any identifiable markings, but the bits were being slowly sold to the people who needed them. Some of it was possibly theirs based on a contract made void months ago when the providers were torched to the ground. Amidst the odds and ends was a bed with thick blankets somewhere cradled with the stacks of boxes.

Turning back to my dark wooden desk, I picked out the paper with the housing rate.

"Hic!" I snorted, my reaction so physical it stunted my yelp.

The page was far courser than the council paper, but it could be written on a baked mud tablet for all I cared. An eyewatering four hundred and fifty-seven silver was the going rate for my standardized warehouse. The vague memories of my payment for this corner of the world made me want to say prices had nearly tripled since that long-lost age of about a week ago.

Wondering if construction and housing were my true calling in life, I set about the usual mundane tasks needed for a new business. Sharn had left the documents requiring my signatures along with small notes for subjects she thought I'd struggle with. It was late morning as the work of churning through the stack of orders, agreements, and council documents reached a peak when I heard someone coming up the stairs.

It was the plump, motherly priest in grey robes who had helped sell me the place. When she turned around, I saw some of her grey and black hair flowing out of her hood and around the odd X-shape I heard them call a cross. The thing that immediately drew my attention was the bags under her gold eyes that even obscured the mole under her left orb. Her omnipresent aura of motherlyness felt strained, and the scratch of her short nose was also a bit out of character.

"Gula, a pleasure to meet you again." She offered with a slight bow as she stood on the right of the desk.

"Same, Cassie," I responded, waving my hand to the chair opposite of me. Her plop into it wasn't totally devoid of care, but there was a bit of uncharacteristic free fall at the tail end.

The priest took in a big breath as her hands nervously squeezed together in her lap. Content to wait, I leaned back in my chair as she collected her thoughts. When she finished whatever internal conversation was going on, her eyes went to the message from the local council.

"Do you know how much you'll be able to bring in yet?" She quietly asked.

I raised an eyebrow as my first response. The priest had become my liaison not just to the church but the government itself. If she was asking about it, the local leadership had basically asked me about my cargo capacity twice this morning. Something that screamed desperation and made my stomach squeeze in fear.

"How badly did the stone caster damage the underground holds when she tore through here?"

My question was met with a small smile before she met my gaze.

"Our walls survived mostly intact, and all is being seen to. As is officially decreed." She intoned with dull eyes. Her continued nervous rubbing combined with the constant pestering for space on my ship didn't suggest things were that optimistic, but I did her the courtesy of allowing her to continue. "Details about ongoing operations, however, can only be explained in an official meeting. Nersa, the head of the council, will be having a closed hearing which will be attended by a small entourage of others involved in these government affairs. They will be determining the shipments brought in."

Holding her gaze, I leaned back into my chair with folded arms. My role in this was a powerful, sneaky smuggler and business owner. Would a woman like that be offended at the suggestion that this council would determine how to best use their ship? I think they would be.

"Oh? They'll be deciding what goes in my hold?"

She gave me a long smile and put up her hands in surrender.

"I used poor words, captain. I meant only for the shipments we order."

Cooling my fake anger, I rested my hands on the padded armrests.

"When will this meeting be held?"

"Early tomorrow. After breakfast." She answered with a polite smile still plastered on her face.

"All right. Can you give me a general figure for how much you want me to reserve? I'm already getting some interest even without having unloaded our current unsold cargo."

Cassie bit her lip for a moment, her gold eyes moving like they were skimming a paper until she finally answered.

"At least thirty crates of lime, stone, and masonry tools. Probably more than that, but I would hold off on using any hard numbers until tomorrow morning."

The continued biting of her lips and nervous wrangling said another demand had yet to be delivered. I was content to let her work through those thoughts as I rested my feet on the bar of my chair. Bastard's beard, pain didn't seem to make itself properly known until relief came.

"Would you be willing to take on younger crewmembers?" Cassie finally asked.

My lips puckered without me deciding to do so.

"On a more permanent basis or for a contracted period? And would I be wrong to assume we're talking about orphans?"

The priest finally stopped biting her lip as their release from between her teeth was accompanied by a sigh.

"I've gone over everything. All day and night scouring the registries and accounts for any copper to stretch or expense to cut. We sisters of Christ have done everything we and God can manage. There's simply not enough money. Not with the survivors of the holds that had their ceiling collapsed and the council pinching every copper they can for repairs. I feel like I'm abandoning them. But.... our means were stretched before. Now…"

She stopped with the rise of my left hand. I followed the motion up with a lean forward and an intermeshing of my fingers. My gaze, however, turned downward where a beam of the morning light was shining on my black pants.

There would be plenty of work for them to do. But the nature of where I got my goods from was a tale still unfinished. My official story was from the Coalition and caches stored among the Kelton lands. The 'real' story, if needed, would be that Salamede and her enclave of super-secret Kelton mages were my benefactors. Not a card we wanted to play if we didn't have to and the 'actual real' story of getting the cargo from the freezing base up north absolutely wouldn't be told to the wider public.

Still… the entire point of all of this was to recruit people to our cause. Eli wanted to enlist people whose ideology would be more accommodating to his vision and that was a good idea. What about those with no ideology? Big plans and logical arguments were very rational, but people weren't wholly rational creatures. Poor children who were saved from starvation would probably grow up to be more loyal than those who joined us out of some ideological doctrine. We'd certainly have enough time for the Orcs in their early tens to mid-teens to become fully-fledged members when the time to start moving in the open came.

"Given that I'll be going on a trip in the near future, I can't commit to any number right now beyond five or six. We'll almost certainly be able to take on more I just can't agree to an official headcount for now."

Her gold eyes shone with gratitude, though my raised hand and hard stare made her stiffen.

"What I can say for certain is if we do take any of them on, they are not coming back. I have many hidden places for my goods, and I treasure my contacts as much as my own life. Bringing them on and then having them give out what they've seen on the journey to and from here is not a risk I'm willing to take."

Cassie bit her lip at that. Her soft hands gripped the chair arms for a moment, but something approaching defeat finally came over her face.

"Will we be able to see them at any point? What about those with younger siblings?"

Pursing my lips, I pondered it for a bit. A solid denial was safe for now, but it might grate on our future members if we force them to abandon any remaining family members.

"On the return, I could have a meeting set up with my Kelton guards. Their kind are very adept at spirit connections and can mediate the conversation to make sure the kids don't say anything they shouldn't."

Her soft face lit up a bit.

"We have several girls who would be glad to just be out in the open air. When should I get some of them ready?"

"Tomorrow. Sometime between lunch and dinner."

Cassie got up as I looked back down to my papers. The day passed in a sea of papers and signatures jotted down with declining quality. I'd heard tales of a simple stamp that those higher up on the command chain used to place down signatures in mass. My left hand was demanding such a device from Eli, the market, or the Bastard himself when I called it a day and made my way down the steps. Sharn was still dutifully maneuvering the papers under a candlelight placed on the right side of her desk.

"You can call it a night. Spirits know I am." I informed the older woman.

A rough grunt was the only response she gave me.

Content to leave the master to their craft, I went through the front door with two of the guards leaving their position by the front entrance to accompany me. Walking down the row of warehouses was rather eerie. The stray amount of starlight filtering from the ceiling was enough to navigate the stone road. Not enough to properly read or paint, but I could make out general faces and shapes in the dirt or bricks.

The daily family reunion was halfway done as I came around the bend of the last house. It was such a miraculous sight, Orcs with human husbands. Small green girls ran up to men and were scooped up with laughs and giggles, though their father struggled under the faint light. For all the happiness around me, my heart felt a stab of…something akin to jealousy.

Between here and my time among the waveborn, the obvious question presented itself: What did the Orcs here have that we among the reeds of the swamps lacked? Their hair wasn't finer, skin any smoother, and unless the clothes here were partially made of space-expanded sections like Eli's boxes of holding, their chests were not any more generous. My attention had been getting pulled in a thousand different directions and I was content to leave the question in the dark recesses of my soul. But if I was going to keep dragging myself here every night like a forlorn puppy, I'd better just work out this issue in the coming week.

Fortunately, sightseeing wasn't what brought me here tonight. Walking further ahead past the last of the families, I came up to the doors leading out onto the riverbank. When the veil of darkness fell, the lands between the rolling hills were hidden from the 'Good' side of the city. Making my way past the open doors was a quick affair as I came out in front of the usual crowd looking for fresh air.

We were under a large house with pillars of wood holding up the structure above while the soft rush of the stream ahead filled my ears. Taking an appreciative swig of the fine air stole a second of my time, though the atmosphere was still fouler than the base's immaculate cleanliness. Even with bits of trash lingering about and the river acting as the main sewage outlet for this section of the slum, it was better than the underground. Sadly, better didn't always mean good.

I missed my ship, the room in the base, and, spirits help me, I even missed my home in the swamp. That decided it. If city life could make me miss that mud hole, there would be no hope for me among the packed masses. Consigning the rest of my days to rural living when Eli's plan was finished, I turned right as more of my kind started moving up behind me.

Walking along the wet riverbank with shoddy stone walkways on the right was a painless affair even as my nerves screamed at me. The distant walls were sprinkled with the occasional torch. I knew that the guards wouldn't be able to see us from this distance. Even if they could, our green skin would make us almost invisible. And if they did see us, the distance was too great to distinguish us from humans.

None of which mattered because the guards weren't about to report their wives for execution.

Thinking back to the swamps and all the death surrounding our assaults on such stone beasts, it felt like I was in the jaws of a long-feared monster. Pushing my irrational fears as far down as they would go, my trip down the river took me to the outlet for the water. A stones throw from the wall was a long series of outhouses on a stone arch over the canal. It was a popular first spot for the Orcs going for a walk and this was usually the first part of my night.

On the stone walkway, the sound of the river increased as I moved toward the center until it was hard to hear anything but the churning water. Near the small outflow in the walls and the fastest section of the stream, the stalls in this section provided enough soundproofing for the occupant's business and, for my purposes, conversation. Once I came up to the middlemost outhouse, I immediately opened the shabby door before closing it behind me. Taking off my coat was a bit of a bother before I finally threw it off and placed it on a hook screwed into the door.

The ever-present crash of water filled the cramped wooden box through the open hole of the built-in bench where the task of the place was completed. I was quite grateful for the starlight coming through the slits in the ceiling as I rummaged through the pockets of the red coat until I retrieved the wooden box with metal meshes on the side.

A small ritual then took place as I used the thick coat as a tent to help separate my coming talk from the outside world. I had my guards assume positions outside to make sure nothing could be heard or eavesdropper pry, so I pressed the button with confidence.

"Hello, this is Gula speaking," I whispered into the box, my breath sending a cloud over the metal mesh.

"Coming in, dear daughter. How shit are things in the city?" My mother's crackling voice came through the box.

A smile stole over my face at mother's typical eloquence.

"It's hard to tell. Food isn't as big of a problem but space is a new crisis. I think it'll be a few days before the general situation settle enough to tell. Just glad I still have my own home after the slugging match that happened down here. Well, I guess I technically have three homes these days. Maybe four if we count Salamede's mini-city."

A small snort came through the box.

"We've certainly got more options than we used to. How's the smuggling business coming along? Had to break any noses yet?"

"Not yet. If things start taking a real downturn, my guards might get some practice with their swords. Speaking of the current situation, I have a proposal for Eli. If you could just tell him what I've told you."

It was a few minutes of silence as I stood there under my coat. There was a lot I wanted to tell him besides the usual business side of things. Doing it with my mother relaying the message wasn't going to happen, however. Even if the words were from him, hearing cute husband words in mom's voice wasn't something I think I could process.

"All right," The box intoned. "He knows what little you told me. What's the proposal?"

"I want to bring on some new crew members from the church. Things are getting a bit too tight down here and I was approached to take on some younger girls to make some room."

A few more seconds of waiting around before my bauble crackled to life.

"So, they're reliable?" My mother's voice inquired.

Now that was an interesting question. From what my sniffing about had managed to drag up, the group wasn't in control of the city. Powerful and numerous, but far from the masters of everything here. They clashed with the civil government on occasion and the biggest thorn in each other's sides was mages. Most non-church members were just trying to get on with their day while some were rather fervent in fulfilling the Bastard's vision for our people.

The 'Christ-in-ians', I believe the name was, were entirely opposed to any efforts to capture a mage and had the political muscle to enforce such a desire. A big problem since other holds typically had such ambitions. Gritty details like if they were opposed to all mages or simply aware of what a disaster success would be has eluded my conversations. On the whole, I wanted to say they'd join us. Eli was practically the second coming of their saint Adia with his religious doctrines and scientific knowledge.

Was I certain enough to risk all our lives? That I couldn't answer.

"The scale tips to yes, but not enough that I'd be comfortable. You would convince almost all of them, though there is always going to be a defector. How we'd get that conversation to happen is beyond me."

A few more smelly seconds passed.

"Then how can you trust the people you want to bring in?"

"They're not ideological. Just looking for a warm home and food on the plate."

More time spent waiting. I honestly missed how immediate conversations were between only two people.

"Everyone has an ideology. If you've heard of a war or some proposal, you have formed an ideology, even if you haven't spent enough time or thought to articulate it. If they're a member of a major group in the political fighting, they definitely have some beliefs that could conflict with our vision."

I looked up to the red fabric with a roll of my eyes.

"They're from the orphanage, not of the church as members. I doubt kids are going to be having some intellectual debate about the merits of vast societal undercurrents and racial destiny. If we can spend these years bringing in kids, we can-"

My tongue had the word 'indoctrinate' right on its tip before my scant social graces swooped in at the last moment.

"-show them how great our way is and how much better everything will be with us in command."

My foot tapped on the wood floor until the box finally crackled again.

"I didn't realize I sized our ships for such small hands." Mothers amused voice sounded out. "While we haven't explicitly banned putting the little ones in the workshops, I had assumed we didn't need to have that conversation. Are you seriously considering using kids for labor?"

Humans. The fact that they were almost useless for years and years was an excessive indulgence of their kind. We were made a bit sterner, and that grit started far younger.

"Eli, I was going to the market when I was five. They will be just fine, and I certainly won't be putting them on any dangerous duties. Pot washing and mopping always need to be done and it's nothing dangerous."

This time I mentally prepared for a good slugging match. When the radio crackled again, mother's first word was dripping with fake anger.

"Gula. Don't you ever think of sending my baby girls to do work or shopping by themselves," Her voice dropped the gruffness and became thoroughly amused. "I'd be careful, dear daughter, he sounds legitimately irritated."

Dammit, Eli! Hitting me with sweet husband crap. A smile stole over my face, and I couldn't stop myself from biting my lip in anticipation of seeing him again. Totally disarmed, I retreated to a safer position.

"Even if I worked them to the bone, it would be a kinder fate than what probably waits for them here. And it's better for us than risking bringing on full adults. I've already worked out an arrangement with the head of the financial department. The kids won't be allowed to directly speak with the priest for fear of giving away the position of my stores and contacts."

The wait this time was a bit more pleasant as my mind wandered into the future and I wondered how Orc's from Eli would live. It would certainly involve the finest dresses, jewelry, and as many sweets as they wanted until they were plump. The thought left me torn. Meager living and toughness were the hallmark of my kind, and I wouldn't want them to totally abandon our history, almost as much as I never wanted them to be a part of it. A crackle from the radio pulled me back to the oppressively cold present.

"And what will they be seeing? We only just have enough Kelton guards to be comfortable in the base. We haven't gotten enough steel or iron to expand it…. The other issues aside."

That was a real thorn. My kind had to be relegated to the main base due to one of them possibly running off. We had pushed off the question of what to do with them by bringing their husbands along and letting them focus on construction. All under the supervision of an overseer with two or three Keltons to an Orc. That and the fact that none of them knew how to fly our ships had pushed back the main issue.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"If I could interject." My mother's voice sounded out and this time to both of us. "We can't hide that some weird shit is going on. Let's just be like the Waterborn, only everywhere. Hold back from getting into harbor with only adult crews going ashore."

A few moments crunching the proposal passed before she talked again.

"Eli says we should probably stick to just showing the Kelton mage hold if things come to it. The fleet is a week or so from having another ship ready to fly and when there are more eyes in the air, we can make a decision then."

A flash of irritation at being only half in the conversation came and went as I was too busy focusing on how cold it was. Winter had long stripped me of my residual body heat and the finger I used to press the button slightly shook.

"All right. I hope they like large snails. It's damn cold down here and if there are no objections, I'd like to head back to my home in the ground."

After a few seconds of silence, mom's voice finally came back with a small amount of genuine irritation.

"None. Though, Eli, it does make me wonder how much Gula means to you. Did you not give her a heating craft?"

"Mother!" I immediately interjected. "If he had tried to, I would have hit him upside the head with it for being so reckless. Now, apologize, tell him that I love him, and let me get some sleep."

Some ancient, primal instinct screamed that mother was rolling her eyes.

"Fine. I'm sorry, Eli. She loves you and believes in you. I guess I do too considering I'm floating in the sky like a bird. If there aren't any other objections, I bid you all goodnight."

She had to have a heating craft. My mouth was jittering, and I was on the ground. All the way up there and talking like it was any other meal chatter? That wasn't happening unless she had some extra warmth beyond what a coat could provide. It was probably a summer day for her while I started going over how to walk with a few missing toes.

"Good night. Love you." I finally said before putting the radio down. It was a few very painful minutes of using the deathly cold stall for its intended purpose before I was ready to head out. Thoroughly removed from any heat, my clacking jaw and shivering hands didn't get better as our little group left the latrines. My Kelton guards were fine, however. No shaking or jittering for them. The thick fur on their heads meant they were mostly fine as we walked down the arch back towards the warehouse.

The crowd of Orcs was a bit thicker now. Some sported an assortment of leather and regular shirts while other stuck to the dresses typical of human women. No matter the choice in attire, thick wools and even a few furs on hands and neck abounded. It was a short trip back to the entrance but I stopped just short of the wide open door. I could just smell that swirl of sweat and body odor in the wide expanse of wooden and brick houses beyond. My nose nearly made me turn back towards the winter night.The freeze on my skin presented a rather devastating counterargument, pushing me through the wooden entrance.

Turning left and down the road was easier with so many Orcs now enjoying the outdoors. The warehouses on the left still looked run down but the occasional squeal or footfall told of families housed within. It was at this point that one of the guards moved forward and his unsure movements made me raise an eyebrow to him.

"Bad foot?"

His mane of brown fur and sharp stubs of horns swung with his head shake.

"No, lady." His rough voice sounded off. "Just trying to adjust to the light."

I nodded before coming to a stop. We stood around for a moment, taking in the rough grey ceiling and the decent woodwork of the houses on the right. It was a second before the Kelton man coughed.

"I'm good. Thank you."

With the ruffling of fur from the man behind me confirming their readiness, we all continued on our way. It was only a minute before we arrived back at my warehouse and quietly slipped through the wide door. The men immediately left to sleep in one of the sections cordoned off by the blankets among the guests getting ready for bed. Sharn had long since finished her toils with the candle on the right side of her desk not giving off so much as a whiff of smoke. My long trek up the stairs was only made bearable by the slightly warmer air.

Getting up to the second floor was easy but the back end of the room was almost pitch black. The men above had closed most of the slats through which the light filtered to the underground and now even my otherwise good eyesight struggled. It was only through memory and the occasional touch of a known crate that gradually led me up to my resting spot. When I was at what my mind said was the right spot, I put my hands out and met a thick blanket. Tired, cold, and sporting sore feet, I quickly tore off my boots and threw myself into the bed. Getting myself properly under the sheets and a spot for my head in the pillows took a minute as I put the radio between the mattress and the headboard, but once that was done, sleep called for me the moment I felt the cold pillow hit my head.

"Mistress Gula." Shrans soft voice rang out.

I kept my eyes closed. Please, let there be another Orc named Gula here.

"Captain." A rough Kelton voice followed.

Ugh.

Forcing myself into full awareness took a moment and it didn't help that my first reward was the sight of a crate. Wrapped in the blankets like a sausage in a roll, it took some work to get out of it and take in the weak sunlight barely peeking through slits in the roof. When I finally had the warm constraints down at my feet, I took a moment to stretch. Black hair near my left eye moved over my skin with the distinctive slick of grease and I didn't dare test my morning breath.

Putting my sock laden feet on the floor, I turned right to the chest at my bed's end before leaning back and retrieving the wood box that dragged me into the freezing night for so long. Opening the chest as I leaned over the foot of the bed, I picked out a thick black jacket, fresh white shirt with matching bra, a change of socks, cleaning cloth, and brown pants, laying the radio in the false bottom as I did so. Resting my new attire on the crumbled sheets and putting my shoes on finally made me ready to begin getting prepared for the day.

Crates were on all sides, but the way forward was opposite my bed. Walking through the opening with a quick swipe to pick up my clothes, I took a left then another right into the open room. A black-furred Kelton in a white shirt, metal shoulder pads, and brown pants stood to the right of Shran. The older woman wore a grey dress, matching her grey hair in a bun.

"We were getting worried." The orc offered with a smile above her stubby chin.

"Have I overslept?" I asked with a quickened step past the two.

"No. But if we didn't wake you up, you would have."

Nodding behind me, I immediately shot down the stairs directly ahead.

"No need to hurry, Mistress. The council is strictly an after-meal affair." The older woman called behind me. Another nod accompanied my dash down the steps. Three Keltons were at the bottom lounging by the wide doorway. They quickly made out into the street with my last guard coming up behind. We moved left into the main stream of traffic along the back of the wooden houses.

The stench of body odor and the distinct feeling of wet heat clung to my skin. It was still early and the over night crew was turning in while the rest of civilization was only just rousing. A shift right took us into the main outflow of traffic. While guards were typical, a larger portion of the Orcs were leather-clad and sporting weapons as those guarding the tunnels handed off the work to the next company of soldiers.

We were afforded a bit more room in the morning rush compared to regular traffic and arrived in short order at the end past the various tunnel entrances, even if the men had to shift around me from time to time. When the wall came up to us, we took a right and down towards the tunnel entrance just a stone's toss away. It was comprised of the same stone steps up to the lisp and rough grey wall. The smacks of our shoes joined a stampede of others as the hole in the stone allowed for the passage of dozens shoulder to shoulder.

As we passed the second torch, I wanted to smack myself.

"I forgot my toothbrush." I declared to no one.

"I'll get another with our breakfast." The younger, brown-maned lad with large twirling horns said as he maneuvered around a cart ahead of us. A simple nod from me was all I gave him in response.

My feet weren't sore anymore and I was feeling a bit better now. It also helped that the smell of baking bread started replacing the typical assault on my nose. A few seconds more and the end of the tunnel finally came into view with the corner of a wider building peeking out of the left side. When I came through the end the tight walls opened to a wide cavern at the center of which stood a wide rectangle of a building.

A single-floor affair with grey stone walls shorn out of proper brick unlike the rough texture of the cavern. The wide slabs of wood that served as the shingled roof were properly measured and cut out with good craftsmanship. More than the look of the place, its smell was of hot loaves and pastries owing to the tunnel in the back left leading into the only bakery here. My eyes only roamed the cavern for a moment before turning directly ahead to the entrance of the next tunnel.

I paid the area no more attention as my boredom with this routine sunk in. Our steps were lost in the cascade of others going about whatever task yanked them from their warm beds, the youngest splitting off from our group towards the bakery section. Lucky brat. Moving straight ahead over the bricks of a proper road as opposed to the typical tunnel floor, I quickly found my stride as we moved through the crowd and into another section of housing by the river. It had the same layout of standing houses in the middle but this section had no warehouses on the sides, though I did notice more workers around the river area than usual, though they were too far off for me to notice what they were doing. The next and the one after were nearly identical copies of all that had come before.

It was only when we made it past the last riverside housing area that the tunnel opened up to a cavern holding the communal washing area and it was here that the river served a purpose beyond a nice view or sewage channel. Flowing from the outlet of the river that had been forced underground, it was only at this outermost section of the underground expanse that no waste had touched the waters. Part of the underground construction for the river was a large pipe in the back right of the wide cave. Spilling chilled winter water into a split channel, the left side went to a line of roofless shacks on a stone platform hewn from the wall where Orcs sporting towels and changes of clothes made their bodies ready for the day while the right side flowed out into a wide pool where baskets of garments, linens, and other items of cloth were being lugged around and washed by the average woman getting their daily cleaning done. The soapy bubbles and streaks of dirt from their labors flowed down to the exit channel that dumped the sullied water back to where it came from.

Walking down the stone steps, we came onto the open plaza that allowed passersby to put off their work with conversations on benches at the sides or standing in small groups. People were still coming in from behind us and the tunnel entrance to the left but we were given some room as we moved through. Both the shacks and pools had stone steps etched into their foundations allowing for easy access, which I promptly took towards the open shack near the middle.

My small team was a known quantity here and the few guards ambling around let us pass without comment. A few pairs of red and gold eyes looked on with interest at my Kelton caretakers. More than one was quite appreciative of the well-fed frames showing beneath the white shirts and between the metal shoulder pads of my men. Even with their goat-like heads, their male essence still came through and I suppose that was enough to warrant interest from some of the Orcs.

For my part, my eyes could only take in the lack of steam in the air. The water was, of course, cold. If there was one thing I bitterly hated about this place it was the lack of heated showers. Carefully walking up the wet stone steps, I grit my teeth as the open shack door came within arm's reach. A flowing shaft of water was directly ahead while two benches lay on each side. Placing my burden down on the right, I proceeded to close the door behind me before stripping. My dirty clothes were immediately thrown to the bench on the left before I took up the cleaning cloth and proceeded with the days torture.

In the middle of rubbing the cleaning cloth with icy water over my skin, a knock at the door interrupted the feeling of prickly skin and shaking fingers.

"The toothbrush and paste, Lady Gula". A guard's rough voice sounded out.

Retrieving my burden from him, I finished the morning chores by dunking my toothbrush in the wall's channel. Spitting the water between the floorboards to join the rest of the polluted stream, I mentally went to where I put my drying towel. When the place my mind brought back was the base of my bed, I slapped my forehead. Left with no options, I rubbed down my body with the cleanest parts of my old shirt. With that travesty finished, I quickly got dressed in the new bra, white shirt, black coat, and brown pants. Gathering up my belongings, my escape back into the open cavern was as quick as I could make it. Freshly abused for the worlds comfort, the men came up beside me as our little group of four made the treacherous climb down. They would have their turn to clean later, but breakfast would not be pushed back.

The men were already chewing on pastries before the youngest black-maned Kelton handed me my favorite, a spinach and cheese-filled roll. Hearty and thick though far cooler than it should have been, it was an entire breakfast in the palm of my hand and a well-earned reward for this torture. Even back in the mud hole, we could at least warm some of the rags up. Grumbling aside, it was another good walk through the nicer housing areas. When our trip took us past the council building, a pair of leather-clad guards with metal shields came up to us from the right.

"The council is ready to meet you, Captain Gula." The younger one with rough brown hair intoned in a respectful voice to the left.

Standing there for a moment, feeling the moisture still around bits of my skin underneath the clothes, I let loose a sigh of irritation. I had yet to get a few items in order at the warehouse and the morning sun was still too low for my tastes. My internal resistence continued before curiosity of what prompted such pushiness got the better of me. And if it wasn't a very good reason, I felt some future trouble on the seas would tragically force me to raise my rates.

The haste continued as we were chaperoned through the double oak doors of the building. A wide-open room with grey walls and wooden floors greeted us. The middle was occupied by a wide half-circle of a desk with three secretaries' seeing to the lines of messenger girls no more than six winters old, with another double door on both sides. A mass of attendants and visitors ambled about while the guards pushed us to the center of the storm.

The middle secretary was clad in a black dress and had her hair in a bun like Sharn, though the sweat down her sharp cheeks, frenzied red eyes, and bit lips above a stubby chin showed a panicked frenzy I had only seen in the life and death struggles of war. Her face cooled down as our group came up to her, moving a stray black strand on her face with a moist hand.

"Ah, yes. You."

Those hands roamed the small mounds of pages around her section of the desk until she pulled one out.

"Captain Gula. You'll be going into the back room."

I had no idea what that meant, but the fact that the Orc guards raised their eyebrows in surprise informed me of how unusual this was. My curiosity now in full swing, our trip took us through the doors on the left. It occurred to me that the wooden hallway we were going down was lit up with sunlight. A quick look up let me see the bare sky through slits in the wooden ceiling, cavern, and building above. It took a moment of contemplation for me to fully appreciate the effort and design that went into making that happen while we continued walking past one delivery girl or another to the door at the end of the hallway.

The front escort opened the entrance for us as we shuffled into a wide space. A long desk in the back held a few chairs with one lone seat in the middle of the room in front of it. When they started ushering us toward the next door directly ahead, my first step was rather hesitant as I internalized that there were no immediate ways out of the building this deep into it. I knew, of course, that meeting the council would involve being surrounded by their guards and in their domain but physically being here like this still disagreed with me. Halfway to the door, I felt the electric sensation of a spirit connection on my left shoulder.

'Is something wrong, Lady Gula?'

'No. Just preferred my office.'

'Everyone is prey at some point, through injury, age, or place. Though I think that end is a bit off for you yet.'

I took a moment to soak in the Kelton cheer before the Orc guard was close enough to open the door for us. We were shepherded into a square office, though it was far warmer than even my abode. On the sides were shelves of books and pages put together in an orderly fashion. Between them lay a red carpet draped over the middle section of the wood floor and under the desk along the backside of the room. The oak beast was almost two of its younger siblings together, though not as big as the one in the main room.

Behind the desk sat three of my kind, the bald lady on the left was a scrawny thing with a white shirt under a red vest. Which matched her eyes showing from a thin pair of copper glasses while on the right sat a priest with an odd garb. She had short grey hair with a sharp chin sticking out above a white square in her black shirt collar. Her black pants matchedthe top though her golden eyes were a bit friendlier than her garb would suggest. I paid little attention to them as the woman in the middle chair demanded my attention.

I'm poor.

Looking at her, those words reverberated through me. A wave of brown hair with only hints of gray, proudly displayed. Fine silver earrings made into flowers were hooped through her small, sharp ears and only served to complement the soft blue jacket and fluffy white undershirt.

"Captain." She said with a smile of red lipstick bellow her small nose, getting up from her chair and brushing her cream-colored pants before extending a hand to me. Given the invitation to approach, I stepped forward to shake her hand. A soft palm untouched by hard labor took mine and our gold eyes met.

The tongue I quickly ran across my lips informed me of how chapped they were. Moisture from my poor excuse of a wash clung to my backside, accompanying the thought that using a spent shirt for a towel was certainly too vulgar for someone of her finery. I was stronger than this woman, probably wealthier if we counted all that I owned and co-owned, and certainly more powerful in both muscle and association. Despite that, she was femininity itself, thriving in its later years as it stewed in confidence and self-assurance. A deep-rooted aspect of our two beings that left me in want.

"Good day." I replied as we completed the gesture. Whatever I was feeling, I forced it down as I took the main seat in front of the desk with whatever dignity could be brought to hand. A moment passed before a spirit connection touched my chest. More unexpectedly, the voice through it was the woman who just shook my hand.

'Captain Gula, my name is Nersa. This is bishop Sally and accountant of coin, Bellog.' She said with a wave to the woman on the right. 'As the head of the council, I must apologize for pushing so much in the correspondence. Events demand secrecy and while I imagine you aren't inclined to keep things from your crew, I can only ask for all possible discretion.'

Eager to get out of here, I could only nod and hope the attempt to make discomfort appear as impatience succeeds. Looking to Sally for a moment, she seemed friendly but reserved.

'So, what's the big problem?' I asked through the spirit connection as I turned back to Nersa.

'The cracks in our foundation. That battle with the pirates and mages was thankfully short but the damage from the boulders being thrown around will last far longer. Our workers and architects say we stand to have almost a third of the enclave's flood if the stonework around the river inlet and sides isn't fixed.'

Shit.

'And how, exactly, does my ship help address this issue? I hope you don't think a jaunt over the seas will be a few days.'

The red-vested woman idly thumbed her white shirt as she looked towards Nersa. A quick glance from the older woman told of an argument being carried out. After a minute, they brought me into the conversation.

'We had a shipment of lye, stone, and other essentials on its way when the Mist pirates decided to put the settlement it was staying at to the torch. Things resistant to fire and too heavy to loot. Most of our reserves have already gone to working the tunnel and-'

A sharp turn of Sally's head stopped as another argument in spirit connections broke out. One conversation I was only halfway in was quite enough for one week, however.

'If you want my help, I have to know everything.' I quickly put in.

Nersa bit her lips for a moment until a spirit connection was established on my right shoulder and what I assumed was Sally's voice came through.

'The architects of the church aren't convinced that concrete will have the load bearing needed to deal with the water pressure. At least not in the volumes that we'll be working with. We're using large wooden poles to hold it up for now. But…'

'But there aren't large blocks of solid stone laying around.' I finished.

The priest shook her head.

'Can you give me an estimate of how long we have?' I asked through both spirit connections.

The other two women turned to Sally, which joined mine. Her shrug wasn't indifferent, more tired than anything else.

'We don't know. They're trying to get an estimate in between keeping it together, but the sooner the better is all they can give me.'

Nersa did a small cough into her fist to bring the attention back to her.

'What is known is what sections of the underground will be affected. Some of the parts in the flooding zone have been damaged in the battle and we've been moving people out of there as quickly as possible. When the time comes to start moving residents out of the undamaged sections, people will start asking questions. Sooner or later, they'll figure out what's going on or a worker's lips will loosen and it will be a mad stampede. Best case is we get the supplies we need. Worst…'

Her voice trailed off as she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Sally had a few of her own, however.

'Even if she manages to get the lost shipment, it's only delaying the inevitable.'

Nersa stuck out her small chin a bit before turning to Sally.

'It gets us time, Christian. Time to get some more room in the tunnels. Time to get a hovel or two shoveled out.'

I raised my hand to the both of them, making them turn to me.

'If I went on this outing, could I even bring the stuff in if I recovered enough?'

A tired voice from the priest answered me.

'Our builders don't just slap pebbles together and call it a day. The tunnel you come in can handle large slabs. We'll even provide you the backs for it if needed.'

Leaning back into my chair, I pondered on the situation. The big question was how much risk I could stomach. Saving this place would be trivial with the true extent of my resources and contacts. My ultimate purpose here, however, was to save my entire species from this hell the Bastard had dropped us in. Millions of future lives thrown into the trash to save several thousand didn't seem like a good exchange to me. Still… As I pondered on how to use Eli's creations it occurred to me that the man was here and openly using his earth magic to summon stone. Most of which involved making crafts for others to do so as well.

'The plant mage,' I declared through both spirit connections. 'He's been making crafts to mold and summon stone. We have men loyal to us looking over him. Seems like a few misplaced tools might be in order.'

Two pairs of gold eyes went wide while Bellog scrunched her eyebrows at her companions. Nersa looked at me like I was growing a second head while Sally was mostly skeptical.

'What?' The council head demanded as she leaned to the left. The red-vested woman had the same dismissive eyes a mother would have at hearing some nonsense from one of her brood.

'We have the stone we need here. It's just not been summoned yet. And I have some equipment to make it happen. But I will need the guard's help.'

Sally leaned forward with both hands meshed together in her black robes.

'You want to steal from a mage.'

I turned to meet her gaze.

'Borrow without bringing back.'

The red-vested woman looked to Nersa, who was biting her lip and looking me up and down. I was careful to show how relaxed about the proposal I was seep through, hoping that confidence lent credence to the proposal. Sally started strumming her fingers on the desk while the leader stood still. The older woman was composed even as the bald companion on her right stared her down with wide red eyes and hard breathing. Silence held on for a moment longer until the head of the council finally spoke in the spirit connection.

'Through what means would-'

A sudden pound on the desk from the red vested woman made everyone jump. She followed it up with a slump back into her chair and a look of disbelief. Being the biggest skeptic, she was the one person more than any other that I had to convince. This time, it was a spirit connection from me that started the conversation.

'Do you think I built my ship by hand?' I asked her and the others. That got me a few raised eyebrows before I continued 'My career as a smuggler started a while back when I realized using a ship made more money than stealing them. Besides being far safer. As a part of my time on the seas, I've collected tools that let me take to the water and stay in it like a fish. I just need a few minutes and a rough outlay of the house.'

The three women looked between each other. Whatever they were discussing, it was at least calm. A few seconds passed before the bald woman turned her red eyes back to me.

'And how, by Garren's grace, does the mage not know some of his tools are missing?'

It took a moment to collect the answer as my focus was on not screaming the hate that name made well up in my throat.

'Mages are human, first and foremost. We can switch out some tools with boards that look similar to the ones he's been making. If a mage being worked to exhaustion finds two or three tools without their enchantments, is he going to think that a thief broke into the home on an open plane of stone with nothing but freezing water around it, or will he curse the bags under his eyes for his forgetfulness?'

Nersa bit her lips in consideration before Sally's grey hair shifted with a nod.

'His stone crafts are just the thing we need, and we could hide them among some trusted teams.'

A small huff from the bald woman drew everyone's gaze.

'The exhausted mage has a sound mind.' She said with a dismissive tone. 'How, exactly, will you get into his house?'

Taking a deep breath, I leaned back into my chair again with as much confidence as I could muster.

'My tools include watercrafts. They let me keep a tunnel in the water to breathe through and provide movement far better than the best swimmers.'

Another round of raised eyebrows greeted the words. No questions about how I obtained them, though. The biggest critic still didn't seem convinced as her index finger idly tapped on the table. Meeting her passive face, I coughed before forcing the conversation in the direction it needed to go.

'Make no mistake, this is the only option. As flattering as your appraisal of my abilities is, my crew can't take on skinners and magical beasts. Those settlements have been getting picked over by the monsters that roam these murderous lands and even if the village that your unfortunate shipment was lost at didn't have them, any attempt to pick it up would attract the predators.'

That made the red-eyed woman pull back with an apprehensive look. A quick look at Nersa was only met with an understanding nod. She closed her eyes before releasing a breath and nodding to no one in particular. The leader of the three women leaned forward with clasped hands, making those silver flower earrings swing.

'This service is extraordinarily dangerous. I don't suppose this will be done in charity?'

'Investment in the future is what I require. A single investment. Back in my younger years, I would have demanded a lump sum,' The slight smiles from the older women let me know what they thought of an Orc less than half their age saying that, but the gestures didn't stop me. 'Now, I just want a portion of… future prospects. Specifically, near the new harbor.'

Scrunched eyebrows greeted my proposal before Nersa coughed and spoke up.

'Would I be wrong to assume you're speaking of the plant mages' domain?'

My simple nod was greeted with a wave of impressed smiles. Most importantly, the biggest critic leaned back with crossed arms and approving red eyes. Sally, however, had a far more motherly reaction.

'You want to live under the mage you've stolen from?' She demanded with raised eyebrows. Her smile was smaller than the others and competed with pursed lips. The bald woman came in with another question at that.

'We've only just started the tunnels. The current plan is to make holds between the seas and the new walls along the road. Making homes under the mage's wall isn't something that's going to be happening for a long while yet.'

'If ever,' Sally put in as she kept her gaze on me. 'You make risky demands. Demands based on things that may not ever happen. You've made a good case, but I do worry how many risks you'd be willing to take living near a male mage. Perhaps even brash enough to attempt a stealing of his seed.'

'I would never attempt such a thing. He's… too dangerous.' I quickly rebutted, almost mentioning the plant mage's infertility that I would have no way of knowing if they didn't. Bellog seemed pretty grim as she threw her thoughts in.

'She is no less brave than anyone who would live underneath a plant scion. Last I recall, we're still working out the details and those discussions don't involve how resilient the nerves of the occupants are. Though, we still don't have specifics on what exactly Gula wants.'

'Just a place made for me.' I offered with a shrug. 'Three floors, the bottom two for business with the top one having direct access to air and wood for walls. All without land tax.'

The last sentence drew a particularly sour frown from the bald woman, surpassing even Nersa's grim expression.

'We can discuss the specifics while we wait for Kev.' She offered before nodding to one of the guards.

The leather-clad warrior promptly left as we haggled. Our oral combat went on for a good hour and only stopped when the first human male I had seen today came in through the door I had taken. Sporting a brown mustache and beard befitting frozen lands, he was strapped in red leather armor that showed beneath a steel breastplate and shoulder guards. Those brown eyes over his thin cheeks immediately went to me. When he finished taking me in, his bare dome of a head shook with his nod to the others. The snort from his thin nose was equally cordial.

"Would I be wrong to assume she's the captain with the only ship than can get in and out of here?" The wave of nods made him come up to the desk. "I don't remember putting in a request for some goods."

Nersa waved away the question.

"We actually require your expertise right now." Her sentence was punctuated by the arrival of a guard with a new chair, which was promptly set on my left. A raised brown eyebrow from Kev was all he returned as he sat beside me. For a minute, his eyes looked between the three council leaders, only near the end did his eyebrows shoot up. A quick glance to me was all I got before he leaned back into his chair with a hand over his mouth, those brown eyes staring down in concentration. We were left to idle for a solid minute before I felt a new spirit connection on my left side.

'A pretty daring plan all around. I suppose with the possibility of the underground flooding, some boldness is called for.' His voice rang out in my head. What threw me off was how he knew about the problem. Looking between them all, Kev guessed the question I didn't ask.

'I'm the former captain of the guard, recently usurped by the cur Fessel. In equal measure, I am the mediator between the Orcs of the city and its human mask. In above ground affairs, I'm the superior. Underground, the inferior. But both sides of the dirt need each other. As for your proposal… It's not as crazy as it sounds.'

That got a round of raised eyebrows from those in attendance of the conversation, including myself.

'He prefers us over the new guards under Fessel. Getting the day and night shift filled without anyone who would say anything will be as easy as signing two or three papers.'

'The plant mage isn't offended by those who taste us?' Sally asked in a neutral tone, though her crossed arms told of a guarded mind. Kev's waving hand dismissed her conclusion.

'Not warm and inviting, that one. But not an idiot either. He knows men who've sired with Orcs are far less likely to be under the pirate's coin, if only because of their disdain for us. He has the typical loathing for your kind as any other mage, up until it costs him.'

I had a brief image of Eli's sweat-drenched face with a smooth ceiling above, his purple eyes wide in ecstasy as his warmth filled me. Blinking away the memory, I crossed my legs and coughed.

'While the guard situation is better than I hoped, that doesn't mean it will be free for the taking. What, exactly, do these crafts look like? What other security measures are there?'

Nersa tapped the desk at my last word.

'Let's get a meager meal. By the time it's ready, I presume we will all be quite famished.'

That reminded me that I hadn't done the morning excursion into the latrine. It was a few minutes of people going and coming as we prepared for a long discussion. More than getting food and drink, we had to wait for detailed descriptions from the guards who had seen the plant mages domain with their own eyes. Eli had used them to haul the crafts several times and we had a decent drawing of the home's layout along with the surrounding area on the desk in short order. A piece of paper that soon became the center of the world for everyone present. Once the last detail was inked on, Kev stood up and ran his fingers over the lines.

'He recently split off the back end with a stone wall and wooden door. Smart, considering a dart or arrow might slip through the front door. Through the door into the section is a hallway going to the back end. On the right is his bedroom. Here,' He pronounced with a finger squarely on the right inner room, just past which lay a tray of breads. 'Opposite of the bedroom is where he stores the goods.'

Not one to turn down free food, I was mostly preoccupied with deciding on how many of the meat-filled rolls I could eat without being rude. The table was going over every detail, and I had to keep up appearances of course, but the greatest threat to me was slipping on a wet rock. Biting into the hard bread with a rather chewy piece of… something akin to pork only stringier, it occurred to me that the guards were taking a big risk as well.

'Kev, I feel we know enough about the buildings. Just as important, if not more so, are the people. When will the mage be out? What about the guards?'

That drew a raised eyebrow from the man as he took a mug of light beer from the left side of the table.

'He typically stays out past dark. The bones of the new tower are made of wood that is stronger than steel, as the chipped swords of our more curious members will attest. That involves a lot of personal touches that only he can perform.

As for the guards, they'll stick to the plan. They may not have an official residence here, but their stake in seeing this finished is as much as any Orcs.'

'I didn't doubt that for a second.' I offered with a raise of my right hand in placation. 'I just wanted to know what happens if the worst occurs. Plans rarely follow the course set out on paper and if the mage should catch me, what's the next step?'

Nersa and the bald woman grew hard faces at that, with the older woman taking a deep breath before using the spirit connection.

'Despite the hatred between us, we need that mage. If it should come down to it, you will be expected to bear the consequences. As will the guards.'

Can't say I expected any different. With the assurance that the men wouldn't do anything stupid, I was ready to move on.

'Fine, I get my head crushed and the guards are whipped. But-'

A snort from Kev interrupted me, which I regarded with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged as he leaned back into his chair with only a bit of the weak winter sun glancing off his bald head.

'I forgot you're new to these lands. If you're caught, they'll be joining you in the afterlife soon after. It's well-established law that those who fail to protect mages against Orcs are hanged.'

'Even non-guards?' I asked with a raised eyebrow, a question Kev answered with a lazy nod.

This law being a mirror to the mandate that forced that loathsome black collar on my neck was my first thought. Chewing on that, an errant thought took root. Eli must have been rubbing off on me, because it seemed weird to expect non-combatants to be a meat shield for someone unknown to them, mage or not. Thinking on it further, I contemplated what such a law said about the kingdom's view of its non-magical citizens. A feeling of momentum took hold of me as the conclusion of weeks of subtle inquiry finally came into view.

'Does that include those who aren't equipped to deal with the situation? Such as it happening too quickly to react?'

Kev's thin nose widened a bit as he gave a dismissive snort.

'If it's a woman… maybe she gets out by 'contributing' to the mages line. A man? A magicless man? Nah. Trash like us is sent to the gallows in short order. Whining won't do you much good.' That was greeted with some sad nods all around.

Some part of my mind suggested slowing this line of questioning down, but the thrill of discovery coursed through my blood and demanded its satiation. Gripping my mug, I forced myself into a semblance of calm before asking the big question.

'What about crimes against a magicless man? Could a mage face punishment from a jury or judge staffed by people with no gift in mana?'

A small laugh escaped his thin lips while he lifted the mug to them.

'I'm not sure a mage can commit a crime against those without magic. Probably too much like kicking a bit of trash in the leadership's eyes.'

There it was. Casually spat out between a chewed roll and summarily drowned by beer, but it arrived all the same. I sat there, trying to appear impassive as the key piece to the biggest puzzle I had found here came into place.

My whole life had been spent fighting the Coalition and their men, be they soldier or citizen, were a near monolithic wall against my kind. So much so that we had to take most men by force to have our children. Here, the human males had given themselves over completely and what proportions or sensual grace we in the swamps lacked to attract them had haunted me since I first found my kind enjoying what I had always dreamed of.

But it wasn't anything we lacked. It's because, for all of its failings, the Coalition mostly kept mages from abusing their weaker counterparts. The words of Eli's story, concerning a trial where a crafter mage was sentenced by some peasant jury, came through as clear as the first time I had heard them. Going over his experiences and all that I had heard over the years, my conviction gradually solidified into something between a belief and an errant suspicion. My mind ran through whatever small scraps I had heard about the human males lives here, but there was precious little to go on besides Kev's comments. If, howev-

'Gula?' Nersa's voice interrupted my thoughts.

Jerking up, I coughed into my free left hand.

'Sorry, got sidetracked on some business with my ship. Please, go on.'

They went on, about patrols and sight lines, things I made an effort to retain. My mind, however, used every moment of silence to go over all the stories I'd heard and experienced, trying to find any notion or instance that went against the theory. The biggest example was Eli. His path to me was painful enough to lead him to the Orcs. And Keltons. Of course it was. Any man who settled for me would have…

I put a stop to the tentacles from the wound in my soul. Nersa's femininity and being in council territory were already unnerving me and this was not the place to have potentially life-changing revelations. Pushing myself to focus on the conversation, it took only a few minutes to buff out our plan's rough edges, with where I would be stationed and how being quickly agreed upon in short order. As swiftly as things came together, Kev still needed another day to get the right men in place.

The chocolate beard shifted over the large sketch one last time, his brown eyes taking in every last detail before leaning back with a satisfied nod.

'Well, I can't say there's anything left to do but start. If you ladies don't have anything else to add.'

A round of nods from us all sent him standing with a smile.

'Then I take my leave. I'll have to get the men with the right nerves in place.'

With that, he turned and left. Feeling thoroughly done with this conversation, I likewise got up.

'Sadly, my time is in similar demand. Unless there's anything else?'

"Yes. A quick signing is all." Nersa said audibly.

A secretary was quickly called and came through the door with a long sheet of paper and a quill with ink.

"Please sign on the dotted line after reviewing the terms."

Perusing the document, it was an agreement for compensation for the 'agreed service'. All worded to be short and faithful to what we had discussed. My meager legal sense couldn't comprehend why we needed a written contract when they were the only people who could enforce it, but I signed off all the same. My ears had only experienced small huffs and scratching paper for a few hours, and it felt a bit weird to hear words through them again.

"Thank you for your time. We all hope this relationship is…fruitful." Nersa offered with her sweetest smile.

Her two companions nodded in agreement. Taking my leave, I went back through the building with my guards. Moving through the hallways took a bit longer as the midday rush was in full swing, but we eventually found ourselves out on the street again and walking up to the tunnel on the right.

'What now?' The older, brown-furred Kelton to my right asked in a spirit connection.

Getting some new leather braces for the Frojan to mold into crafts, sorting the current orders, catching Eli up on current events. I felt pangs of phantom pain in my feet at the prospect of so much walking.

'Back to it.' I replied with as much cheer as I could manage.