Ilya eventually returned to Blake's tent with a basket full of food. She set to work cooking in silence, expression difficult for Blake to read. Again he was tempted to gain her trust and smooth things over with Mental Influence, but took a deep breath and decided against it for the moment.

"My name is Blake," he said, and Ilya froze. "I'm from a human settlement to the West. There's only a few hundred of us, and I'd never even seen an orc until your people attacked mine. That’s the truth."

The orc's face scrunched and she turned to look at him. "Attacked you? We don't leave the towers in numbers. Our warriors only exist to protect us, to protect the holy stones."

Blake shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. I saw it with my own eyes. Fifty orcs? Maybe more. They attacked mostly unarmed women who had no interest in a fight. If it wasn't for my brother and the warriors of my town..."

"I don't believe you," Ilya hissed, going back to chopping vegetables and angrily tossing them into her pot.

Blake sighed, and thought back to all the names of the orcs he'd touched or controlled. "They weren't all Blacktusks. There were Stonebloods. Redfists. Oh and there were many families and tribes. Uh. Hargots? I don’t know how to pronounce any of this. Chlek-tay? Chleek-tee?"

Ilya slowly turned back, looking far more convinced. "How could you know warrens family names? Not even tower orcs would."

"How indeed." Blake adjusted himself slightly, trying to get comfortable. "I've told you—they attacked us, and I touched their minds with my magic. Before that I knew nothing of your people, or this King Gromsh. I came here with others to try and stop your people from killing mine, that's all. Then somehow Gromsh trapped me in the tower. Now my only way out is to kill him. I suspect he's the reason for all this mess."

Ilya sat in silence awhile, fiddling with something that looked like potatoes. "I'd heard...rumors,” she said finally. “Of a raid. That the Blacktusks were paying any orc who could step through the waygates. I...didn't believe it."

"Don’t worry, we humans are no better," Blake sighed, finding a position that eased the pain. "We love enemies, real or imagined. We kill each other. We kill ourselves. It seems to be the way of things."

"Where do your people come from?" Ilya asked, voice a little softer now. "Why have we never seen you before?"

Blake practically snorted, no idea how to answer that. How did you tell someone they were the sudden creation of a god-like robot? That everything you were and ever had been was a fiction, a lie, some creature's...world-building?

"We were...put here," Blake said, deciding the opposite of the truth would be as close as he could get. "Some kind of god is testing this world, and it's using us."

"What does that mean?" Ilya said quietly, clearly worried.

"It means your people were probably right to try and kill us," Blake said, meeting her eyes. "It means our gods are giving us divine commands, which we follow almost without thought, and if one day they command my people to kill yours, they'll likely do it as mindlessly as your raiders tried to kill mine."

Ilya’s strange, but beautiful eyes went down.

"But...why would they? What have we ever done to them? To you? Why are your human gods doing this?"

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"I've no idea, Ilya,” Blake said very honestly. “I have no more respect for them than you. But here we are." He took in a deep breath and forced himself up. "That's starting to smell rather good."

Ilya stirred her pot, shoulders slumping in a defeated shrug. Blake moved a little closer.

"Ilya, I don't hate your people. If I survive this I'm going to try and stop any more fighting, that's a promise."

The orc met his eyes, clearly conflicted, and maybe afraid.

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't know," Blake again said honestly. "Maybe because...I don't see much difference between us. Because life is hard enough. Because maybe orc and human might need each other and I don’t want to waste resources. It's a big world and I see no reason to make enemies when you could make friends."

Ilya smiled a little at that. She dished some of her soup into a bowl and blew on it. "You're pale. It's not cooked but you can drink a little broth at least. Blay-k."

Blake grinned and took the bowl, rather surprised how not-near-dead he felt, and soon slurped with abandon.

* * *

Ilya's friend eventually returned, and was considerably less reasonable than Ilya. After several minutes of not even looking at Blake, then angrily confronting Ilya about housing a 'traitor' and why she shouldn't go to the chiefs right this second? Blake decided things were getting too far out of hand. He wrapped the orc's mind in thick layers of Mental Influence, smothering her with Trust and Calm and even Greed.

"You'll be rewarded, Ferrah," Blake promised, and the girl finally squinted and met his eyes. "When this is all over, I won't forget those who helped me."

"I must be out of my mind," she said, running her hands through thick dark hair, dropping to a nearby stool.

Ilya looked at her friend with surprise, eyes drifting somewhat suspiciously towards Blake. He shrugged as if to say 'what else could I do?' before eating more soup and sleeping again.

The next 'day' (Blake had no idea what time it was in this place), Ilya said he was healing shockingly well but needed to move his body. She helped him take a long walk through the orc 'city', which seemed an almost endless series of cheap dwellings, moving vendors, and strange, underground life.

On the 'outskirts' she showed him huge caverns of agricultural land, filled with all kinds of plants that grew beneath the earth, and the many domesticated animals raised with it.

Blake was amazed by it all, soon eager to see how these creatures lived. They had mines, crafters, merchants, a caste system of peasants, warriors, nobles, and even priests, or shamans, that attended to the orcs' religious life. They had their own water and waste with underground rivers, and were apparently entirely self-sustaining, needing only to harvest wood from the nearby forest.

"What's this?" he asked, as they passed a completely closed off entrance to what seemed a kind of mine.

"Ancient tunnels," Ilya said, with a small shudder. "Where the demon and his minions emerged. Every now and then a new orc lord tries to destroy them forever, but always fails. There is dark magic there. But if we stay away, it doesn't hurt us."

Intrigued, Blake moved closer until Ilya was practically pulling him away. "Did you not hear what I told you?" she said, looking to make sure no one was watching. Blake ignored her and moved to the wooden boards covering the hole, an intuitive urge to touch it and see...

[Secret Dungeon discovered! Ancient Orc Mine. Do you wish to enter now?]

Blake smiled and removed his hand, letting Ilya pull him back towards their tent. "It's a dungeon," he explained, not surprised when the girl's eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're right,” he added, “it's a kind of...magic place, other worldly. A person can go inside and disappear to an entirely new area, and find great dangers and rewards."

This only made the orc girl stare at the 'mine' with renewed suspicion and distaste, and Blake couldn't help but laugh. "Come on," he said, pulling her on. "I'm tired. And hungry. And getting slightly addicted to your magnificent soup."

Ilya smiled shyly, very pleased as ever it seemed with any kind of praise. Blake was beginning to understand that orc culture was extremely male and warrior-centric, and considered almost anything else as 'beneath' that highest pursuit. There were some few female warriors, almost like 'Shield-maidens' in Norse culture. But most women were seen as lesser creatures, only as important as their family name. And Ilya's family was gone.

The old Blake would have accepted this fact as useful. And he supposed the current Blake did, too. But another tiny part of him also chaffed at the thought of this kind, beautiful creature, who had saved his life, being treated as a leper.

It was a strange thought, and he wasn't sure what to do with it. But for now all he knew was it cost him nothing to be kind.