“What?” exclaimed Bob, his tone thick with disbelief.

“We met a Dwarf Fae who’s married to a dragon,” Rose repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Wow,” Bob said, “we met some odd humans, but nothing like that. What about you, Richard? You’ve been quiet since we left town.”

Richard looked at his companions. “I met the legendary Battleax of the Battleax clan from the region of Battleax and his children. The wings were excellent.”

Bob and Rose looked at each other and then said together, “What?”

Richard nodded. “Yep. My father’s nemesis is now my nemesis. Practically family, apparently.”

Bob and Rose just stared at Richard. This wasn’t what they were expecting to hear. Battleax was a legend. They didn’t think he would be in this town.

“So, he was at the tavern. Is there a battle? Do we need to be prepared?” Rose asked, concerned.

“No, he’s the owner and the cook. His children help run the tavern,” Richard said.

“He’s the cook?” Bob asked. “I heard barbarians are good with sauces.” He licked his lips, thinking of how they could use sauces.

“After sampling the wings, I agree with that,” Richard said, still feeling the heat in his mouth. Richard walked silently for several minutes. “He talked about my father. They were friends.” Rose and Bob walked in silence, allowing Richard to share his thoughts. “He asked if we did any barbequing. Apparently, my father was famous for it during the war.”

“He did the best barbeque,” Bob said, “Best I ever had.” Rose nodded in agreement. After a big hunt, they gathered around while he prepared the tribe a big meal. It had been a long time since they could do that.

“Maybe we should start doing a barbecue too. We don’t have to limit ourselves to only breakfast,” Richard said. Bob’s eyes widened with the prospect of more gold. “I helped my father the last few times before he died.”

“We could use the bread and make sandwiches,” Bob blurted out.

“Not a bad idea. We also need a name,” Richard said.

“We could call it barbecue sandwiches,” Bob proudly declared.

“No, a name for our, uh,“ Richard gestured broadly, pausing to think, “for our restaurant.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” Rose said. “How about Orc Breakfast and Coffee?”

“To the point, I like it.” Bob said, “Or how about Orc Cooking?”

Richard looked at Bob. “Stick with counting. I was thinking Orc Cafe.”

“What’s a cafe?” Bob asked.

“I know; it’s one of those places where you have to hold your pinkie out when you drink your beer,” Rose said, “Fancy.”

Bob looked at his hands. “Why?”

“It’s,” Rose paused, “sophisticated?”

“Rose knows big words,” Rick said with a wide grin.

Mick nodded and whispered, “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” Rick whispered back, “but it’s pretty when Rose says it.”

The group started brainstorming for names.

“Orc’s Iron Stew Tavern,” said Bob.

“No,” said the others.

“The Grunting Boar Grill,” said Rick.

“Not bad,” said Bob.

“The Grub House,” said Richard.

“No,” said the others.

“The Battleaxe Banquet,” said Bob.

“Battleax would get mad; we don’t want that,” Richard said, thinking about the insane eyes of the barbarian.

“The Cleft of Shadow Café,” said Rose

“Oh, mysterious,” said Richard; he continued with the idea, “Dire Brews & Dark Delights.”

“No, that sounds like you’d get poisoned,” Rose countered.

“Mick Orcs,” Said Mick.

“Shut up, Mick,” Richard barked.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“The Green Skin Gourmet,” Said Mick

“Kinda racist.” said Rose, “Were you dropped on your head as a child?”

“Yes!” Rick said with excitement, “It was one of our favorite games. Drop Mick on The Head! We still play it; you should join sometime.”

“That explains a lot,” said Rose.

Bob raised his hand, “Count me in. I’ll join.”

“Bob!” Rose exclaimed.

“What? Not like it’s going to make him any dumber,” Bob snickered, “Might help his sense of direction. How about ‘The Sizzling Imp’?” Bob sneered at the imps. Both looked down.

“Stop picking on them!” Rose scorned Bob with a threatening glare.

Richard interrupted the bickering with, “Warchief’s Feasting Hall.”

“No,” said the others.

“Tusk ‘n’ Taters Tavern,” said Bob.

“Not bad,” said Richard.

“Blood Fury and Breakfast,” said Rick.

“No,” said Rose.

“I don’t know, I like it,” Bob said as Richard nodded in agreement.

“Orc Cafe,” Richard said again.

“I do like that,” Rose said.

“Me too, unless we have to hold our pinkies out,” Bob said, holding out his pinkie. This caused the imps to giggle, which caused the orcs to bust out in laughter.

“Fine. Our name will be The Orc Cafe.” Richard said, “We need a sign. Anyone know how to write?”

The Orcs and Imps all nodded no.

“Well, what’s a good thing about gold?” Richard asked.

“The way it sounds in a chest full of gold,” Bob said with a twinkle in his eyes. Rose rolled her eyes.

“Well, yes, and we can hire someone to help,” Richard said. Everyone smiled; they had a plan. Richards walked silently for several minutes, then said, “It feels odd.”

“What does Chief?” Rose asked, looking around for danger.

“We didn’t rob for the gold. Now people give us the gold, and we use it to buy things beyond the basics we need.” Richard said.

“We give them good food for that gold,” Bob said proudly.

“True, but what do you mean, Chief? Beyond the basics?” Rose asked.

“We stole gold and hoarded it. We traded with the few races that would trade with us and buy what we couldn’t trade for. We had to be careful with our gold and food. But, now we are buying a sign.” Richard said.

“This is a good thing, Chief,” Rose said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “This could be our way now.”

“Our way was war,” Richard growled.

“Yes, our parents’ way was war. They had land, security, and gold.” Rose said, her voice began to have an edge, “Then they went to war. The Orc War almost wiped us out. They wanted too much, and now we have to pay the price. Our children’s children will pay a higher price unless we do something.”

“What price?” Asked Richard, who was now focused on Rose.

“The last clan meetings we had, there were fewer of us. Our children’s children could be the last.” Rose said with sorrow, “Our parents wanted more. They went to war for it.”

“We are Orcs; we take!” Richard’s sudden outburst startled the others.

“Yes, that was our parent’s way,'' retorted Rose, “They tried to take it, and it cost us. Do you think the Barbarians could take what they want? Don’t you think Battleaxe could announce he is the town’s mayor, and no one would disagree?”

“I think they elect the mayor,” said Richard, now losing some of his anger.

“Yes, and would Battleaxe win if he said so?” Rose sneered. Richard nodded in agreement. “Even the dragon we met would probably look the other way. They don’t take; they work with the other races.”

“But we only know war,” growled Richard.

“No, our parents knew war. They went to war, and some came back. They became mercenaries, and fewer came back. The ones that did were crippled and told stories of victory. Some of us tried to follow what they did, and fewer came back. Your brother, my sisters. Bob?” Rose looked at Bob.

“I came back, uh, with some broken bits, but,” Bob kicked a rock, “None of my brothers did.”

“Our children will not survive unless we change,” Rose announced, “My mentors, Thorn and Bramble, trained me and my sisters to be shamans. I’m all that’s left. I have a few younglings, but none have any drive to learn.”

“Lazy,” Sneered Bob.

“No, they are broken. They know they will have nothing. We barely survive. They know they won’t. I was named Rose because Thorn and Bramble wanted me to be the hope they needed. Bramble never came back. Thorn may be gone before I get back to the village.” Rose felt tears form in her eyes. Rick waved to her, and she waved back with a smile.

“Fine!” Richard exploded, “The great Orcs, reduced to cooking for imps!” He gestured towards the imps on the cart, who seemed unusually interested in their own feet.

“No!” Rose shouted back, “We do what we are good at, not war, cooking. We have what we need to make a better life for our children.” Rose lowered her voice, “Your father was respected by the barbarians not only for his warrior skills but his barbeque.”

“It was good,” Richard admitted, while Bob nodded in agreement.

“And we make the best breakfast in the entire world,” Rose said.

“Damn right!” Bob shouted, pumping his fist in the air, “We are Orcs! Orcs! Orcs! Orcs!”

Rose and Richard joined in, “Orcs! Orcs! Orcs!” The imps did too.

“Ok, fine, we cook and save our people,” Richard said, throwing his hands up in the air.

“No, but it’s a start,” Rose said, smiling.

“But, our ancestors….” Richard began.

Rose interrupted him, “They will be proud. We will conquer the world with breakfast.”

“Breakfast! Breakfast!” Chanted Mick.

“Shut Mick,” Bob shouted with a laugh.

“Ah, I like to chant; it’s fun,” Mick said with a disappointing frown.

Rose and Richard laughed. Rose said, “Save it for the morning. I’m expecting more crowds.”

“Now, that is what I want to hear. You two smart Orcs worry too much.” Bob said.

“And what does the Great Orc Bob worry about?” Asked Richard. “Counting higher?”

Bob smiled, “Yes. I’m at fifty now and didn’t have to restart.” He looked up, “And rain.”

“Rain?” Rose asked. Richard looked at Bob, confused.

“Orc Cafe is outside. Rain would mean no customers.” Bob said. Rose and Richards’s eyes went wide with the realization. They both looked up at the sky as the first sound of thunder rolled across the land.

“I hate you, Bob,” Richard growled.