"Thorn!" Rose exclaimed, rushing towards the Shaman. Before reaching Thorn, she halted, clasped her hands, and bowed her head respectfully.

"Ah, my Rose," Thorn murmured, tenderly placing her hand on Rose's head. "I've missed you, pup."

Richard approached with less enthusiasm, mirroring Rose's respectful gesture. "Good to see you, Shaman Thorn."

“You,” Thorn hissed, her voice dripping with disbelief, “serving imps and humans?” She scrutinized Richard, who looked back in confusion. “Have the mighty Orcs truly stooped to servitude?”

Richard's anger flared. "Servitude! We were mere pawns to warlords, thrown into battle to die!"

Thorn's eyes blazed with anger, "We are warriors! Fighters hired for battle!"

Not backing down, Richard looked up at Thorn with defiance, "Fodder to die for those who didn't fight."

Rose spoke up gently, "We have this now." She gestured to the tent.

Thorn surveyed the large tent with disdain. “And what in the fifteen hells is this?” She gestured broadly with her arms.

“Well, this is our Orc Cafe,” Richard managed, his anger subsiding slightly.

“Orc what?” Thorn's glare intensified as she looked down at Richard.

“Our restaurant,” Rose said.

“Restaurant?” Thorn's sharp gaze returned to Rose.

Bob leaned toward Batty, “Hey, Batty, make Thorn a big cup of black coffee.”

Batty whispered back, “Shouldn’t we try a Vanilla Latte.”

“No, she’s too sour for anything sweet,” Bob reasoned.

Batty looked back at the old Orc shaman towering over Richard and Rose. “Good point.” Batty rushed to the coffee station and began brewing a fresh black coffee.

“Hey, Ben,” Bob whispered, “You and Betty go make Thorn two hot dogs and a large portion of fries. Salt the fries real good.”

“Salty for the salty,” Ben quipped as she and Betty saluted and rushed to prepare the food.

Rick started to walk forward, but Bob put his hand on the imp’s head. He looked down and shook his head, “No, little cousin, it’s not a good idea.” Rick nodded.

Thorn inhaled, “So you're telling me you cook and sell food to whoever comes into this tent.”

“Yes,” Rose and Richard said together.

“And humans, imps, and whoever pays you gold,” Thorn said, shaking her head.

“Yes,” Rose and Richard said together.

“You don’t rob, kill, or raid?” Thorn said.

“Correct,” Rose and Richard said together.

Thorn crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She looked around the tent at the tables, human, imps, and Orcs. She looked at Richard and scowled. She wasn’t happy. She looked at Rose, and her gaze softened. Rose looked so much like her mother. Thorn felt the ache of sadness grip her heart. Another friend of many lost.

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“Thorn, we don’t have to fight,” Rose pleaded.

“Our way is fighting,” Thorn scolded.

Feeling like this was a conversation he’d had before, Richard jumped in, “It was our way, but it’s not working. We lose more than we gain. We’ve had raids where half the party was wounded and no gold to show for it.”

Before Thorn could respond to Richard, Bob walked up with a chest. He dropped the heavy chest in front of Thorn, surprising the Shaman. Bob bowed his head and flipped the chest open, showing the large amount of gold inside. “One day,” he said with a large toothy grin.

Thorn looked down at the chest full of gold, “One day? That’s a stupid amount of gold.” She could count, but she couldn’t count that high.

“It gets better,” Richard said, “We can do this every day. No fighting. And if we change our mind, we can rob all of them.”

Thorn's gaze shifted from the gold back to Richard. She tapped her foot more. She liked the gold. She really liked the gold, but this was too easy. Easy wasn’t the Orc way.

“You should have started with the gold,” Thorn said as she relaxed her tense body. Gold meant security. Gold meant a future they didn’t have before.

An imp walked up to Thorn, bowed his head respectfully, and held up a basket of food. The Shaman looked down at the imp, “What is this little cousin?”

“Hot dogs and fries,” Rick said in awe of the larger-than-life orc.

“Dog?!?” Thorn shouted. She looked up at Richard.

“It’s not dog!” Rose, Richard, and Bob shouted.

Richard jumped in quickly, “It’s not dog. Just a stupid name the stupid humans used.”

“Then what is it?” Thorn asked.

The orcs looked at each other. They never asked. The butcher brought them but never said what they actually were.

“It’s a sausage wrapped in bread,” Richard clarified.

Thorn hummed, “And what’s a sausage?” Giving the Orcs an intense glare. Rose and Richard shrugged.

“It’s beef, chicken, and pork mixed into a tube,” Rick said.

“What?” Rose asked, looking down at her little imp.

“I can taste each of them in it,” Rick said, giving Rose a big, toothy smile.

"Efficient," Thorn acknowledged, settling at the nearest table with the food. Rose, Rick, and Richard gathered around her. Bob went back to their table with the others. He wanted some distance between him and the Shaman, just in case.

Thorn took a bite of a hot dog and then jammed some fries into her mouth. She liked the salty fries, but the hot dog needed something. It was bland, good, but not seasoned.

Batty brought over the coffee, “Here ya go.” She gave the Shaman a big smile.

Thorn looked down at the black liquid; she inhaled deeply, “Is this coffee?” She picked up the cup and took a long draw from it. “Ah, I haven’t had black coffee in ages.” She looked at Batty and sniffed, “You girl, you a Battleax?”

Batty was surprised, “Yes. My father is the Legendary Battleax from the Battleax region. How did you know?”

“I can smell the ax on you,” Thorn said.

“Well, I do bathe,” Batty countered.

Thorn shuddered, “Ug, bathe. You can’t scrub the smell of ax off ya girl. It’s a deep thing. It’s part of you.”

Before Batty could respond, Mick came forward quickly with a cup of water and the sauces. He gave a deep bow and ran off.

“What’s this?” Thorn asked.

“Sauces,” Batty said, “for the dogs and the fries.”

Thorn looked at the sauces, onions, and relish. “Sauces made by your father?”

“Yes,” Batty said proudly.

Thorn hummed, “I’m old, girl, and can’t see very well. Which one is the hot one? Your father is known for his hot sauces.”

Batty pointed at the red bottle. Thorn picked up the bottle and smothered her hot dogs and fries with it. She took her first bite of a spicy hot dog and hummed. She began to jam the spicy fries into her mouth while she hummed. Once the food was gone, she licked her fingers, “Richard, I’m not going to kill you today.” The chief signed in relief, “This is the best flockox food I’ve ever had besides the old chief’s ribs,” Thorn declared, setting aside her previous disdain.

Rose blushed at the harsh language used by the old Shaman. She was happy the Shaman was going to give them a chance.

“Hey Rose,” Rick said, “What’s flockox mean?”

Rose's cheeks flushed as she exclaimed, "Don't say that!"

Thorn laughed, “I’ll tell you when you're older, little cousin.” (Yes, Dear Reader, that’s a story for another day.)