Garrok slowly regained consciousness, his head pounding from exhaustion. As he opened his eyes, he found himself lying in a comfortable bed inside the fort's hospital. Tink, still bruised and battered, sat in a chair beside him, her eyes filled with relief.

"You're awake," she said, a small smile forming on her lips. "You had us all worried there for a moment."

Garrok tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over him. "Easy now," Tink cautioned, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"How long was I out?" Garrok asked, his voice weak.

"A day and a half," Tink replied. "The captain ordered the healers to tend to us as soon as we arrived. He said you showed exceptional bravery and resourcefulness."

Garrok nodded, a sense of pride welling up within him. But his mind quickly shifted to Tink's condition.

"What about you?" he asked with concern.

Tink grinned, trying to downplay her injuries. "It's not as bad as it looks. Just some bruising and rope burns on my wrist. Honestly, it's my pride that's hurt the most. I lost my crossbow, and I got caught."

Garrok's face tightened with worry. "What happened, Tink? How did they catch you?"

Tink's expression turned pensive. "I got careless, Gar. I was hiding in the shadows, shooting my crossbow at any passing orc that caught my eye. But one orc carrying a lit torch got too close. When I took a shot at him and missed, he dropped the torch near me, revealing my hiding spot. Instead of reaching for my pistol, I foolishly tried to reload my crossbow. The orc attacked me with a mace, and my crossbow was destroyed. I was captured, and you know the rest."

She shivers and crosses her arms, “Gar, that goblin. He said that he was going to sell me, that I was going to make them more sons to replace those we killed.” She wipes the tears that were forming in her eyes and beams a bright smile at him. “But you came for me, you came and saved me.” She takes hold of his hand. “From this day on, I will follow you. From now on, I’ve got your back. I’m your girl, and you won’t get rid of me that easily.” She says in her most sincere voice.

Garrok stared at Tink in shock, the weight of her oath sinking in. Declarations of loyalty were not given lightly, and he understood the significance of her words. He looked at the hand holding his and slowly transformed his shock into a warm smile.

"Are you sure about this, Tink?" he asked, his voice filled with sincerity. "This is not something you can take back easily."

Tink's gaze met his, her eyes unwavering. "I've never been surer in my life," she replied. "Besides, like I said, you big lug, you won't get rid of me that easily."

An air of comfortable silence enveloped them as they locked eyes, their unspoken bond strengthening. But their moment was interrupted by a loud throat-clearing sound nearby.

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Both Garrok and Tink looked up in confusion and saw Captain Firebeard, Sgt. Stoneheart, and a human standing nearby. The human, dressed in a distinguished military attire, addressed them with a hint of amusement.

"I believe a hospital filled with injured patients is not the most appropriate place for such declarations, yes?" the human deadpanned, a slight grin on his face.

The captain watched on with amusement while the sergeant struggled to contain his laughter. Garrok and Tink realized that they had drawn the attention of everyone in the room, their conversation halting the bustling activity of the hospital.

"Eep!" Tink squealed, jumping from her seat and running out of the hospital, her hands covering her face. "Nooo!"

The captain and his companions approached Garrok's bedside, the human's distinctive military attire catching Garrok's attention. He wears a dark green jacket with decorative braiding along the front edges and cuff. He has a wolf-fur trimmed pelisse hanging over his left shoulder. His white trousers were tucked into knee-high boots and decorated with lace. His fox-fur cap has a plume of feathers on the top. A red sash across his chest, and a waist belt with a pistol and saber. His brown hair and beard are well trimmed, and his thick mustache is waxed and groomed.

“Well, you certainly don’t waste any time, do you Master Smith?” The captain muses. “How are you feeling?”

“Urgh!” Garrok grunts “Groggy but hale. What about the orcs and goblins? Have we dealt with them?" he inquired, concern etched on his face.

“Ha! We killed most of the filthy Cyka! Though a few managed to retreat back to their camp.”

The human exclaims. Garrok stares at the human then at the captain.

"I apologize for the interruption," the captain said with a chuckle. "Allow me to introduce Hetman Yaroslav Petrovich, the commander of the force of human light cavalry that came to our aid."

The Hetman raised his right hand, palm facing down, and touched the brim of his hat, giving Garrok a salute of respect.

“Thank you for saving us Hetman, if you hadn’t arrived when you did, we would have been overtaken.” Garrok says gratefully.

“None of that now друг!” The Hetman replies with respect. “You may be Orc-blooded, but any уважаемый who accomplishes such an impossible task is a real man, and therefore deserves respect.”

The Hetman smiles warmly. “After the battle, you chased the orcs to rescue your товарищ. You sneaked into the enemy camp, killed a few sentries and an interrogator, all while undetected. Then you escaped and killed several of your pursuers, back to friendly lines. And you accomplished this, while exhausted and injured from the battle. You are a real man! If you were one of my men you would be deserving of a medal and promotion. You need not fear any of my men dear Garrok, you have more than earned our respect.”

Garrok was shocked at the praise. Normally humans would give him cold looks or barely restrained hostility, as Half-orcs like him were usually the bastard results of Orcs forcing themselves on women from other races.

"Thank you, sir," Garrok replied humbly.

The captain stepped in, a proud smile on his face. "Well then, you'll be happy to know that I've decided to put Garrok's name forward for an award in my report to the king."

Garrok's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Thank you, Captain. I... I don't know what to say."

"Just get well soon, you grey bastard," the captain teased lightheartedly. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

The captain leaned closer to Garrok and whispered conspiratorially, "Also, don't be surprised if you receive an invitation to become an honorary member of the Gunsmith's Guild. They might even request you to demonstrate your designs."

Garrok's stammered response showed his astonishment. The Dwarven Gunsmith's Guild was prestigious among the dwarves, and membership was typically reserved for the most accomplished gunsmith's. The fact that they were willing to extend membership to a non-dwarf was unprecedented and a great honor.

"Wow... Thank you," Garrok managed to utter.

Taking a deep breath, Garrok realized that with Tink's oath, she would be accompanying him on his future endeavors.

"Tink is going to need a new gun," he said, his mind already turning to the practical matters at hand.