“And now no one else will challenge me for fear of aggrieving Algra Strongblood."

Bolut nodded respectfully to Algra who returned the gesture in her usual abrupt fashion.

“I'm sorry, are you sure you're not speaking my Language? I wouldn't have thought that the orcish way of speaking would be so similar to mine. You even have the same word structures." Gregory sensed that someone might be trying to make a fool of him.

Bolut shook his head and turned to the old man who sat beside him.

“That is not how it works." The silvery haired slave informed Gregory with a patient look of wisdom. "The medallion uses what you have said in the same way a wizard would incant a spell. The words you speak become the magic and the magic finds the meaning of those words from your mind. When you speak the magic emanates from the medallion and gives the meaning of what you say to those who listen. It takes words from their minds and arranges them in yours to convey the meaning as best it can."

“That sounds insanely complicated," Gregory remarked.

“It was first crafted by an incredibly clever wizard, though it's a relatively simple spell once you know how it's done, or so I'm told. There are many such medallions made since it's a good way for wizards to make money." The old man informed Gregory with a small smile.

“Well thanks all the same." He said to Bolut before turning to the white haired man beside him once again.

“I'm sorry, I didn't ask you your name last night."

“Iam Emmet." The man helpfully filled in.

“Alright. Well is this all you wanted to talk to me about or was there something else?" Gregory set his empty bowl down in front of him where it was soon plucked up to wash by a passing human.

“Yes, there was something. Do you intend to live here?" The large orc was obviously being careful with his words.

“Well I haven't got anywhere else to go." Gregory replied with a long sigh.

“I'll need to do some travelling soon but I was planning on staying here for a few days Longer. I don't know much about this place or this world. It'd be pretty stupid of me to just jump out there and hope for the best."

Bolut nodded and considered the young man's words for a few long moments.

“If it's a problem then Algra has a camp we could just head back to.” Gregory said causing Algra to perk up with an eager look in her eyes.

“No! No, I'm not trying to be rid of you, master. I'm just not sure that the one who mastered Algra Strongblood should be spending his nights in a tent that is designed for orcs to watch human women dance naked." Bolut tried to put it as tenderly as he could.

Gregory suddenly felt heat rush to his face. It seemed that it was improper for the equivalent of orc nobility to hang around in the equivalent of a strip joint. Who could have guessed?

“Right, ok, we won't sleep in there anymore." He lowered his head and rested his brow in his hand. Algra patted him on the back encouragingly whilst trying not to laugh at his oversight.

“So you will need a tent of your own. We have space here but most of my gold is resting within goods that I still need to sell..." Bolut was obviously dancing around a larger issue.

“Look, I appreciate the medallion. I really do. But right now I'd appreciate blunt honesty much more," Gregory gave the merchant a much needed push.

“Very well. I would Like to know if you intend to make our challenge fixed," Bolut said.

Gregory patted the medallion beneath his t-shirt then looked back up at the big orc.

$s this thing working right? I have no idea what you just meant." “After a challenge is made, often the victor will take what he wishes from the loser and the loser must obey the victor from then on. Yet unless a challenge is fixed the loser may still be challenged by another orc. Fixing a challenge means that you will permanently own Bolut and that anyone who wishes to challenge him will have to issue the challenge to you instead.” Algra supplied the explanation in language far more eloquent than Gregory was used to hearing from her. Then he realised that she was speaking her native tongue rather than the human Language. The medallion was translating flawlessly.

“Oh, I see." Gregory lied.