“I will explain." Algra's voice. She had left Gregory's tent upon seeing the arrival of her uncle and was moving to head off any undue rages that might follow.

“No.” Gregory held up his hand and Algra halted immediately whilst casting a questioning look over her shoulder at him. "This is my fault."

The female orc growled in quick defiance at her master's assessment of the situation.

“It is not-" she began.

"It is. I had Freddie released here. Into my care. He escaped because I didn't think to post a guard and I was too caught up in other things to even realise that I'd left the ring practically out in the open. It was stupid. It was my fault." Gregory Looked up to the big warchief whose eyes had fallen upon his chest where the ring now hung.

“What happened?" The great orc curled his lip over a large tusk and folded his arms across his massive chest as he regarded Gregory.

"Freddie escaped. I don't know how he got free. I changed my clothes and forgot I'd left the ring in my pocket. He found it and put it on. He thought that because it brought us here that it would send us home... or at Least send him home. I lost control of myself.” Gregory felt Algra's hand upon his shoulder and realised that he was talking too fast. His breaths were becoming difficult as he relived the horrifying sight of Freddie igniting from within after being beaten bloody by Gregory's own fists.

He stopped and closed his eyes tightly to keep from Losing control and then when his gaze settled back upon Grolfir it was calm and steady. "I beat him. He was saying awful things about what he'd do to Janette and I couldn't hold myself back. I felt his face breaking on my fists and I couldn't... I couldn't stop it.” Algra‘’s hand squeezed reassuringly against his tight muscle.

“I realised what I'd done and scrambled to get away. Freddie managed to put the ring on and he..."

"The ring has great power. It burned the mad child to nothing but ashes before our eyes." Algra's voice cut in so that Gregory did not have to finish. Her words were cold and clinical. A soldier's report.

Gregory found himself suddenly very grateful to the beautiful orc. "Show me where the fool was bound," Grolfir ordered after a moment of thought. His eyes never veering away from Gregory's.

The words sparked a sudden clarity of focus in the young man's mind. He too wanted to know how Freddie had managed to free himself. The last time he'd seen the disturbed boy, he'd been chained up to an iron post. Freddie didn't exactly strike him as the most adept of escape artists and so the question of how he gained his freedom was definitely relevant.

Without a word, Gregory nodded to the warchief and turned to lead them along the tents of Bolut's camp to where Freddie had been shackled. What he saw when he came to the iron post made him freeze in his tracks. Torren, the young blacksmith, was stood in front of the post whilst scratching his chin. He hadn't noticed the approach of the others as he regarded what once had been a very long length of iron embedded into the earth.

Instead of the smooth iron post, there was nothing but a badly rusted heap of iron shavings. It was as if the post itself had been almost wholly disintegrated.

"Sorcerer," Grolfir growled.

"No." Gregory shook his head. "There's no way that Freddie could have done this. He didn't know anything about magic. He was just about the most un-magical person you could imagine."

Gregory took a few steps forwards and crouched by the crumbled remains of the post. There was a strong smell of sulphur in the air close to the ruined iron. He didn't like that one little bit. He then turned to look at Torren, who had by now noticed that he was in the presence of his master and the warchief himself. His face suddenly paled at the realisation.

“Do you know anything that could have done this to iron?" At Gregory's words, all eyes turned to the smith.

“N-no! No sir. I couldn't do this m'self if I wanted to. I forged that post. It was a simple job. Used the same stuff I forged this shield from." He quickly stepped inside his own tent for a moment before emerging with a perfectly fine looking iron shield. He looked over the metal to see if there were any signs of sudden decay when a thought occurred to him.

“Unless...”

Torren stopped himself as the ramifications of his train of thought suddenly became clear. The many sets of eyes resting upon him suddenly made him become very nervous to the point where he Lifted his shield up to his nose.

“Torren, what is it? It's alright if you made a mistake." Gregory meant it. Though he would have been somewhat shocked if that had been the case. Torren might have been a little bit of a shy klutz but it was obvious that he knew his trade well.

“Master it's..." he hesitated yet again, glancing nervously to the warchief.

“Speak boy!" Grolfir suddenly bellowed and made half of those in attendance jump with fright.

“I remember I have seen something Like this before. I'd got this chunk of metal jammed in a frame I'd worked up for a cart. Couldn't budge the thing. So I went to Valise and she had this potion. It just ate through the metal so I could get it out. When the chunk broke free it Looked a bit like..." He nodded toward the rusted scraps of the metal shaft.