"I'd heard." He nodded.

“And you know you guys weren't the only ones those two fooled, right? I just came from a meeting where nearly half the orcs in the place were ardent Wren supporters before he showed his true colours."

“That is true, but it does not excuse our foolishness or theirs. I think it their responsibility to repair the damage done by Wren, but it is ours to make up for the actions of Rolk. We have heard tell around camp that you might venture out from Embervine in the future. It is our hope that if that time comes; you will take us with you to serve. We are unproven, but we will help you in whatever way we can until you no longer have need of us."

“Are you sure about that? I am planning a journey at some point in the future, but I don't know how long it'll take and I'm not sure if I'll return here. You'd be waiting a hell of a long time before you get your proving if you come with me."

“Rolk Left much to make amends for, and in the time we have known you, you have shown yourself to be an honourable man. So we shall restore our honour in service until we die, or until we feel that we are redeemed."

“If that's the way you feel, then I'll be glad to have you. Keep up your duties in guarding the camp, and I'm giving the Dragons the rest of the day and tomorrow to themselves. After that we're resuming training and I'm reopening the glade. I expect you both there at dawn, along with Murgur as soon as Valise clears him."

“Master, we will do as you ask, but the other packs-"

"The other packs will probably be ready to throw some serious hostility your way, but that's something you'll have to deal with. If you're going to guard my home as well as you've been doing so far, then you can't just be standing around all day getting fat and Lazy."

"Yes, sir!" Both Ishka and Gratox stood up straighter at the implication that they might not live up to their promise.

“Good. Now if that's all then I need to be going. Oh, and if you Like, all three of you can wear my colours. Welcome to the family."

With that, he strode past them and into his camp. The Dragons had already relayed the news of Wren's demise, and a few of the slaves and several orcs who had moved to show their support all offered him gestures of congratulations upon his return. There was still too much grief in the camp for it to be considered a celebration, but it was nice to spend some time with his friends before his next appointment.

After excusing himself of the Last conversation, he moved toward the blacksmith's tent and dipped his head under the entrance to find Talina sat on Torren's bed of furs. She looked very small, and hadn't yet cleaned herself after her battle with Wren. The blades were still blackened with his blood, as were the chains binding them to the bracers on her wrists. Even then, all she was garbed in was her usual minimal clothing. She was staring at her lover's tools vacantly.

“Hello, Talina," he said.

“Hello, master." She spoke without hesitation, and with a firmness that contrasted her jaded demeanour.

It might have been un-nerving for someone to be sharing a tent with such a talented killer who was clearly having emotional problems. The vacant look in Talina's eyes was indeed concerning, but not for those reasons. Rather than keep his distance, he walked to sit beside her on the bed and followed her line of sight to the selection of tools resting up against a wooden rack.

"I didn't know him very long, but I did know him long enough to see that it's a miracle he didn't manage to burn down this tent. ALl those times I saw him drop things, and he keeps the anvil he uses for working hot metal under a flammable canopy? Remember that time I came to ask him if he could make me a couple of shields for some new trainees and he got nervous?"

Talina's eyes shifted from the tools to look over at the large hunk of shaped metal near the entrance to the tent. A small trace of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

“That was my fault. You always made him nervous. He wanted you to like him, but he was never sure of anything when he wasn't working metal. I had told him to try taking a seat when you come to see him, so he would be more relaxed."

“And when I asked him about the shields he took your advice by quenching an iron poker in his water barrel and then casually sitting on the scorching hot anvil he'd just been working on."

The smile on her Lips deepened, and finally reached her eyes. "Then he tried to quench his ass in the barrel he'd just dumped the poker into."