The rescued Elves; LaHood and Blankenship have their wounds treated and the poison drawn from their system. With good food and a warm place to rest, they’ll soon both be fine.
The same can’t be said for the Orc; Rojo. When he recovered consciousness he found his weapons and armour removed and his hands tied behind his back.
There is something very sinister about this Orc. He’s smaller then the average but a mercurial intelligence lurks behind his bloodshot eyes. Despite his injuries a sense of malice emanates from him.
If he wasn't tethered to the wall, he'd seek to do you harm.
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Eolar enters the shed the orc is held in. With the sun shining through the small door behind him he casts a shadow on the tied-up body sitting on the floor near the opposite wall. Rojo looks at him, squinting. He looks at the shape in the door. The half-elf paused, holding a silver symbol he is concentrating on and mumbling something that sounds like a prayer. The orc suddenly feels a strange aura spreading from the cleric and surrounding him, filling the whole shed. Eolar looks up and steps closer. "And now we talk a little bit! Tell me about your clan! Where is your camp and how many are there?". The orc just grunts and stares at the wall. He somehow knows he can't lie to the cleric. "I have to warn you! You can either talk to me and perhaps survive, or you can talk to Bodush. And I'm sure our sorcerer has some ideas how to get you to talk! I guess most of them are quite unpleasant for you!". The orc just smiles. A sudden darkness in the room tells him another person is blocking the light from the door...
Rojo pushes himself up the wall until he’s standing. Straining against the tether, he gets as close as possible to Eolar.
Eolar makes a conscious effort not to step back. He is completely safe while the orcs tied up.
The Orc squints into the painfully bright sunlight, but he can’t make out the second person. Bigger than a Gnome though.
“How many of uz iz there?” Rojo asks incredulously. “There is thouss...” His words stick in his throat. “There is hunds...”
Rojo looks stricken. “How is you doing this; Elf scum!?”
At Eolar’s repeated question, Rojo answers insolently though truthfully.
“There is plenty of us. Enough to deal with weaklings like you.”
Although Rojo can’t lie, he is not compelled to tell the truth. With a tight-lipped smile, he refuses to answer any more of Eolar’s questions.
Violence is the only language Rojo understands.
Time ebbs away. Eolar knows his spell will fade within minutes. What should he do?
Bodush enters, beaming brightly at the orc, absentmindedly playing with his dagger. He sits himself down on the floor, at a safe distance from the Rojo. "Ah, brother, you are in trouble now", Bodush speaks the orcish words easily and fluently."I think I know a spell which may increase your survival chances."
Bodush concentrates for a second, gazing intently at the orc as he gestures in the air, intoning words that are incomprehensible to any in the room. He can feel his mind probing against the orc, sending wave after wave of reassurance towards it, willing him to see him as one of his fellow orcs.
((Casting Charm person))
Rojo looks up in surprise; “You speak Orc very well. Are you here to help me?”
Bodush smile widens still until all his teeth are exposed.
“Yes my brother; answer the Elf’s stupid questions and I’ll assure your freedom.”
Rojo laughs and he tells Bodush everything he wants to hear. He is so happy that he’s soon going to be free.
“I belong to the Broken Lance clan. We were many, but we lack food. Scores have deserted because of it. I hope they all dies old. Excludin’ females and kids, we is a lot less than a hundred.”
Rojo spits onto the floor. His flem is red with blood.
“Goblins have been looting the farms and villages that we depend up on for food. They’re not like us, they burn everything. Sure we kill a few farmers but we leaves enough alive sos they can farm the land and provide enough food for us and them. Is a civilised arrangement.”
Rojo smiles at Bodush. “You want to join us? Men welcome. Orcs and Men brothers. Not like stinking Elves!” The Orc glares at Eolar before continuing; “War caravan is not too far from here; three days ride by horse. More if you’re walking. I could take you there if you’d like brother?”
Bodush nods, "The goblins are a threat to us all". Drawing with a stick in the dust of the shed, he marks the center with the orcish sign for village. "Where can we find Calvera? I am not sure if the gnomes trust you enough to let you go, so we will have to find him to show them that you speak the truth and can be freed." Bodush carefully frees one of Rojo's and hands him the stick. "Show me, brother, and we can get this over with."
Bodush curses as he sees it’s impossible to free just one hand. Still Rojo is tied around the waist and tethered to the wall. He can only move five feet at most. Plus the Orc’s enthralled by Bodush’s spell.
Rojo takes the stick proffered to him and chuckles as Eolar steps backward.
With surprisingly delicate movements, the Orc draws a simple map onto the floor. It shows the Gnome hamlet, the nearby mountain ranges, the Dark wood and even the Elven outpost.
When he’s finished he looks up from his work and points; “Broken Lance clan is here. Calvera is here.”
The Orc war caravan seems to be positioned on a plateau at the beginning of the mountain range. It looks easily approachable but hard to attack. Calvera obviously has some grasp of tactics and strategy.
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