Take inventory

"Right everyone, calm down. You, woman, go to the window and order them to stop banging at the door or your life is forfeit", Gizol ordered her.

The brunette was quick on the uptake, merely nodding at him and getting up, though she carefully wrapped the blanket around her torso before stepping, barefooted, to the window. An angry-sounding discussion started - completely through the shuttered panels - but at least the banging stopped.

Gizol looked around. Sky-Spear had an arrow embedded in one shoulder, Swift-Wind was unharmed. All six skeletons, still carrying the valuable loot, were inside, standing against one wall.

"Swift-Wind, see what you can do about that arrow", Gizol ordered the she-orc, who complied. The gnome turned at the human woman.

She was surprisingly young, perhaps in her early twenties or even younger, with a full mane of chestnut brown hair and an alluring, if a bit skinny, figure.

"What's your name?" He asked her, pointing at a chair in the middle of the room. The woman crept closer, carefully sitting down so that her blanket would not fall off. Obviously, she was naked underneath.

"Ingund, daughter of Wisigard", she answered quietly. "Please don't kill me", she added after a pause.

"Well that depends entirely on how reckless they are going to get", Gizol answered, waving his arms vaguely at the door. "Tell me, Ingund, where is your mother?"

"Dead. A fever took her fortnight ago. The men will not bother us for now as I'm the only woman left at the camp after my mother died", Ingund explained.

"Right. Is there a boat here that I could take to get down the river? I'm heading to the capital", Gizol queried.

"No, there's only a small canoe for fishing. But the Flaming Dragon should be arriving tomorrow", Ingund answered. When Gizol just stared at her, the young woman explained that it was a large barge, that brought supplies and took away lumber.

"Well, we'll hitch a ride on this Dragon then. That's settled. Ingund, get dressed and prepare a meal for three", Gizol told her, turning his attention at the orcs. While the girl retreated back at the bed and began a complicated dance of pulling her rough wool dress up her legs without dropping the blanket, Gizol looked at Swift-Wind. The she-orc shook her head:

"Nothing to be done, master. The poison is in the wound. Sky-Spear will face the **** of a craven before the sun rises", she explained.

"Poison? Since when have elves used poison!" Gizon almost shouted. He had never heard of such thing. But Swift-Wind just stared at her strangely:

"Master, elves have been using poison as long as anyone in the tribe can remember. It is known", she said in a tone that left no room for doubt.

"Elves? Did you meet elves?" Ingund asked excitedly from the fire pit, where she was stoking the embers, trying to get a proper flame going on.

"Yes, we did. Well, in a manner of speaking. Do they often raid the camp?"

"No, I have never seen them. The men keep on the edges of the forest and occasionally claim to have seen one but I'm not sure if I believe them", she continued.

"I'm really starting to wonder how long I've been out, with all these changes", Gizol muttered to himself.

But he had more important business to handle. Sky-Spear had served him faithfully, if only for a day. He did not know much of orcs but what he knew was that **** in battle was preferred to any alternative. The old orc looked gray and tired, his breath becoming more and more labored at every moment, but he still grasped his spear strongly and stood levelly on both feet.

"Sky-Spear. I challenge you to duel, a duel to the ****", he said quietly, willing the phantasmal blade of sacrifice to appear on his right hand. The old orc perked at his words, assumed a fighting stance and leveled the spear, pointing its tip at him.

"I hear your challenge and answer. May the stronger orc win! Gruumsh!" He bellowed and charged. Gizol merely fell on his knees and pushed the dagger up, piercing Sky-Spear's abdomen.

"Graz'zt! Accept this sacrifice in your name and grant your favor to me!"

An ominous laughter sounded in the distance as the light was snuffed out of Sky-Spears eyes. The old orc wheezed once before falling down, dead as a rock.

Ingund was clearly terrified but Swift-Wind looked more appreciative. She moved the corpse to one corner of the hut, grabbing his bone necklace and put it on. She then returned to the gnome and prostrated herself once more:

"The tribe is now only me and you, Master", she said softly. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, he had no clue.

"The tribe will grow, soon enough", he answered. "Now where is that food!"