There's a note from Halle on the door.

When Domic returns home, he finds a note on his door: ‘Domic,’ it reads, ‘report to the commandery as soon as you are able. Captain Halle.’ Grumbling, he heads upstairs, changes out of the mourning clothes, grabs more meat from the cellar to eat, and marches out the door. At the commandery, the guard on duty ushers him up to Halle’s solar, where he finds the captain behind his desk, and{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif} sitting on the bench in the corner, holding a piece of meat to{if YuldaLife=1} her{else} his{endif} eye.

“Domic, welcome, please sit,” he smiles, indicating the uncomfortable chair in front of his desk. Today he wears a red jacket with puffed sleeves, while the desk seems marginally tidier, his weapons rack marginally less shiny.

“Thank you, sir,” he says. “At least he’s not standing by his weapons rack,” he thinks sarcastically. "Of course then I'd look over there, not at the sun," he grumbles as it glares through the windows.

“How are you faring? Torjo told me you got pretty banged up during the battle,” his pebbly eyes glued on him.

“Should I ask why he had Yulda guard me? Would I even get a straight answer?” he thinks. “Yes, but um, not too badly – nothing my sister couldn’t fix with her apothecary’s training,” he says.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it," he smiles. "But let’s get to business. You’ve might have already guessed why I’ve called you here, judging from{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda's{else} Jaetor's{endif} eye.”

“Does it have something to do with the orc, with Kexca?”

Halle chuckles, no mirth in his eyes. “Yes, it is about this orc, this Kexca.” He pauses, and leans back in his chair. “As I’m sure someone – like Torjo, or my daughter,” his eyes flick briefly to him, “has already told you, there was nothing in the caverns to indicate the location of the other band. No maps, letters, nothing. The only lead we have is down in her cell, and she is, to put it bluntly, unwilling to cooperate. We let her rot all yesterday and last night, wake her up the crack of dawn today. Takes{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda and three men{else} four men including Jaetor{endif} to wrestle her down and get that clunky armor off her,” he sighs and rubs his temples. “Once we’ve finally done that, she says she’ll talk – but only to you.”

“Me?” Domic says, incredulous.

“That’s the same reaction we had. We think it’s a load of bull, of course, so we rough her a bit, figuring she’ll just start talking right away. She doesn’t say anything, barely flinches, she just keeps staring daggers at us – and spitting at us. We take a break, she says we’re just wasting our time, she’s perfectly willing to talk to you – and so here we are.”

“But why would she want to talk to me?”

“I don’t know, and frankly, I could care less why,” he shrugs. “Maybe it’s some honor thing, maybe it’s because you got her to swear not to kill you, it doesn’t matter. We’re going down there, and seeing what she can tell us,” he says, standing up, motioning.

“Oh, uh, yes of course Captain,” he says, standing up as well. Halle quickly stomps out of the room, Domic and{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif} rushing after him through the commandery, down to the dungeon cells. “Ubic! Wake up!” Halle shouts down the dark hallway at the closed door, well before they reach it. Yawning, the portly jailer opens the door to the candle filled room and tosses Halle the cell keys. They all grab long, slowly burning candles, then walk through the damp hallway to Kexca’s cell door.

Halle unlocks the door and they all look inside the reeking cell. Kexca sits against the far wall, looking no cleaner then when Domic had left her. She looks less bulky with her armor removed – but still wearing the holey leather trousers and thick tunic that she presumably wore underneath. Her arms are chained above her head, the cuffs of her sleeves sticking through the manacles. Domic can tell by the stretch of the fabric that her arms are well muscled. The pupils of her amber eyes contract at the light of the candle, and he notices a tiny mouse in the corner freeze.

“Ach, don’t you fucking stupid humans know how to follow directions? I only want to talk to him,” she says irritably in Norword, staring at Domic.

“I’m sorry Domic, you’re going to have to interpret for us,” Halle says.

"Of course I am," he thinks, sighing softly. “Mhm, she uh, only wants to talk to me.”

“Well what difference does it make?”

“What does it matter?” he asks Kexca.

“Don’t ask stupid questions. The others can go wait with the fat snorer,” she hisses, eyes blazing.

“She won’t give an answer, she wants you two to wait with Ubic,” Domic says, frowning. “She’s starting to irritate me already,” he thinks. Halle rolls his eyes.

“Fine. She disgusts me anyways - the less I see of her, the better,” he scowls, motioning for{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif} to move out.

“Wait!” Kexca yells. Domic stops them. “How does pissarm’s eye feel?” she grins malevolently.

“She’s wondering about your eye,{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif},” Domic says.{if YuldaLife=1} She{else} He{endif} glowers, and makes an obscene hand gesture at Kexca, who sneers. Domic then repeats the gesture to her, and she snorts derisively.

“Fuck you too,” she spits.

“Go,” Domic says, and he is left standing in front of Kexca. “Alright, it’s just me, so say your piece.”

“Do you still have my ax?”

“What?” he says, his temper rising. “Do I still have your fucking ax?”

“Yes, do you?”

“Cuh, you’re lucky, I still do.”

“Shame, I would have liked to imagine you running all around this shitty little town, trying to buy it back,” she says, grinning terribly at him.

He advances on her, and squats down in front of her face, grimacing at her stench. “Please, by the gods, don’t say that’s the only fucking thing you wanted,” he hisses. Her amber eyes blaze angrily into his, and she scrunches up her nose.

“Hrmph, I wish it was, but no. I know where Nobox lays his head at night. And I’ll even lead you there.”

“Nobox, uh, your leader? Massive orc?” he says, temper cooling with this breakthrough.

“Don’t ask stupid questions. I’ll lead you to him in exchange for oaths, promises.”

“In what?”

“I just said don’t ask fucking stupid questions, stupid human. I should have headbutted you, the night we fought – it would have made you smarter.”

Domic frowns in angry irritation. “Can we hurry this along, I’d like to go home,” he says curtly, his temper rising again.

“As do I. I want an oath guaranteeing my freedom in exchange for leading you to Nobox’s hideaway.”

“Yes, of course, I'll do that.”

“Not from you, stupid,” she mocks. “From your rockhead captain. From you I want an oath you’ll give me back my ax,” she says.

“Sure, whatever. Piece of shit anyways,” he says, sneering.

She growls and frowns. “Hrm– fetch your captain quickly, so we don’t waste more time,” she says. Domic is out of the cell before she can make any other insulting remark. Halle and the others stand chatting idlily in the candle room.

“Well?” Halle asks.

“She’ll uh, tell us where her leader is, in exchange for her freedom, and her ax back from me,” Domic says.

“That’s it? Hmm, didn’t expect her to betray her own kind that cheaply," Halle says, disbelievingly. Domic shrugs. “Let me think for a bit - in silence,” Halle mutters and they wait silently for a couple of minutes until he finally sighs. “I suppose we don’t really have a choice. She’s our only lead to the other group. We’ll agree to her demands, and count ourselves lucky she isn’t asking for more,” he says, walking back to her cell. They find her as before, only now picking gunk out of her nails.

“Ah, finally,” she says impatiently. She looks them over. “Where’s the meat?” she asks.

“Now what?” Domic thinks. “You didn’t say anything about meat, why do you want it?” he says.

“Hrmph, one can’t swear oaths without meat, everyone knows th-” she pauses, and suddenly disappears into her own thoughts. Then her amber eyes lock onto his, a volcano of killing rage erupting behind them, “but then again, I shouldn’t expect oathbreakers to,” she snarls, spitting ‘oathbreakers’ out with pure, venomous hatred.

“Holy fucking shit,” he thinks, taken aback by her sudden vehemence. Then she immediately starts to loudly scream curses at them in Norword and her own tongue, kicking at them, straining her muscles as she tries to rip out the shackles. Halle and{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif} stare wide-eyed at her and they all instinctively step back. “Um, we need meat, um, go get some meat,” he stammers, his ears burning, watching her with horror as she struggles, screaming and groaning.

Halle jabs{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif} away. “She’s getting that mad about meat?” he asks, grimacing.

“No, no. About oathbreakers, Captain th-“

“Don’t fucking bother talking about it you fucking wormshits! Just fucking kill me now! I’ll not trust the oaths of waterblood filth like you!” she screeches.

“-at’s what she’s getting mad about,” Domic says.

Halle slowly rubs his hands over his face as Kexca continues to howl curses at them in Norword and her own tongue. “Like I said, we don’t have a choice – ask her what we can do so she’ll trust our word.” Domic nods wearily.

“Hey. Hey. Listen. Kexca. Kexca. ShUT UP, JUST FUCKING LISTEN FOR ONCE!” he yells, patience finally giving way. Kexca thankfully stops swearing for a moment, which Domic springs for. “What'll it fucking take for you to trust our oaths?”

“Only one thing – you’ll swear by your gods, then by mine,” she says, catching her breath and furiously trying to burn off his face with her eyes. Domic relays her request to Halle, who nods in agreement, rubbing his temples, and they begin. It is very slow going, much to everyone’s irritation. First, the meat comes, but it's not cooked 'correctly,' so it has to be. It is divided into three shares, one each for Halle and Domic, who **** down the black, ruined chunks, while Kexca seemingly enjoys hers, scarfing it down. Then they all spend an annoyingly long time arguing about the phrasing of the oaths, while it takes even more time for Domic to coach Halle through it in Norword.

Finally, Halle delivers the verbose monstrosity of an oath to her satisfaction, and Domic says a much more reasonable version for the return of her ax. “I, Domic of Pael, do solemnly swear by my own gods, the Four born of the Two that was One, and by the great gods of Cork, Torq, and Borc, to return to Kexca Bearsoul, her ax. The aforementioned shall happen upon completion of her pledge to lead the warriors of Pael to Nobox Bigstone’s cave. Should I break this oath, may Cork maim me, Torq brain me, and Borc hang me, and let what remains be given to my own gods to curse in their manner.”

“Good,” she says begrudgingly. “I accept your oath upon my pledge. Now get the fuck out of my sight, I wish to rest. It will be a hard journey up the mountains.” Domic gratefully waves Halle and{if YuldaLife=1} Yulda{else} Jaetor{endif} away, but stays for a moment, a thought forming in his mind. “What?” she hisses, eyeing him, going back to cleaning gunk out of her fingernails.

“You haven’t sworn any oaths to this Nobox, have you? You don’t owe him anything,” he questions. Her lips curl into the most infinitesimal of genuine smiles. "She actually knows how to fucking do that?" he thinks scornfully.

“Maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought,” she begrudgingly allows. Then her eyes narrow: “But I still hate you."

Domic snorts and slams the cell door.