The dwarf looked around before he realized he was the one being spoken to. "Oh, me?"
"Who the fuck else?"
"My orcish?"
"Aye."
Brahgen shrugged. "I've…uh, I've never had the opportunity to learn."
Skharr scowled deeply. "Neither have I. Well then, we'll have to hope they know a language other than stick the pointy end in the dwarf and human."
"So do you want the contract?" Chano asked and looked from one to the other.
"Aye, we want it." He took the scroll from the man, performed the short rite to bind the contract to him, and turned to his companion. "Now, it’s time to have food and rest, then we can procure the necessary supplies we will need to take with us."
The dwarf grinned and turned away from the table. A small group of mercenaries began to gather at the door. They spoke quickly and looked agitated and seemed to grow more so by the second.
As the two approached, they stood their ground and would not allow either of them to pass through the door. Behind them, a handful of irate locals had converged on the Guild Hall and their vociferous complaints incensed the mercenaries even more.
"You two!" one of the fishermen shouted. "You thieves have stolen precious items of great value from the inn. They are the thieves. They have to be!"
Skharr narrowed his eyes and turned to where Brahgen stared at him, aghast.
"How many times have I told you to not take the shiny baubles, you massive idiot?" the dwarf roared and drew himself as tall as he could.
The boy was playing at something, and as much as he wanted to demand to know what he was doing, they had little time to resolve this before the whole village was in sufficient an uproar to hang them. For now, he’d play the part he thought was expected of him and hope the plan worked to their advantage.
He grunted softly and rolled his massive shoulders. "Take?"
"Yes, you always take what doesn't belong to you."
"Not take!" the barbarian roared and picked the dwarf up with one hand. "Always say give it back. If had, would give."
With that, he hurled the surprised Brahgen into the group of mercenaries and villagers alike. Some fell while others stumbled over one another in their effort to catch him, surprised that the two newcomers were arguing between them instead of contesting the claims outright.
Skharr shook his head and marched to where the group now attempted to struggle to disentangle themselves from their fellows and stand. Those who hadn’t fallen began to draw back slowly at his approach and he lifted Brahgen and set him unceremoniously on his feet.
"My apologies," the youth shouted to the group. "He has something of a temper but has redeeming qualities. Now, did you take the baubles, big-un?"
The warrior shook his head. "Did not take."
"Well then, we'll have to find out where the godsbedammed things went before they decide to…uh, do whatever it is that they do to thieves around here."
The group members looked around, seemingly unsure of what the penalty for thievery was. Before they could reach any consensus, however, one of the mercenaries on the ground shouted, jumped up, and gaped at a collection of pendants and ornaments scattered around him, including a garish broach with a pin that had poked him.
"There's my wife's broach!" one of the villagers shouted and immediately, the townsfolk scrambled feverishly to claim the lost items.
"See now. I knew that there was a peaceful solution to all this." The dwarf smiled and bowed politely.
No one appeared to fully believe his act and they glowered at them, but they had what they'd lost with no proof that the two companions had committed any thievery. When faced with the fact that they had whipped a mob up over items they might have had on their persons all along, they chose to simply hurry away.
Skharr and Brahgen continued through the door and set out on the road to the inn.
"Now, why did you steal their shit?" the warrior asked once they were out of the group's earshot.
"You said I should do so if I was smart."
"That is only if someone has picked a fight with you. Collecting a few spoils of war while you defend yourself will draw no blame. You cannot steal simply for stealing's sake."
"Isn't that the definition of a thief?"
"Not an intelligent one."
"Why the hell not?"
"Do you need to face the angry mob again?" He sighed, exasperated. "Besides, you're merely someone who steals. A true thief is above that kind of nonsense. You have to earn the right to be one. A quality thief is someone others want alongside them when things turn sour like they would, for example, in a dungeon. Not a…rabid animal who takes whatever his hands happen to touch whenever it pleases them."
Brahgen shook his head. "You might have been speaking orcish there because what you said made no fucking sense to my mind."
"Well, think on it."
"Maybe I'm the barbarian here," the dwarf muttered as they approached the inn.
Chapter Nine
"What else do we need?"
Skharr assessed the supplies they collected. They had enough food for the two of them for the journey based on the map he'd purchased from one of the locals. He hadn't expected to find a mage in the village so wasn’t surprised when he didn’t, but he still carried a handful of amulets he had collected for previous excursions that would have to suffice.
Still, they would face a handful of unknowns. He had never dealt with the fishing orc tribes and he'd heard they were more hostile than their desert-dwelling brethren—who were excessively aggressive so this was a matter of some concern. The possibility that there might be hags on the isle as well was a worrying development, but the magic dampening amulets would hopefully keep the creatures away from them. They would feel the effects and move away before the travelers even approached.
Which left one last issue.
"We'll need a fucking boat."
"A…a boat?"
"Aye. How else do you think we'll get there? There is no chance that we'll be able to swim across the lake, down the river, and through to the island. We must have a boat. What? Did you think that I would swim and you would ride on my back?"
Brahgen coughed in what sounded suspiciously like laughter but he wisely chose not to pursue it and they left it entirely unexplored. Skharr led him to the small village docks where most of the boats—small craft, as a rule—were already out at sea in search of the day's catch.
A handful of vessels were still docked, and one of the barges, in particular, seemed likely to ply the smaller waterways.
"It'll be a silver apiece to take the two of you down the river," the captain stated before either of them could say a word. "You'll have to bring your food and we won't bring your horses."
Skharr looked around to make sure the man was speaking to them.
"You already knew we were coming?"
"Word came that you were headed to Groll Oak Island. We happen to be the only vessel that travels down the river, but we will only go as far as the delta. From there, you'll have to find other means to travel."
The barbarian inclined his head and looked at the smaller boats strapped to the barge’s side. "Could you spare one of those?"