Private Tales The Next Chapter..

[Rori]

Some time in the night, the haunting tendrils of a nightmare released their grip on Rori, leaving her breathless and disoriented. The slumbering forms of her companions dotted the forest floor, oblivious to her struggle. Frustration gnawed at her, rendering any hope of sleep futile. In search of solace, she rose from her makeshift bed and treaded barefoot across the carpet of pine needles that blanketed the ground and cradled her steps.

The moon, radiant and full, guided her as she ventured further into the depths of the forest, its silvery glow cascading through the branches above, casting ethereal patterns on the forest floor. Each breath of the cool night air filled her lungs, offering a soothing balm to her restless spirit.

Eventually, Rori stumbled upon a small clearing nestled by the peaceful embrace of a tranquil lake. The moonlight danced upon the water's surface, creating a mesmerizing spectacle that mirrored the celestial realm above. Entranced by the serenity that enveloped the scene, she found respite against the sturdy trunk of an ancient oak tree.

With her back leaning against the weathered bark, Rori allowed herself to become one with the stillness of the night. The symphony of nature unfolded around her—crickets chirping in harmonious chorus, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves, and the occasional hoot of an owl echoing in the distance. It was a rare moment of peace, a refuge from the chaos that had plagued her existence for so long.

Lost in her thoughts, Rori's gaze fixed upon the moon, her weary face illuminated. Questions and uncertainties swirled within her mind like wisps of fog. Where would her life lead her? Would she remain with the Blackshields, the ruthless warriors who had offered her a small taste of safety? How long could they reasonably tolerate someone so useless? She pondered the diverging paths before her, and doubt crept into her heart. Did she possess the resilience, the strength, to forge a life as a one of them? She had watched them fight, some women, just like her. The scars of her past whispered reminders of her own helplessness, a nagging voice that threatened to undermine her newfound sense of security.

Yet, amidst the tranquility of the clearing, a flicker of determination sparked within her. She yearned to break free from the shackles of her past, to prove to herself and to the world that she was more than a helpless victim. The desire to grow, to become stronger, coursed through her veins like a dormant flame waiting to be ignited. The moon cast its unwavering gaze upon her, as if bestowing its silent blessing upon her restless soul. In the gentle lapping of the lake's water against the shore, she found the courage to embrace the unknown. The path of a warrior may be arduous, but she would face it with the same determination and resilience that had kept her alive.

Lost in the solitude of the night, Rori surrendered to the healing embrace of the forest, and allowed her eyes to close...

 

[Agatha]

There were people in the woods, but most of them were friendly. Walking along the shoreline, Agatha turned her attention back to the lake. The beach along which she strode was stony, and every now and then her boots would send a cascade of loose scree tumbling down to the water's edge. As jarring as the sounds were, they did little to effect the tranquillity that had descended over the place.

Wherever this place is. It had been a full day since their raid on the prisoner convoy, and the Second were still finding their feet after what had been a rather busy start to the week. Bloody, too. They had lost good men in their flight from the fortified town of Taernsby. Too many, if Agatha was being honest.

But then it was always "too many".

A sentry appeared from the treeline to shout a challenge. Upon recognising the Captain, however, he was quick to apologise. 'Sorry, Cap,' the man said. 'Didn't realise it was you.' Taking a close look at the sentry, Agatha smiled, as if to say she didn't mind. 'Don't apologise for doing your job, Grizmund,' said Agatha, calling the trooper by name. A bit of familiarity was good for morale, every so often. It helped set her Blackshields' minds at ease, knowing that their captain cared enough to remember their names.

Most days, she did.

'Yes, Captain! Thank you, Captain!' Sharing a grin, Agatha waved Grizmund back to his post. Walking on, she passed by a trio of archers where they sat by the shoreline, enjoying their wine rations. A small campfire glowed hungrily between them. They turned at the sound of her approach. 'Captain,' they greeted her, one after another after another. New faces, Agatha had yet to learn their names. Had yet to be given reason to. There was one face though, up ahead in the gloom.

'Nice night for a bit o' soul-searching, wouldn't you say?' Stopping shy of Rori, Agatha smiled warmly at the latest addition to her cohort. 'Mind if I join you?'

Rori

 

[Rori]

Rori flinched, her bruised face wincing at the sudden jolt of surprise and her heart striking a staccato in her chest. Slender brows rose up in surprise to see the one she'd heard called 'Cap'. She couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, for the tales she had heard of orcs were often accompanied by stories of danger and brutality. Agatha, as the captain of the Blackshields, had obviously possessed those traits, embodying the ferocity associated with her kind. Yet, Rori hadn't anticipated the warmth in her smile nor the gentle tone of her voice.

Nervously, Rori shifted her position, making room for the Captain to join her against the ancient oak tree. Her cheeks burning as she stole a glance up at the seasoned warrior. How terribly small she felt in her presence.

"Of course.." she answered, her voice barely above a whisper, and cleared her throat, her bruised and grazed body aching with each breath. Despite her reservations, Rori knew better than to openly display her fear, even if she was doing a terrible job at it. She had witnessed the strength and prowess of the Blackshields firsthand, and she understood that she needed their protection for the time being. She took a deep breath, summoning the remnants of her shattered confidence, and attempted to meet Agatha's gaze with her own tired and timid eyes.

"I couldn't sleep.." she huffed a quiet laugh under her breath. "But, yes. I suppose it is." she answered, returning her gaze to the lake.

"I've never really spent any time in the wilderness before." she admitted with a ghost of a smile. "Quite pretty."

 

[Agatha]

Agatha's smile brightened. 'It can be,' she agreed, settling against the tree beside Rori. The moonlight had made a ghost of the pale-skinned human, and for the first time since the redhead had joined their outfit, Agatha was finally able to get a good look at her. Quite pretty, the she-orc mused, her amber eyes practically glowing in the dark as she repeated Rori's words in her mind.

And young.

How old could she be? Agatha wondered. Early, mid-twenties? Roughly the same age she had been when she'd come into her captaincy. Had fate decided to throw some competition her way, or was their meeting simply a product of chance? Only time would tell, and time, well...

Time was the one thing Agatha had been fighting for all these years. There was the money, too, but that meant little if you weren't around to spend it.

'I couldn't sleep either. Thought I'd take a walk, stretch my legs whilst I tried to get my head together.' Agatha's smile waned. She held fast against her inner fears, however, and before long she was smiling again. 'Easier said than done, as you well know.' Looking out across the lake, Agatha took a breath of air. The night was cool but tolerable. The skies well-lit.

'You came to us during our sojourn in Taernsby, correct?' It wasn't really a question. 'How're you finding life amongst my Blackshields? Hope they haven't made you feel too uncomfortable. I promise they're a good bunch once you get to know them.' A hard to believe truth, that. No-one ever thought well of mercenaries. Usually they had good reason not to. Which reminds me...

'If anyone tries to get handsy with you, feel free to punch 'em in the face. Nothing like a few missing teeth to set the record straight'

 

[Rori]

Her gaze shifted back to Agatha, her eyes reflecting a mixture of vulnerability and determination as she nodded at the question. "I did.. I haven't had the chance to thank you.." she offered a soft smile. She had never imagined that would find herself among warriors, among women who can wield weapons and face their enemies without fear.

"It's been a lot to process.. But they've been kind." the redhead answered. She hadn't said much to anyone yet, and after ensuring that she wasn't broken or bleeding to death, the others had let her rest. She imagined herself looking like a lost rabbit amongst wolves.

Her gaze widened at how casually the Captain suggested punching someone's teeth out. It was both unexpected and oddly reassuring. The captain's straightforwardness caught her off guard, momentarily lifting the weight of her own doubts. She mustered a small smile, her unease briefly forgotten. She laughed awkwardly under her breath, looking down at her bruised hands and broken nails, her tongue running over the healing wound on her swollen lip. "Right...Fighting back doesn't usually work out so well for me."

She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "I'd be willing to learn.." she glanced sideward at the captain, hesitance in her voice. "If someone could teach me... I've never seen anyone fight like you all do.. But I want to."

 

[Agatha]

Agatha's brows lifted slightly, as if she didn't quite believe what she was hearing. 'Got yourself out of Taernsby, didn't you?' Turning to Rori, she studied the redhead closely. Aye, the bruises looked nasty, but when did they not? She sighed. 'If you wish to learn, then I'm sure someone would be willing to teach you.' For a price, Agatha thought, nodding to herself.

Rori wanted to be a Blackshield? Well, she would have to sign on the dotted line, like every other fucker that had come before her. Maybe then they would show her the ropes, or else find for her a home amongst the company's strength. Medic's were always in demand, were they not?

Not that Rori could sew up wounds any better than she could swing a sword. 'Tell me, do you have any skills you can bring to the table? Any... talents in particular you feel are worth mentioning?' Suffice to say, it was clear to everyone that she lacked the muscle and temperament to have been a warrior at any point in her past. Hells, her own words had been proof enough of that.

'No offense and all, but we don't take freeloaders. You'll have to earn your keep if you wish to stay with us.' Pausing, Agatha's eyes met Rori's, held them. 'How you do that is up to you, and you alone.'

 

[Rori]

Rori blanched as she felt the weight of Agatha's scrutiny. The captain's words cut through her with a mix of challenge and expectation. She knew that joining the Blackshields meant more than just seeking safety; it meant proving herself, contributing in a way that went beyond her own desires.

"I...understand." she frowned gently, her voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty. She averted her gaze for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I don't wish to be a freeloader.." she murmured indignantly.

"While I may lack experience as a warrior, I have some experience with healing, and I could learn more, given the opportunity. I know how to pull my weight.. I just." Rori frowned, her fingers nervously twining together as her gaze settled momentarily on the Captain's blade.

"I want to be able to hold my own." her bruised brow ached as it rose, and Rori's eyes met Agatha's once again, determination shining through her apprehension. "I'll contribute in any way I can. I'll work hard, learn whatever is needed. If I prove worthless, well you can always dump me wherever..."

She took a steadying breath, her jaw tight as she considered the tone she'd used was likely a little more tempered than it ought to have been in her position.

 

[Agatha]

Agatha studied Rori closely. Well, at least she doesn't lack a spine, the she-orc thought. Smiling suddenly, the Captain clapped Rori on the shoulder. 'That'll do!' Pushing away from the tree, she nodded along the shoreline. 'Walk with me?' Not bothering to wait for a reply, Agatha began walking.

'May I ask... not that it particularly matters... which would you prefer of the two?'

Looking out over the silvered lake, she said; 'To become a medicae, whose primary function in this company is to prolong and, in some cases, safeguard the lives of the men and women she serves with? Or to become a warrior?' Blinking, Agatha's smile faltered, grew forlorn. Rori had seen first-hand just what their purpose in life was.

At Taernsby. During the raid on the prisoner column. Perhaps before she had even come to know of the company's existence. The last was a question for another time, alas.

Assuming she lived that long.

'Think about it, and speak honestly,' Agatha grinned. 'Honesty is the one thing I value more than a strong sword arm... Sometimes.'

 

[Rori]

Rori's jaw clenched until her back teeth ground together as the captain clapped her on the shoulder. She doubted it possible that she could have felt any more frail in that moment as she rubbed at the ache and limped to her feet. At least there had been an agreement. She was staying, for now at least..

She wandered after Agatha until she caught up, following her gaze over the lake as she listened, and turning to look up at her as she asked for honesty.

"I.. The thought of saving a life is far more appealing to me than taking one." she frowned, but held the woman's gaze rather than show any shame in her words by looking away. "I know how to tend the sick and wounded, because I've been the sick and wounded more times than I care to admit. I want to help, and I may not want to hurt people I'd also like to... not be hurt." she huffed awkwardly, now finding her gaze too difficult to hold.

"Thank you." her throat cleared. "For allowing me to stay. I'll try to be more help than hindrance." she nodded.

 

[Agatha]

A little backbone. Good. 'Don't thank me yet,' the Captain growled. 'The mercenary life ain't for most people, as you'll soon see.' Crunching to a halt in the shingle, Agatha turned to gaze out across the moonlit lake. Water lapped gently at the shore, its steady rhythm bringing with it a sense of serenity the she-orc was not accustomed to.

'It's a noble path you've chosen for yourself,' she said, glancing over her shoulder at Rori. 'Don't fuck it up!'

Turning back, she watched the lake for a moment. Cool as the night was, the water looked inviting. No doubt some of the more foolish members of her company would decide to take a dip, sooner or later. Most likely when they had some drink in them. How we've survived thus far is a mystery to me, thought the orc, smiling despite herself.

'Alright, enough soul-searching!' Strolling past Rori, Agatha nodded for the woman to follow. 'Mender should still be up at this hour. Perhaps you'd like to meet your new officer, get acquainted?'

 

[Rori]

Not for everyone? Rori didn't doubt that for a moment. This was going to take some getting used to, and honestly - she wasn't sure if she had even a kernel of the strength these people had to live the way they did, never mind fight as they did. But she'd try.

The captain's warning cut through Rori as though it had a sharp, physical form. There was nothing she could do to stop the flinch, nor the stumble in her pulse before it quickened, but she could at least hide the fear in her eyes by frowning at the ground with a silent nod in response.

She was quick to her feet despite the pain it caused, and her pulse set the beat of her hurried steps to keep up with the terrifying woman.

"Yes.. Uhm, Captain." she lied, dreading to think what this 'Mender' was like. She doubted anyone in this camp was the sort of soft and gentle her soul so craved, they were just as violent and frightening as they had to be to do what they did. But she was not a captive here, and she feared them far less than those she'd run from. At least they were good people... She hoped they were good people.

 

[Agatha]

The Blackshields weren't good people, but they sure as shit looked after their own. It was one of the first lessons every new recruit learnt, be they dumb, or desperate enough to follow the Black Banner. This is your family now. Us against the world. Nothing matters more than the Company. They were words Agatha held to, for better or worse. Hopefully, Rori would come to believe in them the same way she did.

Or maybe she'd desert first chance she got. That was the risk one took when picking up strays.

Woodsmoke and the sounds of a company at rest filtered through the trees as they walked. The darkness was thick here, as thick as the pine needles blanketing the ground. Cookfires and lit torches kept it at bay, for the most part. Agatha knew Mender's tent was most likely to be somewhere near the centre of the camp. It was the safest place to keep their wounded and sick, few as they were. Rori would be fine.

If she could just-

'Relax, will you?' Glancing sidelong at the redhead, Agatha gives the woman a stern, almost annoyed look. 'You're safe here. No-one's going to hurt you, least of all Mender. You have my word on that.'

 

[Rori]

"I'm perfectly relaxed." she answered in a quiet grumble that carried the slightest hint of attitude. A lie, of course. She hated how anxious she felt, and she hated even more that she let it show to these strangers like a beaten dog being offered a hand. She had no choice but to believe Agatha, and trust in her word. She didn't know her, but she didn't seem the type to offer her word without the confidence that it would be upheld.

Relax. The redhead silently urged herself, forcing her shoulders to fall and her muscles to ease. The fidgeting would be a difficult habit to drop, but she'd work on it. She even looked at those she passed, offering a small smile to any that caught her eye in the warm glow of torchlight.

When someone limped from the large tent in the middle of a clearing, Rori's chin lifted slightly, her bruised features smoothing with a facade of someone who was defiantly quite. fucking. relaxed.

 

[Agatha]

Better? Better! Striding into the medical tent, Agatha stepped aside to introduce Rori as Mender looked up from her work. Tonight, she was note-keeping. Mender liked to do that. She was meticulous, in all things, but her records of the wounded and their myriad afflictions were second to none.

Fortunately for the both of them, she wasn't in a foul mood, either.

'Well, well, well!' The she-orc said by way of greeting. 'Who's this you've brought to see me? Not another one of your many admirers, surely!' Rising from her camp chair, the physician rounded the table on which her notes and doctor's kit were spread. Taller by a thimble, but less muscular than the Captain, Mender carried herself with the sort easy confidence Agatha could only aspire to.

It put people at ease, Agatha found, and left her smiling despite herself.

'Sorry to disappoint you, but, no, not this time.' Clearing her throat, a wry smile crossing her face, the Captain turned to lay a hand on Rori's shoulder. 'I've actually come here to introduce you to your your newest assistant.' Meeting the redhead's gaze, Agatha nodded encouragingly.

Go ahead.

 

[Rori]

The knot of tension in her chest loosened slightly. Mender was an orc, yes, but a female one with a sense of humour. An audible breath spilled from the redhead and her the stoic and serious expression she wore warmed as she listened to the two’s interaction. Even the unexpected hand on her shoulder failed to make her flinch, and she turned to hold Agatha's gaze for a moment, giving a single nod and returning her attention to the medic.

“I’m Aur—er, Rori..” she introduced and cleared her throat. “I’ll try not to be a hindrance.” Rori insisted, wringing her fingers for a moment before forcing herself to stop. She cast her eyes around the tent, an impressive set up for something so temporary. One patient lay resting, and another sat watching her.

"Do.. The Captain's admirers often find themselves in the medic tent?.." she asked with a careful smirk.

 

[Agatha]

'Now, isn't that a loaded question.' Mender replied, cheerfully. 'Tempted as I am to answer it, I'm not sure the Captain in question would approve. Besides, that would spoil the fun!' With a playful wink, the physician returned to the seat behind her desk.

'I'll see you in the morning, Aur-er-Rori. Don't be late.'

Smiling at the casual dismissal, Agatha turned to face Rori. 'You get used to her sense of humour,' Agatha promised, tilting her head towards the way out. 'Assuming you survive that long. Most new orderlies don't last a week. Can't possibly imagine why!' Speaking loud enough for Mender to hear her, Agatha left the medical tent through the same way they'd entered.

Outside, the air was calm, peaceful. Muted voices floated on the breeze. A hog oinked somewhere in the darkness. Agatha pondered. 'It's getting late,' she pointed out, glad Rori could no longer discern the colour in her cheeks. Captains weren't supposed to blush. 'Have you made sleeping arrangements?

 

[Rori]

"I won't be late." Rori promised with a light smirk, and a quiet chuckle tumbled from her lips. Laughter, fuck, that felt strange, especially here with a pair of orc women. Weren't they supposed to be serious and terrifying? Weren't they war-crazed, blood-thirsty animals? She supposed they were likely all of those things, but they weren't animals. Rori just, hadn't expected them to be humorous. It certainly set her much more at ease, at least for now.

The cut on her lip stung a little as she smiled at Agatha's assurances.. "I'm sure I will. I fully intend on surviving." she answered, and followed her back outside, noticing the halcyon atmosphere now that she felt calm enough to do so.

Rori's head shook at the Captain's question, loosing a few russet curls around her face "Not really, no.." she answered. "Where are you sleeping?" she asked, the regret of asking passing immediately over her face. "I.. Mean I'm sure I can sleep anywhere, just.." That it's no doubt the safest place in camp to sleep? Fuck she was pathetic. Might as well ask her to hold her fucking hand, too.

She cleared her throat and let out a huff, her smile tight. "I can sleep anywhere." she shrugged.

 

[Agatha]

A smile creeped its way onto Agatha's face. Laughter followed, honest and full of life. 'My, oh, my! Rori! Whatever are you implying?' Gazing into the redhead's eyes, the Blackshield Captain read between the lines. She was good at that. Insightful. Usually she saved her talents for when a sponsor planned on using her company poorly, or had ulterior motives that went against their own.

Smiling still, Agatha hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

'Come on, then,' she said, 'let me show you where the real magic happens.' Shaking her head at her own pitiful attempt at humour, the she-orc led Rori through the camp. The Captain's Tent, somewhat unsurprisingly, dwarfed those around it. Black as midnight, with three swords splayed in gold across the tent's mouth, it was every bit the headquarters it was intended to be.

A squad was set to guard it at all times, barring entry to those who tried getting in without permission. 'Evening, Captain,' the sergeant among them snapped, climbing to his feet as Agatha crunched her way towards the entrance.

Waving a hand in recognition, Agatha paused by the tent flap.

The guard's watchfire gave a warm glow to the she-orc's skin as she turned to regard Rori. 'After you,' she purred, invitingly. A number of the 'Shields present exchanged looks, but chose to hold their tongues. The Captain was a strict disciplinarian, and if they weren't careful, they might end up on a punishment detail. Digging latrines, feeding slops to the hogs, that sort of thing.

'Agatha?' A gravelly voice called out from within the great pavilion.

Smiling, more to reassure her new companion as to her intentions than anything, Aggs said, 'There's someone else I'd like you to meet before we settle in for the night.'

 

[Rori]

Now, it was Rori's turn to blush, and the redhead's fair skin could burn furiously. Agatha was laughing, and she wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. The Blackshield Captain was far more confident than she, and far more charismatic than she had expected. It was difficult not to be a little off guard.
"I wasn't implying.." she murmured with an awkward chuckle as she followed after her.

Rori felt eyes on her, though rather than meet their stares her attention remained on the imposing tent, and she had been so eager to remove herself from their attention that she near walked straight into Agatha as she paused. If it were possible for her cheeks to flush an even deeper shade of red, they did so.

She had been about to apologise when she heard the inquisitive voice from inside the tent, and her brow quirked.. "Oh.. Alright.." she nodded. The captain's smile eased her nerves a little more, and with intrigue, she stepped inside.

 

[Agatha]

Covering up a smile by pretending to cough, Agatha followed Rori into her tent. The space within was warm and inviting. Rugs bedecked the wooden floorboards. Colourful, eye-catching pieces, each was from a different land the Company had visited over the years. Most, admittedly, had been inherited from previous captains.

To one side of the tent was a camp bed and chest, as well as a mannequin on which her black plate rested. On the other, a wooden bath tub and wash basin. There was a desk in the middle, just behind the central support, stacked with books and reports. A candle burned there, dangerously close to all that kindling.

A small, bearded fellow peeked out from behind the stacked parchment. 'Who's this?' Toki demanded, slithering from view to come around the side at a trot. 'Another one of your trollops?'

'Another one of Mender's orderlies,' Agatha smiled, looking at Rori. She shook her head. Ignore him, she seemed to say, he's harmless. Sniffing disdainfully, Toki harrumphed. 'Doesn't look much like an orderly,' he commented, eyeing the redhead up and down. 'Doesn't look like much of anything.'

'No?' Agatha grinned, hands on hips. 'Shows how much you know.'

Raising her chin, she said, 'Rori, meet Toki, company quartermaster, paymaster, and requisitions officer.' Looking down her nose at the dwarf, she continued, 'Gods only know how he managed that.'

Laughing, the dwarf puffed out his chest. 'With great skill comes great responsibility!' He grinned, added; 'S'pose you want this one outfitted and added to the payroll? Well, she can help herself to equipment. As for the other...' He looked to the redhead.

'Temporary?'

 

[Rori]

The small smile that curled on her lips was instant as she took in the Captain's tent. It was.. homely, and oddly comforting, that was until the little, bearded man peeked out and startled her. She'd smiled, about to say hello when she was immediately insulted and her smile fell into a scowl.

"Trollop?" she grumbled, shooting a quiet glare in Agatha's direction. It seemed the Captain really did have somewhat of a reputation, but she didn't much appreciate being dragged into it. A muscle feathered in her jaw as she turned her narrowing gaze to the dwarf who continued on his tirade..

"Permanent." she answered firmly, her grazed knuckles paling as her hand balled into a fist, wondering how it'd feel to throw it into his smug little face.

"Who pissed on your pancakes? And what sort of way is that to speak to a Lady? I might not look like much, but I have had nothing but insult and injury thrown at me for too long and I am fucking sick of it. And no, I'm not another one of her trollops, you little shit." Her voice shook, and the curses sounded ridiculous on her, as though she were speaking a foreign language. Her cheeks burned.

"I'll find a spot amongst the others. I didn't come here to be insulted and belittled, nor do I wish to give anyone else cause to gossip about me." she waved a hand dismissively and turned to storm out.

 

[Agatha]

The Captain kept her expression flat as Rori took her turn dishing out the insults. "Little shit" was right. Agatha had lost count of the number of times Toki's tongue had landed him in boiling water. To be honest, she was loath to fish him out of it.

Rori turned to leave. Agatha caught her arm.

'One moment,' she said, softly enough that her words would not translate to outside ears. 'I think the little shit has something else he wants to say.' The she-orc's tone was amused, but also firm. She would brook no argument on the matter. Not until all parties had said their piece and come to terms.

Toki looked like a man who was starting to reconsider his.

'Forgive me,' he grumbled, 'I was mistaken. There is more to you than meets the eye. For a moment, you struck me as a veteran mercenary.' Agatha's eyebrows perked up, as if somewhat surprised. Veteran mercenary, huh? She grinned. Toki hurried to move things along. 'I apologise! Your name will be entered into the relevant books with all haste. You have my word on that!' Pausing, he turned to stare at Agatha.

Agatha turned to Rori.

 

[Rori]

There was a spark of defiant anger in her mossy gaze as she set it first upon the hand that gripped her arm, and then on Agatha's face, expecting that the orc would reprimand her for how she'd spoken to the dwarf she assumed to be her friend. But, rather than rage, there was amusement, and she didn't know what was worse.

She followed the Captain's gaze back to Toki, her brow sloped in scrutiny. A nasal huff tumbled free, and though she currently didn't feel like accepting the forced apology, her jaw clenched and she dipped her chin in a nod. "Well.. Good. You're forgiven.." she said, frowning between the two. Agatha was still rather enjoying herself, it seemed.

"Might I be dismissed now?.." she quirked a brow with a tug at her arm.

 

[Agatha]

With a nod, Agatha let go. She wasn't sure if Toki's apology was genuine, but it was better than giving the bad blood time to settle between them. 'See you tomorrow.' Brushing past Toki, the Captain took a seat behind her desk. Rori was gone by then, off to wherever it was she was going. Agatha sighed, slumped down.

'Well, you certainly have a way with women,' she said, glowering at Toki over the top of her papers.

'What? You brought her in here!' Knowing he had done wrong, the dwarf went on the offensive. 'Not my fault she can't take a joke.' With an exaggerated shake of his head, he rounded the desk. 'Pass me that, will you?' he said, pointing to a ledger containing the names of every man, woman and beast currently serving the black.

'May as well enter her name in, considering she's so adamant on staying.'

'You sound surprised.'

'And you're not?' Toki huffed disbelievingly, dipping his favourite quill before taking it to a fresh page. Agatha thought on his question for all of a second. Sure, Rori looked soft, like a proper little Lady. But then so had a number of others Aggs didn't care to name. 'Sides, what did Rori have to go back to?

Nothing. No-one. She was a loner in need of a strong pack to help raise her up.

Agatha was more than willing to. 'I think you underestimate our new orderly,' she answered, her mien growing thoughtful. 'I also think you'll continue to do so, right up until she shows you just what she's capable of.' Agatha smiled, showing off her wolf's teeth. 'Should be interesting, either way!'

 

[Rori]

Rori gave a curt nod and pulled her arm away from Agatha's grasp, shooting a final, sharp look at Toki, the determined set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes spoke of a resilience that had weathered the storms of insult and injury.

"Tomorrow." she replied, her tone carrying a note of finality as she left with the lingering sting of the insults still burning within her. Toki had left a bitter taste, but instead of allowing him deter her, she channeled that energy into a fierce resolve.

Once outside, she drew deep breath, and with a determined stride, she made her way to find a spot among the others. Her gaze swept across the camp, absorbing the sights and sounds of a company on the move. She had come here for a reason, driven by a desire for a fresh start, a sense of belonging that had eluded her for too long, and she would find have a purpose here.

Amidst the flickering campfires and the murmur of voices, Rori found her place amidst a cluster of tents.
The gazes that met hers were dubious, laced with curiosity and perhaps a hint of skepticism, but none were openly hostile. These were warriors who had learned to trust cautiously, and Rori was determined to earn that trust, and she squared her shoulders, ready to prove herself in the days to come. The camaraderie she sought might not come overnight, but she was determined to earn her place among these warriors and, in doing so, rewrite the narrative that others had unfairly imposed upon her.

As night settled in, she managed to find a few hours of much-needed sleep. The camp, with its distant murmurs and the occasional shuffle of footsteps, became a peculiar lullaby that, against all odds, brought her a measure of comfort.

The periwinkle, predawn light found her already awake as it cast a soft glow on the camp, and she wasted no time in reporting to Mender's tent to begin her duties.