Chapter 8 – Part 8

That night, the full-blooded orcs talked to him about different things. Mostly they talked of home, and what they would do with their pay when they returned. They liked Orphan, and not just because Delegado vouched for him, and they discussed things with him freely. They’d also been told by the famous Delegado that Dancing Orphan was trying to learn their language, and this made them proud to teach it.

Orphan found other tasks to keep him busy aside from language skills. There were plenty of mundane tasks to be done, pumping water, stacking firewood, taking out trash, and sharpening weapons. The monk didn’t see any of this as beneath him, the Balanced Palm taught that such work purified both mind and body. He enjoyed being useful.

He also enjoyed the constant activity. The full-blooded orcs, which were roughly a quarter of the population at Blood Crescent, worked at night, and slept during the day. Orphan was used to being alone at night, as he did not sleep, and he enjoyed the camaraderie.

Some of the gnolls were awake at night as well, and a couple of them tried to talk to him, but they made him uneasy. They wanted to discuss the cries of pain from Orphan’s vanquished foes, expressing that they were upset that he had been too far away for them to hear.

He had little to say to such a mindset.

By the time the morning of the twelfth of Zarantyr came, Orphan had picked up a great deal of orc, and learned the names of everyone on the night shift.

The warforged was in a much better mood than he had been earlier when it came time to wake up Delegado.