"I have recruited two warriors to be our bodyguards and who go with us," Dimitri said in way of greetings. "I think you know Angus and you have seen Gerrex fight in the pits."

"Well met," I said to the two warriors nodding. I noticed Angus was wearing worn and patched woolen clothes under and equally worn cloak that may have once been blue. Angus was a hunchback, but still very capable with his big blade, which he was wearing on his crooked back. The orc was bigger than I thought and his height rose over mine and he was thickly muscled. He had a large single edged sax knife tied to his belt and was a long as my arm from my elbow to my fingertips. He only wore a thin gray cloak and clothes made of sackcloth to keep out the chill of the night. Still, being an orc, he would never show weakness by shivering or complaining about the cold.

"Well met," answered Angus, but the orc just nodded. I am sure the orc recognized me, but displayed no gratitude for giving him the potion that saved his life. Orcs do not think that way, to them everyone owns their own actions and that others are acting out of self-interest when they do something for you, not that orcs are big on charity. For them, misfortune and strife are convenient ways to weed out the weak.

"I met Godfrey Barlson at the tavern where I found Angus," Dimitri said to me. "I have told him we are in need of his services, and he is available. He told me there is a small group of Veshi mercenaries in town, crossbowmen, looking for work. He thinks he can recruit them as wagon guards, I told him to do so if he could. I also told him we would stop by tomorrow so you could fill him in on the details. Is that alright?"

"Yes," I replied, "I have confirmed with our patron that he wants our quest to go forward."

"Then I need some coin to pay Angus and Gerrex here," Dimitri replied.

I pulled out my purse and dumped a handful of silver coins into my hand. I had twenty five silver pennies on me, ten of which went to each of the fighters. As I handed out the money I said, "Here is your first payment. There will be more later, but this is all I have on me."

"Good enough," beamed Angus. "As I told Dimitri here, I must go and pay my landlord or he may well kick me out tonight. Do you know when we are leaving?"

"As soon as we can," I replied. "I am thinking it will take a fortnight to get everything ready, plus recruit some more party members. Of course, the weather will play a factor in our going, but we leave by the first day of of Fifth Month no matter what."

"I will be ready to go," Angus replied. "Do you know anyone with armor for sale, I had to sell mine for coin."

"I may have some," I said to the hunchback, "and if not, we will buy you some."

"Good enough," Angus said happily and he bid us a good night and promised to meet us on the morrow at my place at noontide. He then left us with a wave as he sauntered down the street.

Just then a very expensive carriage, shining with brass lamps enchanted with Continual Light spells and bearing the crest of the Doge pulled up next to the three of us. A short rotund man in fine clothes, mostly made of red velvet, and heavily oiled hair dropping off his head in waves hopped out of the carriage and approached me.

"The Doge would speak with you," he made it an order to be obeyed and I did, following him over to the carriage and its open door. I did not get in, such a thing would be above my station, so stood looking up at the disapproving face of the Doge. Up close, he looked older than had before.

"I have some more question for you, Mage Barrim," he said in his imperious voice.

"I will answer them if I can, Excellency."

"During your deposition," he intoned, "you said that the rune we saw was neither of the Rune of Power from the Arcane Language nor a Glyph from the Divine school of spells. Can you explain what it is if it is of neither class?"

"Perhaps the Sages of the White Tower, may know the true answer as I do not, your Excellency," I replied. "But I will speculate that it is somehow both a religious glyph and a rune of power all at once. Although that makes no sense by any theory of magic or theological understanding. The previous time I saw the rune, it was being used by a Drow mage, and yet this mage was the leader of a cult. That cult was trying to bring something through a sort of rift with what I would call a religious sacrifice. I do not think this rune or glyph is of this world, or even of this reality. How it came to be in this world I do not know, but I fear it and what it means."

The Doge nodded in understanding or dismissal, anyway I was gently pushed back so the short man that had first approached me could get back in the carriage. By the time the door was shut, the carriage was already rolling forward leaving me standing in the street by myself. I walked back over to my companions.

"Getting audiences with the Doge," Dimitri said with a wry smile. "You are moving up in the world."

"Joke all you want," I replied testily, "but I am telling you straight, getting involved with tower dwellers is never a good thing. The higher up their towers go, the further you fall. Let us retire to my place for food and drink, I do not feel like going to a tavern tonight."

"I can only accompany you until we pass the Street of Bakers, and there I must leave you two and attend to some personal business. Gerrex here will accompany and stay with you as your bodyguard."

With that we started walking toward my place down hills. The sky above was only partially covered in tattered clouds and the moon above gave enough light to just see by, but I took no chances and I pulled out a miniature lantern, about the size of crabapple, from a belt pouch and opened its shutters to flood the area with light. I shined the light in every dark alleyway we crossed. I was not about to be surprised by an ambuscade again!

"What is thy clan, Gerrex?" I asked the orc in his own rasping tongue. Both Dimitri and I spoke fair orcish. The orc did not seem surprised at being questioned in his own tongue.

"No clan," the big orc replied.

That answer surprised me. An orc without a clan was almost unheard of, but I did not press the issue. Only the greatest of personal catastrophes could separate an orc from his clan, and it would never be done willingly, but I was not going to press him for details. One does not deliberately provoke an orc with one's idle curiosity.

"Thou knows that I am a mage," I asked the orc, "a worker of spells and enchantments?"
Orcs did not like magic and none of their kind ever walked the path of power, indeed any orc showing magical aptitude would be killed instantly.

"Aye," replied the Orc.

There was nothing more I could think of to say to the orc, so the three of us walked on until we got to the Street of Bakers and Dimitri said goodbye and headed for his lodgings, denying the need for an escort and so Gerrex and I went on our way. We had not gone far when something made me turn around, my dagger drawn. Gerrex had his own knife out. In a moment, Dimitri appeared in the light of my lantern.

"On second thought," he said with a face flush from running, "I think I will join you at your place."

I looked at Dimitri, who tried to hide his sudden change of mind behind an air of innocence indifference, but failing.

"Let me guess," I said. "Debtors are at your door."

"Worse," he replied. "An angry woman."

I laughed at my friend and we continued on to my place. It was only after I crossed my own threshold did I let out a sigh of relief. The orc sniffed around like a hound, getting used to the scents of the place. He also walked through my place, going into my bedroom and down into the basement without asking.
"He is checking to see if anyone is here besides us," Dimitri offered up as explanation. "He is just doing what he needs to do to protect you."

"I know," I replied. "I am not angry."

When the orc returned I gestured my guests to the table in the corner of my shop and said, "Dimitri, would you get the fire going while I bring us up some food and ale."

I went into the basement and moved a half-filled barrel of flour out of the way to reveal the stone floor beneath. With some difficulty, I got the stone that covered the hole in the floor up and moved aside. Inside the hole was a bucket with two bags in it. I lifted up the bucket by its handle and took out the larger of the two bags. The smaller one held my wealth, but the larger held more practical items. I replaced the stone and the barrel and grabbed some sausages and cheese stored in the basement after I filled a pewter pitcher full of ale. I took my burdens upstairs to my guests.

An hour later, after the pitcher of ale had been refilled twice and a copious amount of my food eaten, the table and floor around it was covered in adventuring gear taken from inside the Bag of Holding I had brought up. We had organized everything by piles. There were piles of boots, clothing, rope, armor, weapons, shields, bedding, cookware, and other miscellaneous items shoved in the bag from a decade of adventuring. The orcs eyes had grown large as all the stuff came out of such a small bag, but he said nothing as he watched.

"By Holy Beffa , have you been carrying around all of these things like a pack rat?" Dimitri asked me, somewhat awed himself at the pile of things in front of him.

"I was the leader of a party of adventurers," I explained to him as if he was slow of thought, "and the only thing I could count on is that at least one of them forgetting something vital when were already halfway to our goal. That is why I carry these things."

"You could open up a storefront with all this junk."

"Look through those clothes," I said to Gerrex ignoring Dimitri, "and find yourself something to wear. Even an orc can be brought low if they are not properly dressed for the weather, and take one of those cloaks. Then pick out some bedding, armor, and weapons."

Gerrex said nothing, among the orcs, chieftains and leaders gave their followers gifts in exchange for loyalty. He began to sort through the things lying about and soon he was dressed in much better clothing and his sandals had been replaced with a worn, but functional, pair of boots. A gambeson, stained with someone else's sweat, went over his head followed by a chain hauberk that covered his arms to the wrists and his torso down to his knees. He added two bronze greaves and an enchanted shield painted with three stylized eagles as drawn by the Northmen. A single bit bearded axe with a minor enchantment was thrust into his belt. Upon his head he sat a nasal helm with a chain aventail to protect the neck and throat. Gerrex moved around and twisted his torso to make sure his new armor and clothes did not bind. He looked formidable before, but fully armed and armored, he was a fearful sight.