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have to be able to prove themselves, but it is far preferable to everyone (including the other Warlords) to ensure stability in the Bloodskull territory.  Loss of life isnā€™t that big of a deal, as you know, but a war over the scraps of his holdings and responsibility would be a large use of resources and time, disrupting their more essential work: culling monsters.  As much as they are greedy for more territory, Warlords do care about their people; leaving villages undefended could result in losses to non-combatants that couldā€™ve been avoided.ā€

That made sense to Sandra, even if she was opposed to the loss of life an internal war would create.

* How do you know so much about the politics of Warlords? *

Kelerim shrugged as he pulled the sword back out of the forge and brought it over to the anvil again, its color just about the perfect hue for the next step in the process.  ā€œI heard a lot from Warband members over the years while they were waiting for me to finish their orders, and before that I spent a lot of time begging for food scraps in places where important matters were decided.  It was a risk to spend so much time near where the Warlords called home, but they always seemed to have the most edible remnants to spare.ā€

That wasā€¦sad.  It was beneficial right now because it provided some insight into internal politics, but sad, nonetheless.

* Do you know of any potential Warlords you could appoint? *

Now he shook his head for real.  ā€œNo, Iā€™ve been away from those circles for too long, and I wouldnā€™t say that Iā€™m the best judge of strength and character.  I would suggest talking to Furbrea in Grongbak; if anyone near here would know, it would be her.  Plus, I think you can trust her not to point you in the wrong direction.ā€

 

* Thatā€™s a good idea ā€“ thanks. *

Kelerim just smiled.  ā€œNo problem.  Iā€™m glad youā€™re back, Sandra ā€“ now try to stay here, will you?ā€

 

* I will try, Kelerim.  I will try. *

The problem with needing to talk to Furbrea was a relatively simple one ā€“ she couldnā€™t.  Since the de facto leader of the village of Grongbak wasnā€™t Bonded to her, Sandra had no way to actually communicate with the old Orc; it was about time to change that, however, and to reveal a little more than she had originally planned.  While the Dungeon Core had desired to keep the actions of the mercenaries she was ā€œhiringā€ a bit of a secret, now there really wasnā€™t any other choice.  Sandra needed to speak with her, and not through an intermediary.

Finding Owchet ā€“ one of her Orcish mercenaries ā€“ just waking up from his rest after an uneventful shift with the Elves, she used one of her floating Shears and focused on him.

 

* Owchet.  Iā€™m back; I heard it was you who kept things running while I wasā€¦unavailable. *

The mercenary barely twitched at the sudden voice in his head.  ā€œIt was this oneā€™s honor, Leader,ā€ he said, thumping his fist against his chest.  That was new.  ā€œWhat can this one help you with?  More monsters to kill?ā€

 

* Not quite yet, but there will be soon; I estimate that in about 14 hours, youā€™ll have plenty of work to do.  For now, though, I need your assistance. *

ā€œThis one is at your disposal, Leader.ā€  The way he was speaking was a little strange, and while she had been respected by them before, none of the mercenaries had spoken that way.  As she paused for a moment, she asked Winxa what it was all about.

ā€œThey learned how you reacted whenā€¦ā€˜somethingā€™ā€¦happened to set you off, and this only strengthened the respect and honor they felt in helping you.  Or, at least, thatā€™s my impression,ā€ Winxa responded, though she sounded a bit unsure.  Sandra was glad she didnā€™t mention exactly what had made her start to lose control, because she didnā€™t want to take a chance that it would trigger a repeat takeover by the remnants of the Core shard in her mind.

Whatever it was, the Dungeon Core didnā€™t think it was necessarily a bad thing, but she ignored it for the time being.

* Owchet, I need you to bring Furbrea to my dungeon so that I can ask her something.  Very politely, if you can; thereā€™s no need to force her. *

ā€œThis one doesnā€™t mean to question your order, but the village leader does not know what you are.  Is this what you wish?ā€

 

* Yes, it is necessary at this point. *

ā€œYour order will be done.ā€  As Owchet moved across the village, leaving the barracks where half of her mercenaries slept at a time while the others were on shift, Sandra focused on what needed to come next.  She was fairly confident that Furbrea would not refuse to come to the dungeon because the old Orc was curious about what was going on.  Riding on the back of one of the Mechanical Jaguar Queens ā€œstabledā€ near the village ā€“ located behind a small hillock for the easy travel of the mercenaries ā€“ might give her pause, but likely not enough to dissuade her.

Sandraā€™s goal was to retain many more mercenaries than what she was using right now, but to do that required a lot of resources.  Not only to equip them, which would take a bit of work, Mana, and Raw Materials, but to pay for them as well.  Not the usual payment of steel and scarce titanium swords, but some other incentives that would assist with the exchange of help.

It was time to take that gamble, that risk she was considering, and introduce the wider Orcish Warrior population to Energy Orbs.  Desperation was rescinding her earlier hesitation in doing such a thing, as it might encourage even more infighting for the precious

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