âOh, her! I like the look of that girl right there.â
âAlrighty! Let me go ask her for her name!â
The very next day, Bash and his winged partner were hard at work âhuntingâ for women on the Do Bangaâs Pitâs main street.
Though this wasnât the kind of âhuntingâ the Orcs regularly did back in the day.
The Hero would see a girl that struck his fancy, and Zell would go up to her to ask her for her name.
She also questioned the prospective mate about whether she was married, and if she was a local.
Afterwards, the Faerie wrote it all down on a sheet of paper that Bash was currently holding.
The pair were gathering intel.
Looking back upon their previous unsuccessful attempts, they realised their failures were mainly due to a lack of information.
Both times Bash had proposed to women who were out of his reach no matter what he did.
Judith had an indelible traumatic experienced caused by Orcs, and Sonia was a far too eminent a personage.
However, had he proposed to any other Elven womanâŠ
For example, a regular Elven soldier, as Breeze had done, she might have responded positively to his advances.
He had to first determine who was truly in reach, and then ask for her hand in marriage according to Dwarven etiquette.
That was the Heroâs fool proof plan for this attempt.
âAlright, I got it. Her name is Pauline, single, commoner, currently works at a tavern a little further down the street. She quite pretty! But really mister, I think you should go for a woman of a higher tier.â
âWeâd have to find one first.â
âOf course! Have no doubt that your loyal companion here will track down your perfect potential wife! Anyways, the list is pretty long now, isnât it? Letâs go and think of a plan to get all of these girls!â
âYosh!â
Collect names, gather information, and strategize accordingly.
They had to figure out what kind of man the woman living here in Do Bangaâs Pit liked, and whether they were open to marrying an Orc.
At the very least, the Hero didnât feel the overt hostility and fear that had been directed at him in Human Country.
Even so, he couldnât lower his guard.
It was essential to have a clear understanding of the situation, and only then proceed with a sure-fire tactic.
Bash and Zell were both seasoned veterans.
They had tasted defeat two times now.
There would not be a third.
âOkay, letâs â âŠâ
It was then that a familiar sound reached Bashâs sensitive ears.
The earth shook from the waves of a thousand shouts coming from afar.
The choir of yells and cries that he had heard so many times during the war.
âHm? Whatâs up boss? You found another woman you like?â
âNo. I hear⊠celebration?â
âOh! One of the ladies told me that there was a coliseum nearby! You wanna go check it out?â
âHmmâŠsure.â
Bash agreed as he turned to follow the sound of the cheers.
The coliseum was easy to find.
It was smack-dab in the centre of the whole mountain and was where the main street ended.
From a distance, it looked like an enormous wall â a sheer rocky cliff.
But as Bash got closer, he could distinguish its details and realised it was a large, circular building.
Approaching even further, he noticed the gaping hole in the townâs ceiling directly above the construction â the previous mouth of the volcano, serving as a natural light source highlighting the coliseum.
An arena of solid stone, built according to Dwarven architecture.
The cheers came from within it.
But that wasnât all. Bash could also distinguish the familiar echoes of metal clashing metal.
Two swordsmen were fighting, from the sounds of it.
âLooks like its pretty popular.â
âSure does.â
A seemingly endless throng of people were coming and going through the coliseumâs entrance, likely to watch the match.
âOh, seems like we need to pay an entrance fee.â
âNo problem. I still have some money left from Siwanasi Forest.â
As they were about to enter, something caught Bashâs eye.
It was a group of individuals, sitting idly near the arenaâs wall.
They looked familiar.
Orcs.
For some reason, a bunch of Orcs were lingering nearby.
Their hands and feet were shacked and tied down with thick iron chains.
âOh, theyâre Orcs. Whatâs going on?â
âWellâŠâ
âStrays?â
âProbably.â
Bash hesitantly affirmed. Of course, he didnât know the names nor the faces of every Orc out there.
Sure, he remembered nearly everyone whom he met within Orc Country in the last three years of peace, but even then he couldnât be sure, as a significant number of Orcs had gone rogue during that time.
In other words, it was hard to determine who had died in combat, who had decided to simply not return, and who had decided to rebel afterwards.
As for this particular bunch, Bash did not recognize their faces.
However, he had the vague impression that he had seen them before, so they must have fought alongside each other at least once during the war.
If that was the case, they must have run away from Orc Country right after peace was brokered.
Seeing as they were now enslaved within Dwarven lands, he wondered if they had come here to wreak havoc and were subsequently caught.
Had they been war captives, the Hero would have rescued them without a second thought.
Unfortunately for them, stray Orcs were no longer Orcs.