In the Badlands of Thar

Somewhere in Thar, not too far from a certain watchpost ...

"Think on't, Dagryg," Gywahier insisted. "The humans round the whole of the coast are too busy scrabbling with each other over this town or that to move against us, tis true, but they mayn't be so forever, and, more to my point, our forces each alone are too little but for petty raids." The giantess leaned back in her too-small chair, her hands sliding across the grease-stained table.

Dagryg grunted and chewed the last bit of gristle from the calf haunch before tossing the bone to the table. "Ain' like you ain' said it afore," he reminded her, staring coolly at the blue-skinned woman. "I still don' see how it fits me and my boys to join us up to you. Ogres an orcs git the ass-end every time we hook up wit giantkind," he groused. Shaking his head, he stood up from the bloody and battered table. "I says I'd think on't las time you acksed," he said, poking his temple with a meaty index finger. "You know us ogres ... we're slow thinkers, eh?" He laughed and walked out through the curtain and short hall that led to his quarters.

Dagryg hummed a bloody tune as he filled a chamberpot, grinning at his clever joke, until a very slight sound caused him to turn sharply, splashing the wall with the last of the night's ale. A red-haired human leaned casually against the wall.

"Wh--Daumar, you grot!" the ogre chortled. "I tells you never to sneak up on me. I might mistake you fer an elf girl and give ya a pain in yer seat!" he gave a lewd pelvic thrust in the human's direction and rumbled with laughter as he drew up his pants. "Whatcha want?"

The human smiled thinly. "It's not what I want, mate," he said quietly. "It's what you want."

The ogre just scratched his head, so Daumar continued.

"A relic of Vorbyx," he said, pausing to let the ogre register the name, "has recently surfaced, in Melvaunt."

"Yeah?" the ogre murmured.

Daumar nodded. "And those who have it are already looking to find more," he added. "Seems it may be a key to ... something."

The ogre's piggish eyes narrowed. "The tomb," he said, anger rising in his face.

The human nodded, picking up his bow from Dagryg's bedskins and walking toward the door. "They've gone to the Watchpost," he said. "Five or six. Human, dwarf, elf, gnome." He turned back toward Dagryg. "The biggest human carries a greatsword. He must not be killed. Capture him if you can and hold him here for me, otherwise let him go. Kill the rest."

"Wh'bout Vorbyx?" the ogre asked. "This key ... will ... will the Red Lady show me how ta work it?"

Daumar nodded. "You are Vorbyx's heir," he said. "She has seen that, and she is at your service. But you must do what needs to be done."

"Don't worry about me and my boys," Dagryg grinned as the ranger slipped out of the room. "We'll kill em up real nice."