19th Limestone, 101 (early autumn)

“Sir, there are merchants here to see you. They say they’ve heard of us through the freelancers.”

“Thank you, Jaxy,” said Tarrlox, looking up from a tuskox skull he was decorating. “Please help coordinate moving our goods to the depot. I’ll be out once I’ve finished this project.”

Later that week…

“Sir, the merchants have finished unpacking, and are geting restless. They’re wondering if you’d like to trade?”

“Of course, Talth, but I don’t remember the last time I took a break. Tell them I’ll be along shortly.”

The next week…

“Scrawny dreamwalker! Why you no trade?”

“Oh, Vyctryx! I was just having a drink. Would you like some?”

“Uh… Okay!”

The next month…

“Sir, the traders…”

“Are leaving. Yes, Gief, I know.”

“But… are you mad? Have you looked at our supplies recently?”

“Yes, Gief, I have. We having nothing to trade with.”

“But we do! Tarkuul just finished another set of wargear, and some of us have been making bone journals, decorated with bone! They’re great for sticking in your ear…”

“A fashion trend I still do not appreciate. Tell the hill orc traders that we appreciate their visit, but we consider it a matter of honour to trade first with our own kind. They will understand.”

“And the warlock traders?”

“Tell them… Tell them whatever you think will make them leave. I’ve seen much in my dreams, but I only see warlocks in my nightmares…”