Page 19 of Steel & Thunder
“It looks good on you.” He reaches forward to fix a button I missed near my collar. “I was right about your eyes.” He runs his thumb down the side of my face.
I’m blushing more now than when I was naked.
This process repeats with another five shirts and three pairs of pants, all in varying shades and cuts. There are even some shorts that actually fit me. I wouldn’t mind if the shirts did more to hide the collar, though. Captain Ironstorm seems to like everything, or at least doesn’t have anything negative to say. After I hand him the last set, he hands me back the first.
“Go ahead and change into those.” He picks up the clown clothes I walked in here wearing and stuffs them into his bag. “I will not force you to wear these the rest of the day.”
“Thanks.” I give a genuine smile as I redress for the final time.
Gathering the clothes together, Ironstorm moves to the counter the shopkeeper has returned to, placing them all on top.
“Everything he tried on was perfect. We will take them all.” He reaches into his leather pouch, producing an even smaller pouch.
“I would have to agree with you, sir. He looks wonderful.” She looks me over and smiles brightly. Probably more at the news of a sale than how I look. She sorts through the clothes on the counter and makes note of what I’m wearing before she starts to fold everything neatly. “I can do twenty-five gral for everything.”
“More than fair.” I watch as he produces two golden coins and five silver ones and drops them in her hand. They are all inscribed with symbols I wouldn’t understand even if I could make them out from here, but I can still tell what the coins are made of. It’s the same kind of money the rest of the world uses and more proof that they aren’t as primitive as we were led to believe.
“Thank you very much. Should you have any more clothing needs, I hope you will return.” The shopkeeper happily deposits the coins in her own pouch.
Ironstorm gives a small bow after stuffing the folded clothes and his money back into his satchel. She must have been good at folding them since the bag doesn’t seem to be bulging out like I would expect. Or at all, really. Throwing it over his shoulder, he makes his way toward the exit. I turn and give the woman an awkward wave before chasing after him.
I guess I have a sugar orc now.
Chapter Six
The leash is re-clipped to my collar as soon as we step outside. I sigh but don’t argue—just follow. Even in nicer clothes, there are still enough people around that I’d rather not cause a scene. At least now I can look around with fewer people staring at me.
“Khazak!” Dammit, it’s the orc from before. Now that I’m not embarrassed about meeting his eye, I get a better look at him. He’s got the same height and build as Ironstorm, but his longer brown hair is pulled into a small bun. They greet each other again, much less boisterously this time. After exchanging a few words, the other orc looks me over again before turning to Ironstorm and saying...something. What was that? I roll my eyes, but keep to myself since it’s apparent that they have no intention of including me. Instead, I’ll do what I usually do when there’s time to kill in a town: people-watch.
The market is still busy with orcs of all shades and sizes roaming between the different stalls. Thankfully none of them seem to be looking at me. I actually see a few non-orcs too. There are more than a few humans, a handful of elves, and even a green-haired gnome manning a wheeled cart full of mechanical knick-knacks. Almost all of them have skin tanner and darker than mine. I keep turning my head to look around and do a double-take when I spot someone else in a collar. An orc. No leash though, so maybe it’s just a fashion statement?
But then I see another orc in a collar, this one with a leash that is being held by a different orc. They both seem to be happily looking over a display of...rugs. They’re all smiles while they talk to each other, at least. I continue scanning the crowd and spot another collar and leash, this time on an elf. An elf who is making eye contact with me. He turns his head to the side, giving me a questioning look which I return until I am distracted by the sound of the two orcs next to me hugging, seemingly done with their conversation. The other orc says something to me I obviously don’t catch before waving and turning into the crowd. After waving in return, Ironstorm turns to me and then leads us down the street and out of the market.
“That was an old friend of mine. We were schoolmates.” Ironstorm slows to walk next to me as he explains. “His mother has been sick, but he wanted me to know that she is feeling much better.”
“Oh. That’s good.” Again, I know that orc moms exist, but I’ve never really thought about one before.
“He also found you attractive,” he adds.
I do another double-take. “Huh?”
“He thought you were cute. He liked the new clothing.” He speaks like it’s nothing.
“Should I have said thank you?” What is the etiquette here exactly?
“I told him for you. He would not have understood you.” Good point.
We continue walking together in a comfortable silence, with him next to me instead of in front. He said we were doing paperwork next, something I have very little interest in learning about. Now that we’re out of the market and I’m not tripping over myself, I’m able to take in more of my surroundings. There are fewer orcs here, all just going about their daily lives. I am happy that no one seems to be paying me any attention despite the leash. Looks like we’re in a residential area, though I have no real way of telling a home from a business here.
The buildings are still made of wood and stone. I’m noticing now that a lot of them, especially the frames, are made of that same type of wood as Ironstorm’s furniture. It looks like it’s been bent into shape perfectly, bark and all. The walls are made of more traditional lumber on top of a stone base, but even the stones seem to be melded together with the surrounding materials just a little too well. Seems like the people here have found a lot of different uses for magic.
Ahead of us, just around the corner, I can see an open grassy field, and as we get closer and more of it peeks out from behind the buildings, I notice all of the people in it. Children run around, some older orcs wrestle and spar while others just sit and eat. There are trees and a small pond—it’s a park. When we finally reach the corner and it comes into full view, I also see the large stone building on the other side of it.
It’s not as big as the arena, but it’s larger than any of the other structures I’ve seen. It’s also made entirely of stone; if there’s any wood, I’m not seeing it. There’s a series of large statues out front, six that I can see. Each features a different orc, men and women, most holding some sort of weapon aloft. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s where we’re headed.
“The Tribal Hall,” Ironstorm informs me when he sees me taking the building in.
We cut across the road and enter the park, walking a well-worn trail through the grass. A gaggle of orc children suddenly cut through our path, seemingly playing a game that I assume exists everywhere: tag. A few more meters and we pass a pond on our right and a man with a cart on the left. Whatever he’s selling—some kind of meat on a stick—it smells really good.
