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  “Bahaha! Should have seen the look on yer face, lad! Ahahaha!”

  Doror slapped me on the back, reaching up as he did, and laughed much to the enjoyment of the others.

  Of course, my plan to ingratiate the Dwarves into the expedition hadn’t been foolproof. The Dwarves didn’t know how to build ships, not in the traditional sense anyways. But what they lacked in knowledge, they made up for with natural talent and skill. One look at the blueprints and they understood the structure of the ships. Then under the careful guidance of the captain, it was only a matter of time until we had the method of transportation.

  What I hadn’t expected was Zenom’s input.

  “Speed is of the essence.” He said. “What we needed weren’t ships designed for battle, we need a makeshift transport just to get us to the Trader’s League. Just until we could get new ships.”

  Captain Fluporuin nodded. “Aye, exactly what we needed at the time.”

  I hadn’t spoken with the Captain many times but knew enough that he was a sensible man. A strange Dwarf who loved the ocean, but one who knew his trade like the back of his own hand. From what I could see, he had a good relationship with Zenom and some of the crew told me that they’d sailed together before.

  The Bishop sighed from his side of the table, his faithful bodyguards behind him. “Light preserves us all.”

  Ever since the fiasco with Zenom, he had taken a rather passive stance. But one could count on him to pass the snide remark every now and then. Like a defeatist being dragged along for the ride.

  But I knew better. The Bishop didn’t get to his position by being meek.

  He was just waiting.

  Doror, who sat next to me, nodded. “And I built it according to your instructions. My people and I made no mistakes.”

  Captain Fluporuin slammed his fist on the table, leaning towards Doror. “And no one’s blaming ye, eh? So shut yer hole and listen for once ya daft donkey! And you call this a ship?!” He banged on the wall with his fist.

  The wood didn’t even budge.

  The thing wasn’t pretty but it was excellently built.

  Fluporuin rubbed his fist, scowling. “Still ain’t a ship.” He muttered. “And you call yerselves Dwarves?!”

  What Doror and the Dwarves built… it’d be very kind to call it a Barge. But a Barge it was. A transport ship designed to carry hundreds of people; but that was it. Living quarters were horrible, there were no defensive measures to speak of. No cannons, no magical enchantments. The sails were simplistic and changing directions was almost impossible without the Mages on board.

  “You should talk! No good self-respecting dwarf would choose to be a seaman!” Doror gestured wildly at Fluporuin. “Look at what yer wearing! You… You circus tent!”

  “Why you-”

  “I’ll show ye-” The two got up from their seats, the Captain and the Smith rolling up their sleeves.

  I mentioned this before but lore-wise, dwarves were supposed to hate the sea. Hence, the bad blood between the two dwarves.

  I was of the personal opinion that the two didn’t actually hate each other. Quite the opposite. I think Doror was happy to meet another Dwarf of equal authority on this expedition. Most of the Dwarves treated Doror with deference and I think Doror needed this. Kind of like a rival-drinking-buddy. Also, there was Dwarven Social Structure at play here as well. By talking to Fluporuin like this, as an equal, he made sure his people would treat the man with respect.

  So I think it was fine that the two were going to get into a fist fight. They’d drink together and make up later.

  But I don’t think a lot of the other crew members got that.

  Borealis stepped in immediately, “Please, Elder Stonehammer. Captain Fluporuin. You two shouldn’t be acting like this.”

  The Knight-Captain (I only recently found out he held this position) had been sucking up to Stonehammer ever since realizing that his people were Smiths. I don’t think anyone knew that Doror was a Master Smith, but the value of Doror was beyond his own skills. He was the leader of his people, and his opinion of the adventurers swayed his smith’s work. If Doror didn’t like you, they might not even do a good job of cleaning your equipment. Hence, Borealis and every other party leader had been treating Doror with more than just simple respect.

  The two dwarves huffed and puffed at each other, making no effort to break apart. It reminded me of two dogs growling at each other. Not the scary kind. Like a chihuahua and a toy poodle.

  “Slaveborn.” Zenom muttered.

  I sighed and stood up, walking between the two. “That’s enough.” I said simply. Then just to add a measure of respect, “Please.”

  “Aye, if you say so, Slaveborn.” Doror gave Fluporuin one last glare and went back to his seat.

  Fluporuin, who listened to no one except Zenom, gave me a glance. Usually, if someone tried to get in his way, he would kick them in the ass –quite literally. He’d throw a fit. But the same way that Doror’s treatment of Fluporuin garnered him respect from the Stonehammer Clan, Doror’s treatment of me had changed Fluporuin’s own stance towards me.

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  The Captain went over to his own seat and plopped down.

  “Thank you, Slaveborn.” Zenom said gravely.

  I returned to my seat. “You don’t have to fight him at every turn.” I said under my breath, knowing full well he liked doing it.

  Doror glanced at me sideways. “We both know that ain’t true.”

  I gave him a curt nod, turning my attention back to the meeting.

  Soon after the ‘Orc Raider Incident’ where the investigation turned up nothing, Zenom had changed the leadership structure drastically.

  Whereas before, it had been Zenom, Cecilia and the Bishop in charge, with Borealis often relaying messages between the adventurers, now it was a much larger group. The purpose was to exchange information, foster cooperation between the different adventurering parties as well as the clergy.

  Around the round table sat Zenom, Cecilia and the Bishop.

  Then came the party leaders. Arione, Borealis, Delas and me.

  Finally, the two dwarves; Captain Fluporuin and Doror Stonehammer.

  This was the third week of sailing and we were meeting for the tenth time.

  The soft sea breeze carried the smell of the ocean brine, causing me to wrinkle my nose in distaste. The sharp scent awakened me from my idle thoughts, returning my attention to the meeting.

  “Arione, report.” Zenom gave the go ahead.

  “Sailing is smooth. We’ve had good wind since yesterday, so there was little input needed from the Mages.” Arione said dryly, “There were a few times when I had to step in. But so far, there has been no sign of bad weather or monsters beyond the norm.”

  “How long until we reach the Free Trader’s League then?” Cecilia asked.

  “If all goes as well, less than a week, I imagine.” Fluporuin said.

  Cecilia and Zenom shared a look.

  “Uh oh.” Delas said casually, leaning over to elbow me in the ribs. “Something’s up.”

  I ignored him.

  For a week after my ambush, Delas avoided me like the plague. Then ever since I returned with Doror, he started acting friendly again. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted. I thought acting cold and distant would make him give up, but if anything he redoubled his efforts. Annoying as it was, I think some sick part of me enjoyed the situation. A former enemy having no choice but to swallow his pride and suck up to me. It made me feel some sadistic satisfaction each time I saw the expression on his face, torn between choosing his pride or trying to get something he knew I would never give.

  I tried to ignore that feeling the best I could.

  “If we can reach the Free Trader’s league in less than a week, food won’t be a problem.” Zenom looked to Brealis for confirmation.

  “Yes.” He answered simply.

  “Delas?”

  “A million gold, maybe a little more.” Delas had been in charge of figuring out exactly how much gold the expedition had in its stores, from all the monsters parts as well as the common loot that belonged to the Church.

  I was lucky that most of my party’s hunting had been done in private. A lot of the parties had their best drops happen on the ship and had those ‘taxed’. Otherwise, robbed by the Church. ‘Tithe’ they called it. It was common practice in inter-party expeditions like this. Large Clans also did the same thing. Most of t he goods were taken by Clan Management and then doled out as they saw fit. Chump change for those down below.

  Trickle-down economics is a real bitch when you’re on the bottom.

  “That’s enough for a frigate.” Fluporuin commented. “A small one. Definitely not enough for a battleship.”

  “The church has other funds.” Zenom dismissed Fluporuin’s worries.

  “Might I humbly just say,” The Bishop said, “that the Church’s coffers are not limitless?”

  “And what does the Bishop suggest?” Cecilia’s veil barely moved as she spoke.

  The Bishop looked at Doror. “We do have some individuals on this fleet whose services could be… well used, in the name of the Light, Flame and Shield.”

  Doror bristled, then looked to me.

  “Zenom.” I said, a warning in my voice.

  Doror knew better than to talk back to the Bishop. He didn’t need to.

  His people had me.

  Because I told the others day 1, the moment they start to abuse this relationship with the Dwarves, I would be the first person to step in. And there were plenty of other adventurers in the fleet whose sentiments for non-humans ran deep within their blood and culture. All the beastman, elves and dwarves would not stand for the Dwarves being treated like that.

  Especially after they saw Skaris’ shiny new spear.

  “That is not an option.” Zenom said.

  Doror let out a breath. “Worry not. Most of my people will stay behind in the Trader’s League. Only a small group will be accompanying you. Any gold left over that we can spare, we’ll contribute to this place.”

  “What?” I frowned, turning to Doror. “I thought all of you were going to stay in the Trader’s League.”

  “Most of us will.” Doror frowned back at me, “It’s only a few of us who’ll be coming with you, Slaveborn.”

  “No, that’s not what we agreed on.” This was the first I heard of this.

  “Well, I can’t let you go on alone now, can I? Y-you’re just a lad.” Doror actually looked flabbergasted. “I can’t let you just go gallivanting off on yer own. Y-your sword and shield. Yer armor, and the spear! The Forge knows-”

  The Bishop literally hissed as Doror mentioned the dwarven god by name.

  Zenom cleared his throat. “Would you two mind discussing that in private?”

  Doror clammed up, giving me a nervous look like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “This isn’t over.” I tried to steel my voice with anger and it wasn’t hard. I’d gotten quite good at it.

  Doror nodded, leaning back in his seat.

  “The ships aren’t the problem. The problem is the time that we’ll spend in the Trader’s League.” Zenom addressed all of us again, “According to our records, the Imugi’s hunting schedule will overlap with our route if we do not make haste.”

  “So we have to get the ships as soon as possible.” Borealis surmised, “How fast?”

  “A week at most.”

  Fluporuin scoffed. “Organize an entire fleet in less than a week? That’s impossible lad.”

  “That’s why we sent out the scouting force yesterday.” Delas said, “If they make it in time, they can lay the groundwork, yeah?”

  “Lot of good that group can do, when all the decision makers are here.” Fluporuin shot back.

  “They will rendezvous with the branch there and hopefully smooth out the process.” Zenom proposed, “But we must consider the worst case scenario.”

  “...Which is?” I asked, participating in the meeting of my own accord for the first time.

  Zenom took a breath. “I want you all to be prepared to travel without the auxiliary forces.”

  Everyone looked at each other.

  They may never have been named, but the Auxiliary forces made up the bulk of our forces. And I knew how important they were. They were the backbone of the expedition, taking care of stray monster attacks, stocking the food and protecting the ships while the main forces delved into the dungeon. Without them, the expedition’s difficulty would jump.

  “I know what everyone is thinking.” Seeing out expressions, Zenom spoke., “So I want to propose this.”

  “If you can find a party to replace yours in the Free Trader’s League, I will give your party to drop out.” He continued, “Of course, the Church will reimburse you for your time as well as for the travel fares back home.” He stood up, as the party leaders gathered here all began to frown at one another, “Please work out the details with Cecilia. That’s all.”

  Then he left.

  I stared after the Holy Knight as the crowd began to talk amongst one another. Borealis stood up and left soon after.

  Doror tugged on my sleeve.

  “Lad, what’re ye going to do?”

  I bit my lip, thinking about things long forgotten in the life-or-death situations. Of the reasons why I came into this expedition in the first place.

  Oung. The Pact with Clover. The potential for growing stronger.

  And the unexpected risks I’d encountered.

  Aurora starting to lag behind everyone as well as Stole’s mental weakness. Plus, I was now responsible for the Dwarves…

  “I don’t know.” I said, surprising myself. “I don’t know.”

  The expedition felt like it just got back on course, but Zenom’s promise of a way out was sweeter than anyone had expected.

  Perhaps even sweeter than all the honey that was waiting for us in the Promised Land.