“Your story to Valda was handled pretty well.” Bron said, after Guluss had disappeared inside.

"Where did that come from?” she asked.

"I was thinking about the future. How long until your former master hears word of you and comes looking?“

“I’m not sure. Word about me will spread. I may have told a lie about his decision to let me go, but the gist of it was true. How much longer could Carinus have kept me locked away? And why would he? I hope he will see reason.”

“Did he ever say how you ended up with him?” Bron asked.

“I asked him many times, but he never answered with the truth.” 

Bron frowned. "How do you feel now about Carinus and his hiring of the bandit Taino? If you meet your former master, will you stay your hand? Will you offer words before a battle? 

She hesitated for a moment to think. “I’ll let him speak. I can’t promise anything beyond that.” Her nostrils flared and her eyes grew wide with suppressed anger.

Bron knew she wouldn’t be able to resist violence if she met Carinus. Still, saying that she wouldn’t fight was a step forward. “That’s good, you’ll never find out the truth if you just attack him. Don’t you want to know the truth?”

"I do, but I value my freedom more. I’ve got two decades to make the most out of this life. I’m not getting locked up in some manor again. Even if I were to get captured again, I would smash my way out the very next day!”

Bron chuckled, “Well, hopefully he is aware of this too. I pray he will see reason as well.”

As they talked, they rubbed the salt into the flesh side of their cloaks. By the time they finished, their muscles ached from the effort. But the smell was gone. Both knew that with cold weather approaching, they would need the warm hides. Once this task was finally finished, they looked to each other, realizing they couldn’t put off the inevitable. 

They left their cloaks on the table and set off for the stone church, located close to the gate.

A young priest greeted them at the door and asked them their business. Even just speaking to them seemed to exhaust him. He was slightly wavering on his feet. When they asked for Fara, he frowned, setting his jaw. “So you’re from the guild. I’d ask you not to bother Fara, but she specifically asked for any news of the Adventurer’s Guild. Is this a conversation I should be there for?”

On one hand, having the priest there would help Fara considering the news of her fiance’s death. But there were some words that should be heard by Fara alone. Bron shook his head. “We should talk to her privately.”

He nodded and waved them in, relief evident on his face. As they entered the building, they noted the many townspeople helping with the wounded. There were few wounded, but those who were had lost limbs or had other deep wounds. The priest walked to the most injured, passing his healing magic over reopened wounds. Most stared at the two outsiders and stayed away, but one girl approached Bron. She pointed to his missing hand and asked him if he needs assistance.

He felt a pang in his arm and smiled grimly. “No, this is an old injury.”

And at the back of the temple they saw the girl. She appeared as described to them, light brown hair and eyes and petite. She was tending to a wounded frontiersman with a missing ear and the chunk of skin next to it. Bone was visible through the wound. Of all those directly struck by the blemmyae, he seemed least injured.

She stared up at both of them, as if challenging them. “An orc and a man so big he might as well be one. You’re from the Adventurer’s Guild, aren’t you?”

“We are. And you are Fara?” Bron asked.

“You are here to see me?”

“Yes, we are.” Rhun answered.

“So this is about Lovell.” She ground her teeth, unconsciously shivering. “Go on, say it!”

Bron lowered his head. “He did not survive the quest. It was my fault. I got the party drawn into an ambush.”

The young woman stepped forward, glaring at him. Bron expected a slap, but the vicious right hook to the side of his neck was more than he bargained for. He fell back coughing, grabbing his bruised throat.

The woman advanced another step, raising her fist again. “Someone as strong as you should have protected him!”

Rhunal caught her fist before she could strike again. “You remind me of him.”

“What do you know of him, orc!” She seethed.

“He didn’t like me either, at least at first.”

Bron rubbed his throat, “I should have protected him,” Bron said. “But it was he who saved my life. I know it is no consolation.”

Fara’s eyes filled with tears, Rhun let go of her and she stepped away from the pair. “I told him that damn quest was too dangerous. But he told me the payoff was too good. It could be his last mission. He and I would taken the money and get our start in Greihold.”

She looked up at them, “Did you succeed in the end? Did you finish the mission that killed Lovell? You know by rights, the next of kin are owed their relative’s reward for the quest?”

They looked at each other, realizing they couldn’t tell her everything. “We did, but for reasons that are our own, we could not go back and collect it,” Bron answered. 

Fara’s eyes widened with the realization. “Are you saying the reward is just sitting there in some old crypt?” 

“The reward is the head of a bandit leader, currently cleaved in two under a pile of rubble,” Bron explained.

“It’s been a few weeks, he’s going to be a little ripe.” Rhunal added unhelpfully.