You feel the rumbling of the cart under your padded butt. After Eldrakha's lovers had recruited her for their mercenary company, you tagged along as a "Quazork"--a human who lives in an orcish community. Since orcs are without exception terrible at magic, your ability to perform journeyman spells to enchant weapons or heal wounds made you a valued member of the company. Mostly, you were accepted as a funny looking orc (unknown to you, Dwezzo had used the Chronivac to give you complete command of the local orcish dialect) although the humans you encountered, with very few exceptions, treated you with contempt as a traitor to humanity.
Eldrakha remained your favorite sex partner, and the two of you had been bonded as lifemates. The orcish concept of lifemateship, however, did not include sexual exclusivity, a concept that fell in the broad range of "bullshit only a human would be dumb enough to care about." In your first couple of months with the company, you had fucked everyone in it. Orcs were so ridiculously sexy and it felt so, so good to submit to them!
You rub your stomach contentedly. In a few months, another half-orc would come into the world.
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Dwezzo had made a deal with the city government to turn the soldiers--turned--nymphs--turned librarians back into soldiers in exchange for letting Bopkin go free. He wasn't particularly fond of Bopkin, but a gnome is a gnome and shouldn't be held prisoner by humans.
Of course, the city didn't get all of its soldiers back. Some, like the former Urmak and Sharona, were still out in the woods and essentially unrecoverable without tracking them down with the Chronivac on their home turf, something Dwezzo, who found nature annoying, had no intention of doing. And Dwezzo had held back the pulchritudinous gnome-lady and rare-book enthusiast as a steady girlfriend and librarian. It was time to settle down. Unfortunately, the gnome-lady had formerly been Captain Mikos, leaving a gap in the command structure of the local military, but that wasn't Dwezzo's problem.
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Bopkin examined the collection of rare truffles and other potion ingredients that Umbra and Sylvana were offering in exchange for more potions. "These seem adequate" he sniffed and handed over five vials. His stock was limited, because despite frantic efforts he had not found a way to duplicate the effects of the "strength" potions. Sometimes potion work was like that, lucky or disastrous accidents. With a few dozen vials left and connections with nymphs who could locate rare ingredients with ease, though, Bopkin felt pretty good about the future.
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Umbra grinned at the five woodcutters trapped in tough vines. All had cut live trees rather than the dead trees permitted to them. "Now" she said "You have a choice. We can leave you here for the wolves, or, you can drink one of these potions--then you'll be free to go if you want."