The walk back to the inn from Vargar’s shop had been among the briskest in Urzoth’s life. She did not run for fear of appearing suspicious and thereby being investigated by any guards, yet the information she carried in her brain made her feet feel both far too light and far too slow. The streets went by in a blur, a flurry of noise like a blizzard in the midst of Morshum’s winter, and she was so preoccupied with not sprinting and clanging down the alleys in her excitement that the sagging sign to the inn knocked against the top of her helm and forced her to skid to a halt. She sucked herself back inside, into the shell that responded to General and Champion only, and pushed the door open with a now steeled expression. Durb and Ushtur were sharpening their blades and arrowheads at a table in the corner, and Bulag stood at the counter with his gut pressed forward against its edge, leaning and talking with the unfortunate young bartender. He was swirling a vial between his fingers as his big beard yapped and his neck quivered, and Urzoth could tell the man was bragging. She tugged him out of it with a conspicuous kick to close the door behind her. 

Ushtur was the first to look up, and gave Urzoth a reserved smile and a twiddle of an arrow in greeting. Bulag smoothened down his robes after tucking the vial back into its hiding spot. “Champion,” He said, as if to distract from his recovery. “Do you have news from—“ 

For what felt like the thousandth time, Urzoth interrupted him. “<Hold,>” She murmured in the more common trader’s tongue of the strongholds, “<We cannot trust these other customers. I have found something we will discuss soon.>” She could hear Ushtur abandoning her table to approach Urzoth, and her eyes darted to settle back on a few Redguard dock workers reclining by the further corner of the room. They had stopped their after-work gossip, and now glanced over at the commotion, inclining Urzoth to grip Ushtur’s bicep and pull her into the salt of the midmorning air outside.

“<Did you find out where the Champions are?>” Ushtur looked a little excited, fidgeting with the arrow she still gripped in her fingers, face tilted upward toward Urzoth’s like a child full of wonderment. 

“<No. But the man I spoke with was helpful. I wanted to show you something at low tide.>”

By the time Ushtur and Urzoth, as discreetly as they could, made it back from Vargar’s tunnel, Bulag was pressing them both for news outside the inn. It was around midday, and the sun scorched his beading forehead. Urzoth watched him peer over from the chatting Ushtur every so often to give a few frowning glances, as if indignant that Urzoth had taken Ushtur to see the secret passage herself rather than him, her marginally official second-in-command. Ushtur paused to glance between them and seemed to almost shrink down between them, avoiding the crossfire of words sure to follow. Bulag had his thumbs hooked into his thick waist sash, his throat bobbing. “<Are you sure this is not a ruse to have us arrested, Champion?>”

Urzoth both inwardly and outwardly groaned. In Morshum, any questioning of the chief’s orders would have been met with a swift challenge and inevitable beating. For the city Orcs, the rules were different, and so Urzoth had to force herself to not jab a finger right into the silly band on Bulag’s shoulder. “<Yes, he carved out a deep-running entrance into a drainage pipe just so he could lure some unsuspecting goblin-humper into getting arrested. In doing so making himself look like a damn rebel.>” Her tone was harsh, and for Bulag she offered few niceties. 

Urzoth glanced down at a pressure at her armor, and saw Ushtur was, oddly, pressing a hand to the belly of her breastplate, as if that would quell the brewing conflict. Ushtur glanced up to Urzoth, her eyes hoping she wouldn’t be punished for the inappropriate familiarity (over the years of knowing one another, any pretenses had been thrown away piece by piece as they continued to save one another’s lives, but Ushtur clung to manners still). She spoke, and the others listened. “<We need to trust the General, Bulag. She knows a thing or two about fighting corrupt leadership and working with rebels. Let’s see what this tunnel will send our way.>”