The next week flew by in a flurry of activity. The rules laid upon them were not as strict as Devin feared they would be, though he knew they would be worse if Elm had more of his way in writing them. The Black Boar Band was confined to the Weeping Gardens for a trial period of two weeks, not allowed to leave the confines of the Gardens. After the two weeks, they would be able to go into the city without explicit approval from a Regent, but still with an escort.

Devin stood outside the house they had given his friends to stay in. It was on a slight hill, overlooking a valley and river below, fed by multiple waterfalls that seemingly descended from the air itself, or a roof he could not see, giving the gardens their name. It was beautiful, in its own strange way. Gray stone made up the majority of everything here, with splashes of color signifying plants that somehow managed to live underground.

In the valley below Teryn was somewhere, surely chasing after a farmer or any other Orc who would stop and answer her questions. Devin couldn't help but wonder himself at how they managed to grow such lavish crops in this land. There was no sun, just an ever present grayness above him and the heatless lights around him.

The lights were the first thing he had asked about when they were brought to their new home. The guard simply shrugged and told him they had always been there. A timeless occurrence that no one here questioned. He had pressed others about it but gotten similar results. When they let him out of their temporary hold in the Garden, the first place he would visit with supervision was the immense library, a monolithic stone structure featuring statues of various orcs. He could see it now, crouching on the hill across from the one he stood, imposing and yet inviting.

A small twinge in his right hand brought him back to the present. He brought up his hand, marveling at what the Orcs had been able to do. He still wore Teryn’s rope, but it was more of a memento than anything else. The angry infection had receded, leaving only pink ghostly lines to show what his hand had gone through. They were able to stop the infection as well as clear it out of his system.

The small bits of his fingers that were left were now stitched up, after having been painfully cleaned and scraped off all signs of disease and rot. They still hurt, but nothing like what he had endured on the trip up here. They were shorter than they had been after the original cut as well, the rot had eaten away most of his fingers.

Thinking about the trip brought his mind to Daisy. She was unharmed and unpunished, much to Devin’s relief and Dahlia’s disbelief. Dahlia had come to them the night they settled into their new home and explained the three in favor votes were swayed by him looking out for an Orc he hardly knew, at his own peril.

He had not been able to see Daisy yet, but was told time and time again she was safe and recovering from her own ordeals. He could expect to see her once they were released from the Gardens into the wide city of Grinnish.

He flexed his hand, feeling the slight tug of the stitches on his two quarter fingers. He changed his mind. The library would not be the first place he would go. Visiting a weaponsmith and getting two new daggers crafted, one to fit his maimed hand specially, was now his goal. He flexed his hand again, working out the knots of the muscles. He would need to train a long time with these daggers to get back to his fighting form.

But what to name them? Thorn and Blossom were lost, though they would always hold a special place in his heart. He brought his hand up to his chin and rested it there, thinking hard.

A large hand came to rest on his shoulder, and Devin turned to face Griff.

“What do you think, Griff?”

The large man looked out over the city, his eyes unreadable. He gave a small shrug, “It's alright.”

Devin smiled at his friend. The man had become downright talkative since they had started saying at this house, sometimes even speaking multiple sentences in a day. He hoped he was on his way to healing from whatever damage his ex spouse had done.

“Thoughts?” Griff asked.

“I am thinking about what I am going to name the two new daggers that I will forge once we are allowed out of the Weeping Gardens.”

Devin chewed his cheek a bit as the two men sat in silence. After several moments, Griff finally broke it. “Daisy and Dahlia.”

Devin was slightly taken aback, “Name them after the two Orc women?”

Griff shrugged again, letting his hand slide off Devin's shoulder, “They did much to save us, whatever their intentions were.”

With that, Griff turned and strolled slowly down the smooth path, descending into the valley and farmland below. Devin watched his friend go, disappearing from sight around a bend behind a large tree with tiny blade-like leaves, its branches dipping down to touch a small creek that ran by it.

Dahlia and Daisy. Yeah, that would do just fine. It fit the earlier theme, and he could think of nothing better to honor the two fighters who had helped him than naming his new weapons after them. A slow smile crept over Devin's face.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small compass Regent Rose had given to him. She had left all of them one to help them better navigate the city once they were released since they had no features to rely on to tell directions.

He flicked the lid open and turned in place, rotating until the arrow on the compass directed him south. Looking up, he saw the sprawling city below him, with small hills and large buildings perched on top of them fading into the hazy, gray distance. Somewhere beyond that and the thick stone of the mountain Mossglenn Depot laid.

“Watch out Bronn. The Black Boar Band will be back for you and will make you pay for everything you have done. This time, we will have help.”

He snapped the lid of the compass shut, teeth bared in a savage grin.

(End of Part 1)