“Lar’Ra, welcome to our village!” La’Borra booms, waving his arms to grab attention as he turns to the crowd. “Cho, har Lar’Ra, wur Mosh’Gwyr!” They cheer, and I feel the prickle of anxiety. Something about all this bothers me… Why should I be the center of attention? Can’t I just exist in this world quietly? Do they all have to know who I am? A big party, this huge gathering, it’s all just so…!

Lost in thought, I don’t even notice that everyone’s left until La’Borra taps me gently on the arm.

“W-what…?” I ask, confused at this turn of events.
“Well, now that everyone has greeted you, they’re returning to their daily lives.”
“I mean… Well, I’m glad I’m getting my space…” Tension floods out of me, and La’Borra smiles serenely.
“Come, come, let me give you a tour of our village. If you’re to live here, you ought to know the layout of your new home!”

“Here we have the kitchen, where the chefs in our community make food for all the people of the village.” La’Borra explains.
I look at the building he’s brought me to. Large, built of cut stone & wood, covered in white canvas, with softer, fuzzier cloth loosely hanging in front of openings serving as windows and doorways. I can see a few fire pits arranged in a semi-circle outside of the building itself, next to what seems to be a communal wash basin made of fired clay.
“So, are you not allowed to cook for yourselves?” I ask uncertainly.
“Oh, now that’s not the case at all!” He chuckles. “This is simply a much cleaner solution for us. It is faster to feed many if you prepare everything in one place.” Then he frowns. “However, you are not allowed to use communal stores of food for your personal meals, as that food is for use by the chefs to feed many more than just you.”
“Yeah, alright, that makes sense… But then, when you cooked for me, where did you get the ingredients?”
“Ahaha…” La’Borra’s tone turns nervous. “I’ll admit that I took a very small pot of supplies... Let’s keep that between us, okay?”
I smile conspiratorially at him. “Well then. Thank you for the food - I appreciate it greatly.”
Smiling back at me, he then leans in past through one of the doorways and says something in Orcish. A voice inside answers him, and I find myself wishing I knew the language, as I’m starting to feel left out of all these conversations…

Turning me around, La’Borra shows me that almost immediately behind where we are now is a very imposing yurt on a wooden platform.
“This is our chieftains’ tent.” He says, beaming.
“Oh! What is your chieftain like?”
His smile falters for a moment. “I apologize, I was not clear - chieftains, plural. There are three of them.”
“Ooooh.”
“We find that trusting any one person to preside over us all is a terrible idea. Abuse of power, you know - it’s a nasty situation to find yourselves in.”
I groan sympathetically. “Yeah… That’s a long-standing issue where I’m from…”

Following La’Borra along a cobbled path, we eventually come to a long building with a deeper entrance than the kitchen. He motions for me to follow as he ducks inside.
“This charming place is where we make all our clothes.”
Looking around, I see five old orcs working with leather and spun cloth. At the sound of La’Borra’s voice, they look up, some of them exclaiming greetings, and I sheepishly wave in response.
One of the orcs immediately gets up and begins stretching a long, thin piece of leather around my body.
“Wh-what are they doing?!”
“Relax, Lar’Ra, they just want to know your measurements. As you’re new here, they’ll need to make clothes for you, Godsend or not!”
After a few moments they grab a notepad and begin writing down information furiously, chatting with the other clothes makers present. Free to inspect the room again, I see an old treadle sewing machine in the back, and wonder if it’s hand-made by them. It’s a far cry from the electric powered ones we had back home. Hang on… I can remember electricity? That’s neat! I guess it’s not that different from lightning, after all.

On our way out, I see something I really should have noticed sooner - the gigantic axe sticking out of the ground, surrounded by a wood-and-leather fence.
“...Ahh, at last you see it. The God Axe.” La’Borra says reverently, gesturing for me to follow as he walks towards it.
Near the base of the truly megalithic weapon, my eyes are drawn to a spot of charred, blackened ground, and La’Borra places a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.
“That, Lar’Ra, is where we found you. If we had not had such experiences in the past, we would have thought you dead!”
“Well… That explains why I woke up naked earlier…” My eyes trail upwards, taking in the sight of the God Axe in full. No doubt there’d be talk the world over of this thing if I was back on… back on… back home, but these people treat it as something normal. At this point there can be no doubt - I really am in another world…

Shaking my head, I tear my gaze away and look back to La’Borra. “Thank you for showing me this. Should we keep going?”

Continuing on, I find myself being taken to a few small rows of crops. There aren’t many, and from the looks of things they mainly grow root crops and seasonings.
“We don’t have much in the way of local crops, as we get most of our sustenance from gathering the excess of the land.” La’Borra says wisely.
I nod, and look off into the distance. The land is very familiar to me - it’s a dry, clay-rich desert with low hills and plenty of plants scattered about. There’s yucca, blue spruce pine, elderberry trees, prickly pear cacti, and even sagebrush! I’ve had to deal with all of these when living with my parents first in… well, it wasn’t a great place, I know that, and when we moved it was a little bit better, but some of the people around me still weren’t great. I can remember living in deserts, but not where those deserts were… why is that? Well, now I get to live in… yet another desert. Woo.

At least I can survive here easily if I ever need to run away for some reason…

My thoughts are interrupted by a large group of orcs coming in from the opposite end of the field. Big and buff, lean and toned, short and skinny, old and young; they really are a diverse group, and all of them are holding bags of different kinds… Not to mention, they all seem exhausted, yet somehow… proud?

La’Borra welcomes them with open arms. “Aaah, me zumar, ba i’til fobuhar?” While he chatters away happily, I just stand there awkwardly, trying not to draw attention to myself.
Then, without warning, La’Borra suddenly motions to me. “Har wur Mosh’Gwyr, Lar’Ra!”
I don’t have to speak their language to gather what was said this time. As I give an awkward smile and an embarrassed wave, I have to wonder why I’m being shown off like this. Please, not again!
As one, they shout “Harroka, Lar’Ra!” before tromping off towards the community kitchen. La’Borra turns to me and explains their role in the village - how they go on long trips to gather wild crops & hunt for food, returning with large hauls that will keep everyone fed for as long as they can manage.
“Then… What did they gather today?” I ask curiously.
“I haven’t the slightest!” La’Borra says coyly. “Though I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. Perhaps the next few days or so?”

As we approach our next mark, I notice my guide slowing down. At first I wonder if he’s simply growing weary, and wonder if I should offer a chance for both of us to rest. However, before I can work up the courage to ask, he stops a good ten feet away and points.
“This is our cold storage. It’s always chilly in there, and while minds smarter than mine may understand it, I certainly don’t.” He chuckles, and begins trudging away. “I’d show you inside, but my old bones don’t handle the cold very well. Come along.”
Looking back over my shoulder wistfully at the bricked-sided doorway, masterfully worked into the elevation, I wonder if I’ll get a chance to look inside later. For now, I follow in La’Borra’s quickening footsteps.

After a bit more walking, we arrive at a slightly larger yurt.
“This is where my granddaughter Na’Tia lives.” He says as he walks inside without so much as announcing himself. Then, loud enough to wake the dead, he calls out, “Aiy, grandchild, are you home? Or have you wandered out of the village today?”
From a rich leather armchair comes a sigh. “Gramps, you know I can’t leave…” 
I know I should be taken aback at this display of family informality, but I’m far too busy taking in the scenery. There’s a single small bed, much unlike the Orcish ones I’ve seen so far; a few wall scrolls with artistic depictions of battle, and one of an Orcish warrior receiving a flower from a human girl; the fancy leather armchair had its back to the central pole holding up the yurt; and right next to it is a wooden end table loaded down with…

Books. Honest, hardcover books, just like the ones I used to read! Now that I’m hungering for what else I can see here, I rake my eyes along the room. The walls are lined with more scrolls, but more importantly, more shelves of books! All sizes and colors, and even a few irregular shapes!

Without warning, another orc bursts into the room. “Aiy, Na’Tia! Ach boor mu ba me dugga?!”
I seem to be the only one disturbed by her explosive volume, as the girl in the chair just sighs, putting down her book as she gets up.
“Sure, Na’Tali, why not? Nothing else to do here, so I may as well see what you brought from the mines today!” she says sarcastically.
“That’s your granddaughter?” I ask La’Borra. Now that I’ve gotten a look at her, she’s… Kind of scrawny. Spry, at best. Not at all what I was expecting.
“That’s her, yup! She’s the only grandchild I have. Since she was born with a defect that stunts her growth, she can’t do as much as the others. Instead, she simply stays indoors, reading...” La’Borra goes from proud to disappointed at an astounding speed.
“So… Her parents are…?”
“I’m afraid so, yes. That is… a sore subject…”
“Oh, I… Sorry. I won’t bring them up again.”
As I exit, I see Na’Tali taking a large chunk of gold out of her rucksack, holding it up proudly. It has to be the size of my head!
“Me dugga la auro i’til!” Na’Tali exclaims in Orcish, and I find myself wishing I knew how to speak the language.
“Gee, that sure is a big piece of gold.” Na’Tia says, clearly not impressed.
“Biggest one yet!” Na’Tali booms. “And who this? New face!” She motions at me excitedly, and I groan inwardly. Not again…
“Uhm, yes! I am Lar’Ra, a Godsend, and-”
“MOSH’GWYR!? Mother had words about this! ‘Great great grandmother land here not knowing how speak, so if meet Godsend, speak with them in human tongue.’ This true, yes?”
“Uhm, yeah. I’ve been thinking that I need to learn the local language, though… And soon…”
“Thank goodness for auntie Hara’Tina telling you that, Na’Tali. Otherwise you’d never learn their language, and we’d be translating for the rest of our lives.” Na’Tia chimes in sarcastically.
Na’Tali just ignores the jab. “So, how long me in mines?”
“About three days.” Na’Tia sighs.
“Just three? That not long at all!” The older orc laughs. “Me dirty and much stink. Go clean up now.” And with that, Na’Tali walks off, her muscles shining in the sun.

Na’Tia just turns back to La’Borra, apparently unbothered by her cousin’s display.
“So, gramps, why did you introduce me to the Godsend?”
La’Borra strokes his sparse beard. “Well, until she learns the language, I would like for you to act as her personal translator.”
“What!?” Na’Tia squeaks.
“Also, it would be convenient if she could stay with you.”
“WHAT?!” she squeaks again, louder this time.
“Please, grand-daughter! It’s only until a home is ready for her!”
“Well it better be soon...” She fumes.
“I don’t want to impose…” I say, trying to defuse the situation.
“Nonsense, it’s the least she can do to help you out.” La’Borra responds, and Na’Tia scoffs. “Listen, the both of you. There is no available space, anywhere, in any of the yurts! It has to be this way, so please understand.” The elder orc pleads. 
“Well, why can’t she sleep in your yurt?” Na’Tia asks indignantly. “You have plenty of room!”
“You know I snore.” I honestly think he might be… Embarrassed? “I couldn’t put our honored guest, sent by the Gods, through such a racket.”
“I… Understand, La’Borra. But really, I’ve slept through worse…" I say quietly.
“See? She doesn’t even mind!” Na’Tia exclaims, trying to get out of this situation. 
“Well, I prefer my privacy.” Her grandfather says with a hint of weary finality.
“AND I DON’T?!”
“I’m glad that you admit such.” he says petulantly. “Now, I need to go talk to the chieftains. See you both at dinner! Bye~!” With that he beats a hasty retreat. I honestly didn’t know he could move that fast!
Na’Tia lets out a long, drawn out sigh. “I don’t believe this…”
“So… What were you reading?” I ask Na’Tia, eager to change the subject.
“A book on wilderness survival. It’s utter garbage.” She rolls her eyes.
“Wait… Why read it if it’s so terrible?”
“So that I know what not to do in those situations. Besides, I plan on writing my own book someday.”
“Oooh, what kind?”
“Trashy romance novel. Humans really seem to love those.”
“Tell me more…”

While hesitant at first, Na’Tia quickly opens up to the idea of having someone to talk to about her interests; I get the feeling not many people here have given her favorite topics the time of day, and talking to her about something she truly cares about is an entirely different conversation than listening to her sarcastic quips.

Our conversation, however, is soon cut short as the smell of delicious food causes both of our stomachs to rumble. Making eye contact with the younger orc, we both get up silently and make our way outside. We have to find the source of whatever could possibly smell that wonderful!